"Now, that's the God's honest truth." Dad chuckled. "We had some times,
didn't we?"
"We did."
"Never did build that Glass Castle."
"No. But we had fun planning it."
"Those were some damn fine plans."
Mom stayed out of the conversation, sketching quietly.
"Dad," I said, "I'm sorry, I really should have asked you to my
graduation."
"To hell with that." He laughed. "Ceremonies never did mean diddly to
me." He took another long pull on his magnum. "I got a lot to regret
about my life," he said. "But I'm goddamn proud of you, Mountain Goat,
the way you turned out. Whenever I think of you, I figure I must have
done something right."
"'Course you did."
"Well, all right then."
We talked about the old days some and, finally, it was time to go. I
kissed them both, and at the door, I turned to look at Dad one more time.
"Hey," he said. He winked and pointed his finger at me. "Have I ever let
you down?"
He started chuckling because he knew there was only one way I could
ever answer that question. I just smiled. And then I closed the door.