I almost didn’t answer it assuming it was the same tough guy from before, but then looked at the caller ID and saw it was my son, Michael. At first I didn’t believe it, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. “Michael?” I said, my voice cracking as I answered the phone. “Yeah, it’s me. You called yesterday.” There was a pause, then, “I guess you’re out of prison.” I laughed at that. I couldn’t help it. “Come on, you must’ve seen something about it on the news.” “I don’t watch much TV or read the papers these days. What do you want?” “What do I want? Michael, I’m your father. Chrissakes, I haven’t seen or heard from you in over fourteen years.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” There was another long pause before he added, “After what you did you’re expecting some sort of father–son relationship?
