He let out a booming laugh. “You honestly believe that, don’t you?” He glared at his boy. “Because she took my name, you think she disowned her family?”
Zane stared.
“If you think that’s how it works, son, you haven’t been payin’ attention for the past thirty-four years.” Before Zane could argue, Curtis continued. “Your mama took my name, but she’s still got five sisters and three brothers.”
“Two sisters,” Zane corrected.
“Five,” Curtis insisted.
“Adele, Celeste, and Katherine are dead, Pop.”
“So when I’m gone, you gonna use that little eraser of yours and get rid of me too?”
“Of course not,” he snapped.
Curtis raised his eyebrows, waiting for his boy to see how unreasonable he was being. He knew Zane was smarter than that. The problem was he was holding a grudge for a reason, and Curtis suspected it had nothing to do with this ridiculous notion that they were somehow the Hatfields and McCoys. There might’ve been some animosity between the two families at one point, but that sat squarely on his old man’s shoulders. Frank Walker, Sr, hadn’t liked anyone and never cared who knew it. Toss Lorrie’s father, Phillip Jameson, into the pot, and the two mix like oil and water.
But the feud the Walkers had with this town ended when his old man died. Curtis had spent the better part of his adult life trying to make things right.
“What’s really goin’ on here, Zane?”
Zane sighed, once again staring out into the distance.
Curtis didn’t urge him to answer. He knew he would eventually. Until then, he sipped his coffee and listened to the birds chirping.
“He left, Pop. And he hurt a lotta people when he did.”
“Like who?”
“Aunt Deborah, Uncle Owen. Donovan, Reilly, CJ, Chelsea.” He paused. “Mom.”
“They missed him. Rightfully so. But he made a life for himself.”
“Then why’s he back?”
“It was time.”
“Time for what? To swoop in because there’s an opportunity to be had?” Zane huffed again. “How long until he leaves again? Makes Mom and Aunt Deborah cry all over again.”
“Why would they cry?”
“They cried the last time.”
Curtis chuckled. “Your mama cried last week because some ol’ boy died on that TV show she likes. She does that.”
“That’s different.”
“Maybe.” Curtis shifted so he could look at Zane. “Stone didn’t come back because there was an opportunity. He came back because this is where he belongs.”
“And because he’s gettin’ a handout.”
“You think that’s what this is? A handout?”
“Yeah, Pop. I do. He’s not gonna work for it.”
“Why not?”
“He’s not reliable.”
