“Revenge,” I say simply.
My father turns to look at me, beer in hand.
“What did you just say?” he asks taking a sip while admiring the view from my rooftop garden. We can see all the way to the 02 arena from up here.
“I know what happened.” I take a breath and close my eyes. “I know what happened to Mike. What happened to him on that fishing trip. Hell, I know what happened on all those ‘fishing trips’.”
When I open my eyes he’s looking at me with fear and know it’s true. I know what I need do.
“Lucy, I,” he begins.
With a feral yell, I charge him. Momentum carries me on and I have a pleasing pain in my fist as I smack him.
He grabs at me and drags me back with him. I slap at him and he careens over the edge.
My arms windmill in the air as I try to balance.
I have one last delicious moment as I watch my dear old dad break on the pavement below me before I too succumb to the drag of the ground.
I try to remember a proverb I once heard about digging two graves but frankly it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.