So here it was; June 21st. It was Joe's first Father's Day as an actual father. He was going up to his mother's for the day; Father's Day always made her gloomy.

When he arrived, he knocked at the door, and Amélie came to answer. "Bonjour, Joseph. Salut, Katie."

"Bonjour, Maman." Joe came inside, and let Amélie take Katrina.

"Gamma!" Katrina grinned as her grandmother hugged her.

"Viens, Joe," said Amélie, "on va cuire les biscuits." (Come on, Joe, let's bake cookies.) She handed Katrina back to her son, who put her in her carrier, and they began to make dough.


About twenty minutes later, once the cookies were in the oven, Amélie and Joe sat on the couch to play a flash card game with the baby. "Quelle carte est rouge?" (Which card is red?)

Katrina reached for the red card. "Bon travail," said Joe. (Good work.)

Amélie looked up at Joe. "Joseph, vraiment, je suis fière de toi pour être là pour ta fille. Ton…" She pursed her lips. "...ton père peut jamais." (Joseph, really, I'm proud of you for being there for your daughter. Your…your father could never.)

Joe sighed. He'd heard more than a few times in his youth that his father ran out when Amélie told him that he was on the way. He'd always felt bitter about it, and now that he himself was a father, he found it simply unfathomable that someone would just refuse to care for his own child. And he was the second child; why could he look after Gina, but not him, huh?!

He shook his head. Now was not the time to be resentful. He held Katrina close and cuddled her. She cooed. "Da'y."


When the cookies were ready, Amélie took them out of the oven. "Papa reçut son biscuit en premier," she said, handing one to Joe. (Dad gets his cookie first.)

"Ils sont parfaits, Maman," said Joe. (They're perfect, Mum.)

Amélie smiled. "Seulement le meilleur pour le meilleur père dans ma vie." (Only the best for the best father in my life.) She took a cookie of her own, and picked the softest one for Katrina to gnaw on.

"Attention, ma belle," said Joe, "ne s'etouffer pas." (Careful, darling, don't choke.)

Amélie, overwhelmed with emotion, hugged her son. "Merci." Joe hugged her back, with Katrina grinning in the middle of a cuddle sandwich.