With John’s promise, my daughter stayed up excited, planning the video shoot in her notebook.
"Mom, how about I wear a white dress tomorrow?"
"Mom, Dad’s busy. I’ll arrange fewer lines for him..."
Finally, exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, my daughter and I woke up early.
She was in high spirits, skipping along, proudly telling anyone we met, "Today, I’m going to the museum with Mom and Dad to film a video."
But when we stood at the museum entrance for three hours, waiting, the hope turned to unease and, eventually, to disappointment.
I called John countless times, but he didn’t answer.
My daughter’s health was still fragile, her face pale.
"Mom, can we go find Dad? He promised he’d come."
I couldn’t bear to refuse her, so I took her by taxi to John’s company.
"Mr. Foster isn’t here today, but he asked me to get three tickets for the amusement park today..."
I couldn’t express what I felt inside as I lowered my eyes, seeing my daughter tightly pursing her lips, eyes full of grievance and disappointment.
We reluctantly went to the amusement park, where we happened to see John riding the carousel with the little boy.