He sat on the porch and played with the ties of his sneakers. Today, Tristan was five and his dad was late from work again. It wasn't his fault; he just had to work extra so they could move out his uncle's house.

"Tristan?" He looked up to his uncle, Lorenço, as he walked outside. "Why don't you come inside? It's getting dark and your auntie has your cake ready." He offered and frowned when his nephew shook his head.

"I want to wait for dad." He turned so he was facing forward again, watching the driveway for the familiar car. It crushed Lorenço that all he and his brothers and sisters had was their father, Jacinto. When in fact, he knew his brother was too selfish to even notice.

"He might come in after you're asleep…you can have your gift later." He tried to negotiate with the boy.

"No…he's gunna come. He promised." Tristan bit his bottom lip and Lorenço took a deep breath before sitting beside him on the creaky wooden porch.

"Tristan…your dad's not coming back." He scratched the back of his neck and Tristan quickly averted his gaze to his uncle's. "All his stuff…is gone. Your aunt and I have been trying to reach him since this morning." He admitted and pulled the small child on his lap as his tears welled up. In a quick, angry manner, Tristan wiped his eyes on his sleeves.

"Did…did he say anything?" Tristan stammered.

"No." Lorenço lied. The last thing he wanted to do was crush the only child who would remember his father, the only one who was old enough to. He wouldn't say that Jacinto left a note, more a scrap of paper that read 'Thanks' and nothing more.

"…why'd he leave us?" He whimpered, though it was easy to see he was holding in his tears.

"Because your father doesn't know a good thing when he has one."