At the Dry Cleaners

At the Dry Cleaners

Bryn Mawr, PA

1998

I am at the dry cleaner’s store, leaning against the counter and talking to the clerk.  She is tagging my clothing and mumbling something.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear that”, I tell her.

“Oh, I was just talking to myself about that man out there.”

I turn around and look and it is my father, in the parking lot, getting out of his car and gathering his dirty laundry.

She continues, “That’s Mr. Kelly.  He comes here a lot and he’s really a nice man.  He always says hello to me.”

My father comes in and greets both of us. He sees me and comes over to give me a kiss, “hello sweet girl”, he says.

The clerk looks surprised and my father responses to her look, “This is my daughter.”

And then I wonder if I should have told her right away that he was my dad. But even more so, I wonder if I should have told my dad what she said about him.  I didn’t do that either and I still regret it. I should have told him that I was proud of him.

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