“I’m leaving him,” I said on Father’s Day.
He threaded a worm onto the hook; cast out his line. He shook his head. “You young ones are hitched for fifteen
minutes before you begin wondering if you’ve made a mistake. Your mother and me were married for forty-seven
years. We had our share of ups and
downs.” His voice trailed off. He landed a bass, flapping against the muddy
shore as he extracted the hook from its lip.
“Give it time.” He held up the
fish, grinning. I snapped a
picture. “You fishing some more?”
I watched the bass circle around the bucket of muddy
water. “No,” I said. “I’m done.”
“I’m leaving him,” I said on my thirty-third birthday. Hushed waitresses walked by on silent shoes. Pretty music played quietly on the stereo.
“You’re just tired, with the baby and all.” He took the silver pitcher from the table and
added cream to his coffee mug; white swirling around dark; opposites circling…
dancing…finally meeting and blending and becoming something entirely different
altogether.
“We don’t seem to get along.
We’re better when we’re apart.”
“You’ll work it out.
Leave the baby with me for a week.
Take a vacation together. Open
your present.”
I tore the wrapper.
Inside the box were two tickets to Italy.
He grinned. “You’ve
always wanted to go.”
“I’m leaving him,” I said on Opening Day. Vendors streamed past with hot dogs and pink
cotton candy on a stick. This was the place
where dreams were made.
“Look at that hit,” he said, rising to his feet to watch the
home run fly off into the bleachers.
Against a backdrop of
cheering fans and fireworks, I rolled back the sleeve of my shirt to reveal the
burns.
“Dad?” I held out my
arm.
His face paled. “Oh,
Sweet Jesus, Lilly. Did he do that to
you?”
I nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” He rose, grabbed my hand and led me from the
stands. “You’re leaving him. Now.”
This was written for the Trifecta Writing Challenge. Write a 33-333 word response to the following quote: “What I tell you three times is true.” by Lewis Carroll. You do not have to use the actual quote in your response, but you may if you wish. Labels: fiction Trifecta Writing Challenge