I remember how proud he was of them all when they played their opening show after signing with the label. He booked four plane tickets for us to all fly out to Toronto, but only three tickets got used. Dad wouldn’t go. Mom, Gramps, and I went—and we got backstage passes.
That wasthemoment my dream was born. Seeing my big brother sing songs he’d written to a crowd that filled the entire venue, I’d felt a rush and realized I wanted that too.
But then, we got home. Dad was in one of his dark moods, and he’d been drinking a lot while we were gone. He was in such a state he hadn’t even bothered hiding it from us. We came home to beer cans on every surface in the house. Cans littered on the end tables and coffee table in the living room, cans piled up on the counter in the kitchen. I remember Mom’s face falling the moment we stepped inside and she caught sight of the mess.
The tension we’d walked into was thick enough that it felt impenetrable.
There had been a fight that night between Mom and Dad—a massive one, almost as bad as the one they had the night Calum left. I’d cowered beneath my blankets, hearing the anger in Mom’s voice rain down upon him. She told him if he didn’t get help, it would be the end of it—of them.
The finality in her voice had terrified me. I thought they were headed for a divorce, and while things were tense after that…the drinking stopped, and Dad started going to meetings and seeing a psychologist. His dark mood receded, only rising to the surface when he heard Calum’s name.
Mom was happy with the progress—relieved the drinking had stopped—but she wanted Cal and Dad to mend their relationship so things could return to normal. She insisted Dad was only reacting so angrily because he was deeply wounded.
Mom wanted Cal to start coming home for the holidays, and that wouldn’t happen until the two of them moved past what happened. She knew they both needed time, but recently…she’d been growing more impatient with them both.
Unfortunately, Cal hadn’t returned—yet. I knewthiswould bring him back. Gramps dying. He wouldn’t miss laying our grandfather to rest, even if it meant he’d finally have to face the things he left behind.
My eyes welled up at the thought of Gramps’ death. It stung thatthisis what it took to drag Calum home. My brother would have another heavy thing to add to his list of regrets.
Calum thought he had all the time in the world. But he didn’t, and this had been a sharp reminder that my father and Calum didn’t have forever to repair their broken relationship and trust in each other.
I lay back on my bed, letting the memories of my last lunch date with Gramps envelop me.
We headedto our usual spot, the fish and chip place near the harbour, one of Gramps’s favourite places. It was a short walk from his house, and he usually preferred to walk it. I would accompany him on these walks. This time, his hips had been bothering him too much, so I’d driven us.
We sat at our usual table, with views of the docks where we could watch the activity of the harbour. Fishermen were loading and unloading lobster traps, and a small family of four was tossing breadcrumbs off the pier, feeding the fish.
Gramps watched for a moment, a gentle smile on his weathered lips before he turned to look at me.
“How’s school?” he asked, taking a sip of water while he waited for my reply.
“It’s good! My professor really loved my composition piece,” I replied with a proud smile.
“That’s great. I told you that you didn’t have to worry. And how’s Dare?” Gramps’s eyes held a twinkle, and I blushed. I’d mentioned Dare had started helping me with my album, but he suspected there was a lot more going on than that. I don’t know how Gramps knew, but he had that way about him.
“He’s good. Says they’ve been keeping Cal out of trouble on the road,” I replied, pausing to take a bite of my lobster. Gramps’s lips turned down at that. He worried constantly about Calum too, about his drinking and his partying. He felt Calum was trying to drown out the voice that told him to come back.
I happened to agree with Gramps on that matter—but Calum was as stubborn as our father, and he still hadn’t come back since their major fight the night he left.
He left his high school sweetheart that night too. Nobody saw that coming—everyone thought they’d be together forever. Harper just fit so perfectly with him, as if she were made for him, but he’d left her behind like a discarded sweater. I suppose he felt he had no choice in the matter, but only he knew the true reason. When asked, Calum would shut down and not offer an explanation.
Probably because he didn’t have one.
“That’s good. I worry less knowing Dare has a handle on things.” I nodded with agreement—I did too. Dare wasn’t the only one looking out for him—he had Evan too. Both those guys worked around the clock to keep my brother distracted from his demons. They forced him to bleed it out through music, and I believed it was the only thing keeping him from suffocating completely in his regrets.
Dare had admitted to me once that he felt like he owed Calum because of everything my brother had lost on their way to where they were. Harper, my dad. His confession had frustrated me and made my heart melt in equal measure. I was thankful he cared enough to look out for him, but it was frustrating. Cal had made his choice, both in leaving and staying gone. It wasn’t up to Dare to absolve.
“I’ve been trying to get him to agree to come home soon—maybe for Easter—but it seems like every time I start asking, the label books another event, or there’s a tour or another album he has to be in the studio to record.”
“The same thing happens when I tell him to get home for a visit soon,” Gramps said with a solemn nod. He sighed wearily, massaging his temples. “Those boys do like to keep busy.”
“I wish he wouldn’t stay away,” I said, looking down at my plate. “He’d see it then—the regret Dad feels daily. It torments him the same way it torments Cal.”
Gramps nodded again, pursing his lips. “Your father is a complicated man, but he loves you kids. It’s always been important to him that he give you guys the best life he possibly could. He’s been telling himself that means college and careers, and I know he worried Calum wouldn’t find the success he sought.”
“But he has!” I interrupted. “Dad knows this, so how come it’s never mattered? How come it didn’t change how he felt about it?”
“It’s not he feels it doesn’t matter, or he doesn’t care. We can’t know it didn’t change how he feels, either,” Gramps corrected sternly, raising his bushy grey eyebrows at me.
