For a long time after I saw that the linoleum resembled the type Dad used to mop, I was unable to recall much.
He lost his fight with cancer just a few months before prom.
I moved in with my aunt the week following the funeral. The smell of the extra room was not at all like home; instead, it was cedar and fabric softener.
The abrupt arrival of prom season sucked the breath out of every conversation. At school, girls were exchanging screenshots of items that cost more than a month’s worth of Dad’s pay and comparing expensive gowns.
I was totally cut off from it all. Our moment at prom was intended to be me leaving the house as Dad took too many pictures.
I had no idea what it was without him.
