PART 3 – Dad Stepped Into Our Argument Before Mitch Could Answer, and I Realized the Conversation Was No Longer About the Scratches

Dad moved between us.

That changed the conversation.

Mitch hadn't answered my question.

He hadn't explained the key.

He hadn't offered any account of those ninety seconds.

And now Dad was telling us the argument needed to end.

I turned toward him.

For a moment, I wondered what he expected me to do.

Forget the damage?

Forget what I had seen?

Accept that Mitch had been standing there for no particular reason?

I didn't say any of that.

Dad's attention had moved to the flatbed.

He pointed toward it.

Then he told me to have the car taken down.

I looked in the direction he was pointing.

The flatbed was there.

So was the driver.

And the car was already secured.

This was no longer just a disagreement about a recording.

The vehicle Mitch had been driving for two years was being taken back.

That was the decision I had made.

I knew Mitch wasn't going to like it.

I also knew I didn't need his approval.

Two years was a long time to have the use of somebody else's car.

Long enough for an arrangement to begin feeling permanent.

But time didn't change who owned it.

And the argument over my SUV hadn't changed that either.

I looked at Dad again.

He wanted the car taken down.

I understood what he was asking.

What I couldn't understand was why the condition of the car on the flatbed had become more urgent than what Mitch had done to mine.

Maybe Dad simply wanted the confrontation to stop.

I couldn't know exactly what he was thinking.

I only knew what he had said.

And I knew what I was going to do.

I wasn't going to start another argument with him.

I wasn't going to turn back toward Mitch and demand an explanation for the fifth time.

That part was finished.

Mitch had already shown me how he intended to respond.

He would dispute the evidence.

Question what I could see.

And avoid answering the one question that mattered.

I had given him the opportunity to explain.

He hadn't taken it.

I was done trying to make him.

For once, I was going to let a decision stand without spending the rest of the conversation defending it.

I turned away from my brother.

Then I addressed the driver.

Click here to continue reading: PART 4: With Dad Demanding the Car Be Taken Off the Flatbed, I Asked the Driver One Question That Settled My Decision