Return to Gray Harbor (6 page)

Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But it was all starting to make sense. The house was a wreck, Dad probably wasn’t home much, leaving it all to Mom, while he tried to make his dreams come alive. But it almost cost his father his life and his family. Michael had to do something. He didn’t know what yet, but something needed to be done.

His mother continued. “… I came back early the next morning to try to talk to your father. I wanted to talk it through with him and apologize for yelling. Ever since those McAllisters renovated their store, he’s had this idea in his head that a little market like ours wasn’t enough. But unlike us, the McAllisters have a lot of money behind them. Dana McAllister's husband is an attorney, so they had a lot of their own money to put into the business. Anyway, your father saw what they’ve done and wanted to make Malone’s a destination, too. Problem is that now we have a second mortgage on the house, and fewer people shop here, well, because, well … you saw it in there … I just don’t know what to do.” She began to cry.

Michael hugged her and said, “Mom, I had no idea.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He knew Annie certainly couldn’t help any more than she already was doing. Raising three kids and having a husband constantly being deployed overseas wasn’t an easy life … and certainly not the most lucrative. Jonah was just a college student, and Judy was still just a high school student. Michael couldn’t do this either … but he certainly could bail them out — if they would let him. Paying the mortgage was one thing though, but Malone’s market was another thing. Malone’s Market was his Dad’s pride and joy and something he had refused to be a part of up until now.

“I didn’t want to bother you with it, Michael. I could sense something was going on with you, too. But this time I need you. I just can’t do this alone anymore. Annie and the kids are great but I can’t share this with them. But I also can’t shoulder this guilt or this knowledge alone anymore.”

She paused and looked straight into Michael’s eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to move back here, Michael. I see the look of worry in your eyes. But I am asking you to forgive your father and understand him. He knew he couldn’t do this alone forever and that’s why he wanted you, Annie, and Jesse to be a part of Malone’s Market.”

Michael looked at her, unsure of what to say. Not this again. It wasn’t his dream. Hell, he wasn’t sure what his dream was, anymore.

“Your father has too much pride to ask you for help, Michael … and too much pride to ask for your forgiveness, so if you can’t apologize for your part of it, just try not to upset him today when we go to the hospital. He’s nervous about seeing you and he probably wants to pretend that nothing is wrong … just go along with that for now. It’s all I ask.”

She looked so sad and defeated. Michael was stewing inside a little about what his mother had said, but couldn’t let it show. She clearly thought the way he handled things all these years had been wrong. Maybe she was right. But he still didn’t like this. He had always hated confrontation. He couldn’t do it when he was eighteen and preparing for college, and even now he hadn’t been able to confront work with the fact that he knew they were going to get rid of him, and he’d been avoiding this visit for the past thirteen years. He had to stop running away. No matter how scared he was to face his father tonight, he would do it. And then he could stop being scared of what would happen if he saw him again, because he would have made the choice to go and speak with his father and be the bigger man and end this. Even though the past few days had been tough, they’d also been nice. He felt like he was getting to know both Judy and Jonah in a new light. And he also felt like his mother was finally treating him like an adult, by telling him how she really felt. He sighed.

“Mom, I’m sorry for everything that’s happened. I know I didn’t handle things very well when I left Maine for New York. There were so many times when I wanted to come back, but I wouldn’t let myself. I couldn’t let Dad be right. But I don’t know what that’s accomplishing anymore. I don’t care about being right anymore, or who’s right and who’s wrong. It doesn’t matter anymore. I want to help anyway I can. Any way you’ll let me. And I will be on my best behavior tonight when we go see Dad.”

She looked at him skeptically but smiled stiffly and said, “Okay, then. Well, let’s get back to work, Mikey!” She rose and Michael followed.

Michael went back to the office and sat in his father's chair. It was the only imposing item in the office. It was a large, overstuffed leather chair on wheels, like ones you’d see in a law office. He sat in the chair and let the weight of his mother’s words sit with him. He had to stop letting things just happen. It was like he was fourteen again. He had taken a firm stand only once in his life, and it didn’t sit well with him. But now he was going to do the right thing. But first he had to see how bad things actually were at Malone’s Market and he had to see if he could salvage his relationship with his family. For the first time his career was going to take a backseat to this rest of his life — and he liked the way that felt.

Michael was infuriated. He had never encountered anyone more stubborn or ridiculous in his whole life. He had gone to the hospital earlier that evening with his Mother, his siblings, and even his nephews, to see his father. Needless to say, it didn’t go well. His father was in bad shape but even with half his body being immobile, and even dressed in a skimpy hospital gown, he still looked imposing. Michael played the exchange over in his head as he drove around aimlessly in Gray Harbor.

His father had been sitting up in his bed, his left hand clutching his right in his lap, with a bored look on his big face. His skin looked gray, and although he looked weak, you could see he was a strong man. You could also see a little bit of Jesse in his eyes and that strong Malone chin and jawline. Marty said to James, “Look who’s here, James. Mikey is in town to visit and he’s been a big help at the market and around the house this week.” Marty put on a smiling face as she addressed her husband.

“Hi, Dad,” Michael said tentatively.

His Dad chose not to respond to him. Instead, he turned to Marty and struggled to get the words out, “I wanta you ta ta tell your son he’s not welcome here. I’m tired.”

Marty’s face fell. “James ...” she said pleadingly.

“No, Mom, it’s okay. I should have known better.” Michael’s anger was building and his face began to get red.

“Dad, I understand that I’m not your favorite person in the world, but I care about this family and about you, and I’m here to see you. And I’m here to help if I can. I’m sorry it took so long for me to come here.”

