The footage was clear: Leslie laid my suit on the grass and mowed over it, calm as ever. I sent it to Dad.An hour later, he came home, took Stuart’s suit off the hanger, and handed it to me.“Put it on, Son,” he said. “Call a cab. Go enjoy your night.
”Leslie shouted. Stuart complained. Dad didn’t say a word.The suit fit perfectly. Taylor grinned when she saw me. “You clean up well,” she said, fixing my tie. She didn’t ask. She just held my hand and danced. When I got home, the house was quiet.
Boxes lined the hall. Stuart’s stuff was gone. So was Leslie.Dad sat in the kitchen, a beer in hand and her things in a box. “She’s gone,” he said. “I knew something was wrong. I just didn’t want to face it.” He looked at me — really looked.
“No more stepmoms. No more pretending. Just me, being your dad.”He reached for my hand, and I let him. People think revenge is loud. But sometimes, it’s a video. A lawnmower. A suit handed to you in silence. And someone finally saying, “I’m sorry.” I think we’re going to be just fine.