Lissa Manley - Small-Town Homecoming

“Heard you were back in town,” his dad said by way of a greeting. He had his face pressed into a tight scowl. A perpetual scowl, if Curt remembered correctly, usually accompanied by harsh words and follow-up criticism.

Curt inclined his head to the left. “Yes, I got in yesterday.” He was determined not to let his dad throw him into a tailspin. Duking it out verbally with Dad wouldn’t accomplish anything, and Curt was trying to prove himself a changed man. And that meant approaching Dad with a cool, calm demeanor that wouldn’t ruffle his highly ruffable feathers.

Although it might throw his dad to discover Curt wasn’t going to be his verbal sparring partner anymore. They’d always had a contentious relationship; Curt had been the son his dad was never happy with. Growing up, disappointment had been Curt’s middle name.

His dad came closer, his jaw noticeably tight. “Where are you stayin’?”

“At the Sweetheart Inn.”

“He’s here getting caught up on details before Kim and I leave for Seattle tomorrow,” Seth interjected.

His father shook his head and looked at Seth. “I still think you’re crazy for bringing him on. As the guy who started this business, I know this place needs someone responsible.”

That fire-tipped arrow hit home with perfect accuracy, zinging a familiar lance of pain through Curt’s gut.

“He’s been clean for six months, Dad,” Seth said.

His dad snorted. “So he says.”

Curt saw red tinged with the shadows of his misspent past. “It’s true,” he forced the words out. “Rehab took.”

“How many other times have you relapsed?” Dad asked.

A rock lodged in Curt’s throat. “Three.”

Dad flung his hands up into the air. “See? It won’t last. It never does.”

“Maybe you ought to give him a chance,” Seth replied quietly. “He’s worked really hard to get here, and we’re his family. We need to support him in any way we can.”

Curt met Seth’s gaze and nodded his appreciation.

His dad scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Family didn’t mean anything to him when he ran around town, drunk and stupid, getting arrested, treating other people like dirt. He brought shame down on the whole Graham family.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I acted out to get your attention?” Curt said in a low, raspy voice. “You and Mom were so busy fighting, you didn’t pay any attention to us kids.” As soon as the words were out, he regretted saying them. Old habits pushing through again.

“Oh, so now you’re blaming me and your mom for your crummy choices?” his father said, his blue eyes blazing. “You never did want to take responsibility for your own behavior, Curt. Never.”

Curt felt the old resentment building, a tide of anger that manifested itself as a burning wall inside of him. The urge to lash out was strong—overwhelming, actually—and Curt opened his mouth to blast his dad with both barrels.

But then he realized that would be something the old Curt would do. He didn’t want to be that man anymore. Couldn’t be if he wanted to build a new life. So he stuffed the vitriol and remembered what Marv had taught him:

Own your behavior.

You cannot fix what you do not acknowledge.

The only thing you can control is your own reactions.

“You’re right, Dad,” he said, keeping tight control on his tone. “I do need to take responsibility for my behavior.”

His dad pulled in his stubbly chin, frowning, clearly flummoxed by Curt’s statement.

Curt went on, “I made bad choices, ones I regret. But I want to change that pattern, and that’s why I’m back in Moonlight Cove. I want to be a different man, one who can be counted on, one who my niece and nephew will look up to.”

“So we’re all just supposed to forgive and forget?” his dad asked, his eyes narrow. “Is that what you’re expecting?”

“That’s what I was hoping for,” Curt replied, hating the hesitation in his voice. He’d always felt unsure around his father and it looked as if that emotional reaction hadn’t changed. His heart sank. Another daunting challenge to face and deal with. There were so many pieces to be put together in the puzzle of his new life that he could barely keep track of them.

“You always did wish for the moon.” His dad shook his head. “All those dreams of being a musician, when you could have just been content to work at the store.”

“That was your dream, Dad, not mine,” Curt replied. This was an old bone between them—his dad had wanted Curt and his brothers to work in the store, expecting that one of them would someday take over. They’d had this argument in so many ways over the years Curt had lost count.

“Yeah, you’ve told me that before.” His dad ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking on end. “You didn’t want anything to do with the Sports Shack, and what did you do with your life instead? Wasted it on drugs.”

Seth stepped into the fray. “Hey, now—”

Curt held up a rigid hand. “No, I’ve got this.” While he appreciated Seth speaking up on his behalf, Curt had learned that he needed to fight his own battles—without drugs to numb him or give him false bravado.

Seth deferred and stepped back, allowing Curt a moment to rein in his temper. Getting angry would only fuel the fire. And prove to his father that he, Curt, was still a hothead. No matter what his dad threw out, Curt had to stay in control of his emotions, even though his gut was churning and he could feel his pulse beating in his head.

“You’re right, I did waste my life on drugs. You think I don’t know that?” He took a deep breath. “But now I’m looking for a fresh start, and I’ve taken the steps necessary to make that happen.”

“Fresh start?” His dad gave a derisive laugh. “There is no such thing as a fresh start in life, or I would have made one years ago.”

Yeah, Dad had never been able to rise above his hardscrabble childhood as an orphan. In fact, he seemed bent on perpetuating the negative cycle of his youth. Or maybe he just didn’t know how to break the circle.

“That’s your perspective, and you’re entitled to it,” Curt said. “But I have a new view on life, new goals, and I’ll do whatever necessary to achieve them. I have hope that people will see that I’ve changed.”

His dad snorted, then shook his head. “I’m afraid you’ll have to keep on hoping. I’m not going to let you off the hook, and nobody else in this town is, either. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

Curt’s shoulders went heavy. He did his best not to give in to the downward pull, and tried to stand tall. But after so much time spent crawling through life, remaining upright and strong was hard. Especially when he had his dad shoving him down. But no one had said returning to Moonlight Cove would be easy. “You’re entitled to your opinion. I only have control over my own actions, so that’s the way I’m rolling.”

“Good luck with that,” his dad said, giving a mock salute. “You’re gonna need it.” He turned his attention to Seth, dismissing Curt as if he were a fly on the wall. “Did you get that fishing gear I ordered?”

Seth gave Curt a half-apologetic, half-questioning look, as if to ask if Curt wanted him to intervene.

Curt shook his head ever so slightly. No. He appreciated his brother’s willingness to defend him, but nothing Seth could say to Dad would make any difference.

Seth frowned, but then turned his attention to his dad. “Yeah, I did. It’s in my office.” He gestured sharply to the far wall. “Follow me.”

Without a glance toward Curt, his father trailed Seth to the back, leaving Curt alone. With a heavy sigh he leaned his arms on the front counter and put his head in his hands. Dad’s attitude stung. A lot. He had zero faith in Curt, and had made it clear he wasn’t going to overlook what Curt had done in the past.