He says, “Relax, hon.” With a great push of the forearms, Stan pops to his feet and stands upright. His arms point straight out like airplane wings. Phoebe screams when he wobbles cliff side. With one foot in front of the other, he walks the length of the wall like a tightrope walker.

Phoebe says, “If you love me, you’ll cut it out.”

Stan says, “Love’s not like that, hon. Remember, everyone’s gotta live their own life.”

“But doesn’t loving someone mean protecting them and keeping them from making mistakes?” Her voice is getting higher.

Stan says, “But everyone’s gotta find their own way.”

I say, “Exactly, isn’t love about freedom? Loving someone unconditionally? Loving them despite their mistakes?”

Phoebe says, “You two are nuts! Finding your own way? And freedom?” Her voice is insistent now, sharp. I look over but Phoebe won’t look at us. Her shoulders are slumped and she keeps her eyes straight ahead looking out at the prison and city lights.

She says, “I don’t feel good Dad. Can we go home?”

“The fireworks will start up soon,” he says.

“Please.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I have a headache.”

“I’d hate to go when we just got here,” he says.

She says, “If Kristen weren’t feeling good we would have been in that car yesterday.”

And instantly, Stan jumps down. He holds her chin in his hand and says, “Come on, don’t do that. You’re my number one lady. You know I love you.” They walk off arm in arm to go look for aspirin. I can’t think of the last time my father and I even touched.

Stan’s wine bottle is wedged between my thighs. When I lift it, it’s heavier than I’d imagined. I put the spout to my nose. It smells bad. The first sip warms my throat. The taste is unclear. First it’s sour, and then it’s bitter, then it has a little sweet aftertaste. I try again and I take a bigger drink this time. It’s easier when you just gulp it. It makes my head hot. It makes my skull soften, my neck looser. I drink more.

In front of me, the view is both so grand and so small all at once. Sometimes I think it’s the smallness that scares me. That I will suffocate beneath the plastic. But then the bigness scares me too. Look at all those stars and seas, the lights that go on endlessly, red and white ribbons of traffic speeding by, everyone going somewhere and wanting something. Even the Dobermans look mean.