[Here we are, the final post in a story we’ll call ‘Devine Justice’. Not the type who likes to start at the end and work their way backwards? Go all the way to the beginning with Part i and work your way forward. Enjoy!]
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We drove in more silence. What was there to say? Dad seemed to have orchestrated the imbroglio at the Keg—
“Imbroglio?” Lianne inquires.
“More bloodbath, I’d call it,” Avrum says.
A little over the top. But that’s our Avrum.
“Aren’t you tired of the same ol’ same ol’, boys?” dad asks eventually, in a tone difficult to tell if rhetorical or not. “We absolutely sure that we’ve got things so figured out?”
Quiet reigned at the outset of our ride home. The designated driver for the evening, I’d wanted to keep my wits about me for what I imagined might be something of an awkward dinner, my estimation being magnitudes off. Avrum sat in the passenger seat, sneaking constant glances over his shoulder at dad in the backseat, humming tunelessly and looking out the window at the passing scenery, serenely, I’d label it, with a slight, tight smile. Beverli Lee had in fact left her car in the lot. We’d checked to see if it was still there, dad musing about a possible ‘ambush’. It was impossible to know if he was joking. Continue reading →
“Why are you insisting on putting yourself in the middle of this, Beverli Lee?” I ask, attempting to dial back any trace of edge to the question.
“Yay, you didn’t,” Avrum tells me. “Not in the least.”
“You dragged me there!” she bellows, pumping the volume back up, re-attracting attention to our table from other patrons and quite possibly some restaurant manager type. Dad has returned to his meal as if he’s not part of what’s currently happening, like he’s sitting at another table, at another dining establishment perhaps. Continue reading →