When Michael’s father misses his graduation to take his stepson, Tommy, to the zoo, Michael wants to teach him a lesson. After years of being sidelined, Michael finally retaliates. He plans a graduation dinner with the intention to expose his father, but then, things take a turn…
As I watched my classmates hug their families on graduation day, the absence of my father, Henry, cast a long shadow on what should have been one of the happiest days of my life.
A graduation cap and degree | Source: Pexels
Ever since my parents’ divorce when I was ten, Dad had built a new life with Sandra and her young son, Tommy.
It was good—I wanted my father to be happy. He deserved it. Because as much as he and Mom tried, they just weren’t compatible anymore. I needed them to be apart so that they could co-exist for me.
A divorce agreement | Source: Pexels
But then, when Dad and Sandra got together, he entered a new chapter—one that seemed to include everyone but me.
Initially, things weren’t so bad, but as my father grew closer to Tommy, he began to play a bigger role in his life. He consistently missed the milestones that marked my childhood journey—my science fair victories, my soccer finals, even several birthdays.
A father carrying his son | Source: Pexels
Each absence was attributed to something involving Tommy—a school play, a baseball game, or just a day out—leaving me to celebrate or commiserate without him.
I met with my father a week before the graduation—we were having lunch at a diner, something that he still tried to keep going, even when his life got busy.
A tray of burger and fries | Source: Pexels
“I’ll be at your graduation, Michael,” my father said. “I’ll wear a suit and tie and be there, in the front row with your mom. This is a big moment in your life and I love you. Of course, I’ll be there.”
“Are you sure, Dad?” I asked him, and although I had tried to be reserved, the truth was that I was excited to have him there. I slurped my milkshake.
A boy drinking a milkshake | Source: Pexels
“Yes, Mike,” he said. “I’ll be there!”
So, when he dropped me off after lunch, I dared to hope that this might signal a change in our relationship. I sat in my room hoping for the best.
A teenage boy sitting on a carpet | Source: Pexels
Of course, that wasn’t the case.
However, just hours before the ceremony, he called, his voice hesitant over the phone.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” he said. “But Tommy needs me today. He’s had a really difficult year at school, and the lions at the zoo are scheduled to do a performance today. So, he needs that. He needs something to bring him joy.”
I was not impressed by my father. I understood the need for him to be there for Tommy—to help lift his spirit. But I hated that it was at my expense. That for my father to be there for Tommy, it meant that he wouldn’t be here for me.
The sting of his absence was only made sharper during the graduation ceremony. My peers were surrounded by their families—fathers kissed their daughters on the forehead, and slapped their sons’ backs as they hugged them.
But this time, I resolved to channel my hurt into something constructive.
Over the weekend, I planned a dinner under the guise of celebrating my graduation, inviting Dad, Sandra, and Tommy.
“Mom, are you sure that having the dinner at home is okay?” I asked my mother as she did laundry the night before the dinner.
“Yes, honey,” she said. “I’ve already got everything that I need for cooking dinner—I went grocery shopping earlier today.”
At first, I was fine with having dinner at home—but now, knowing that I had planned something extra, I didn’t want my mother to get caught up in the crossfire.
My father was generally a reasonable man, but I didn’t know how he was going to react.
The evening was set, the table was beautifully adorned outside—my mother always went out of her way to make sure that everything was perfect when she hosted.
But beneath it all was my intention to finally make Dad see the cost of his choices.
As dinner progressed and Mom brought out her caprese salad and breadsticks to accompany everything else, I stood to make my speech.
“Each of us has milestones that define our lives,” I began, my voice steady but my hands trembling slightly. “These moments shape who we are, and who stands with us in these moments can define our relationships.”
I paused, glancing at my father, who seemed to sense a shift in the air. He clutched his glass of whiskey tightly.
I proceeded to recount the milestones of my life, each anecdote carefully crafted to draw a vivid picture of my loneliness.
“At the science fair, as I received the first-place award, I searched the crowd for my father. But where he should have stood, there was only an empty space.”
My mother smiled at me from her seat. She had no idea that I was about to do this—but she always encouraged me to speak my mind and release my feelings. More so since the divorce.
“I’ve always sought my father’s pride, his presence,” I continued, my voice breaking slightly. “But I’ve learned that seeking validation from someone who so often chooses absence is perhaps too much to ask for.”
My gaze locked with his, willing him to understand the depth of my words.
My father’s expression crumbled.
“I’ve missed more than moments, Michael,” he said. “I’ve missed a lifetime with my son.”
From her seat, Sandra looked uncomfortable and continued to hover over Tommy—who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“Listen, maybe the two of you just need to really spend some time together,” Sandra said. “I know that Tommy’s presence in your father’s life has taken away from your time. But it’s not Tommy’s fault! He’s younger than you anyway, Michael.”
“Michael’s not saying that it’s Tommy’s fault, honey,” my father said, helping himself to a breadstick.
“He’s saying that I should have just chosen to separate my time better. To play important roles for both of them.”
My mother nodded and went into the kitchen to bring out a cake for dessert.
“I’m so proud of you, Michael,” she said, kissing me on the head.
I wanted to embarrass my father. That had been my ultimate goal. But it turned out that my words had struck a nerve for him. It seemed that he was already feeling guilty about everything.
And my speech had just made it more concrete to him—making him realize that he wasn’t the only one feeling bad about the situation.
The next weekend, my father came to fetch me.
“Michael, pack your bags,” he said. “We’re going to spend some time in the woods.”
It turned out that he had planned a weekend away for just the two of us—we were going to sit under the night sky and get to know each other properly. He was going to teach me how to fish, and how to identify constellations.
“It’s going to be great,” he said. “We need this.”
As we drove to the cabin that he had booked, I finally felt a sense of relief. It seemed that my father was determined to try with me. Which was perfect—because I was leaving for college soon, and I didn’t want to leave without making things right with him.
Hopefully, he doesn’t disappoint me this time.