Her name was Hannah. I suppose she was about 5 or 6 years old. She looked hurt.
“But you promised, Daddy,” she said. Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. Her eyes were wet, as though she was about to cry.
“I don’t know anything about pumpkins anyway,” the man said, not even looking at her. “Your mom and your granddaddy can help you. I’ve got to leave. I’ll be back Monday.”
“But you promised.”
There was a long silence and then the little girl quietly started to sob. Her mother looked angry, but you could tell from the tired look on her face that she had been through things like this with her husband before. My bet — and it’s just a guess — is that she expected it.