There. He had said it.

His father appeared to be listening. Michael could see it in his eyes. Or, at least he thought he saw something in his eyes. He thought James was going to address him, but instead, James stammered and said with some difficulty, “Marty, it’s late. Why don’t you all justa leave.”

Michael shook his head and then stormed out of the room.

A few minutes later, Marty shepherded everyone else out of his room. Michael drove them all home in silence. They picked up some food from the Dairy Barn but Michael opted to spend the rest of the evening alone. He just didn’t want to talk about it all. After he dropped everyone off, he just started driving. He must have circled the block at least fifty times, and somehow he ended up at the Warren Inn. He had heard that they had a decent bar and decided that it might be just what he needed tonight. A drink and someplace where he could just forget everything that had just happened. He drove past the Inn’s sign, and past its Adirondack chairs, and then parked in the lot. Looked like it was a slow night so far … probably typical for a Monday, he supposed. New Yorkers made every night a drinking night, but that was not the case in Maine.

He got out of the car and checked his reflection in the window of the driver’s side. He looked presentable in his polo shirt from the morning and his jeans. He mussed with his hair a bit and decided to leave on his driving glasses. He usually wore contacts, or walked around a bit blurry, but he felt most comfortable in his designer tortoise shell glasses. When he was younger, he always felt like his glasses were really a mask behind which he could hide. Tonight, he felt like he wanted to hide away from the whole world. He breathed in and walked to the front of the Inn, looking for an entrance to the Tavern.

He walked to the reception area to ask about it. He looked around. The place looked great. It had a lovely fireplace and big comfortable blue upholstered French Country chairs with a worn mahogany wood. On his right was a small gift shop, which was really an alcove with Maine-centric trinkets. Just beyond the gift shop was the reception desk. Bob Adams from McAllister's really had done a great job with this place. Michael inquired about the bar and discovered there was an outdoor side entrance but that it was accessible from inside the Inn, as well. He walked down the corridor to the left as he was directed and came upon a quaint bar and restaurant area. It had chunky wood tables and chairs and a full bar with old fashioned ‘milking style’ wood bar stools and a large mirrored wall behind the bar. The rest of the walls were plank wood, giving it the feel of a ship. There were even little models of boats on the large stone hearth that was in the center of the room. There was one large flat screen television in the corner.

Michael made his way over to the bar. It was pretty quiet inside. There were a few people dining at the nearby tables and only one other gentleman sitting at the bar on the opposite end of where Michael decided to plant himself. He wasn’t feeling in the mood for chatting it up with a stranger tonight. He just wanted a drink, a burger, and some television. As he settled into his stool, he leaned back to look at the specials on the board. He didn’t even notice that a woman had walked over and was looking at him expectantly from behind the bar.

Beth felt like an idiot. She hated working behind the bar. People didn’t treat her like she owned the Inn then. Not that everyone had to know it but she worked really hard to get here and had really pulled herself up. She always got annoyed when she had to cover shifts for her employees and people treated her like the hired hand. And what was worse, she had to serve this guy. She was hoping he’d order something simple. Although she was a gourmet chef, she couldn’t mix a drink for her life. And oddly, something else made her a little uncomfortable around this man. He looked terribly familiar and he was good looking in that handsomely imperfect kind of way. His glasses also made him look bookish, not something that was common in Gray Harbor.

“What can I get for you, sir?”

Michael was startled by her presence and stumbled over his words. “Um yes, I’d just like a Sam Adams,” he said, before he even registered who he was speaking to. Then he really noticed her, all of a sudden. Wow, he thought. She was gorgeous. He had always had a thing for redheads ever since — no, it couldn’t be ... could it?

She went to the fridge and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God, a beer. That she could handle. She opened the beer with her back facing him and grabbed a menu as well.               “Here you go, sir, one Sam Adams. Can I interest you in something to eat?” She held out the menu.

As he accepted it, he thought to himself that she could interest him in a lot of things. Before he could let his mind wander or embarrass himself with a physical reaction to her, he said, “Sure, that would be great.”

He quickly glanced at the menu and asked her, ”What’s good here? I came here thinking I wanted a burger but it looks like you have so much more to offer here.”

Was he hitting on her? Seriously? Here we go. Why did men always hit on waitresses or bartenders? It’s not like they actually want to chat with them. I mean, he was good looking, extremely good looking. She was taking way too long to respond to him and was just staring. She caught herself and was glad she had plenty of answers to his question. After all, the menu was her creation.

“Well, with that beer I’d recommend either our burgers or you could try the American Kobe flat iron steak with spring pea shoots, hickory smoked bacon, and roasted yukon gold potatoes with a tarragon whole grain mustard sauce.”

She was sure he wouldn’t get that, no one ever ordered something like that to just eat at a bar alone, but he did ask.

“Wow, that sounds perfect.”

He looked down at the menu again and added, “ I’d also like to get the roasted Penobscot bay oysters … sounds great. I don’t think I have ever had them served with a spinach shallot crème fraîche. But it sounds amazing,” he said, as he pushed his glasses up his nose and beamed, handing her back the menu.

Beth noticed his movement and made the connection. She had seen him before. Her old lab partner always was doing that with his glasses whenever he smile dup at her.  Well if it was him he had certainly changed for the better since high school. Back then he had been scrawny and quiet, with terrible acne and huge glasses. He was certainly looking better. She had never admitted it to her friends, but despite all that, she had had a little bit of a crush on him in high school, even though he was a bit of a nerd and short. He was always pleasant and had seen her at her worst and never mentioned it to anyone. When her parents had died, she broke down and Michael had comforted her and covered for her in school. And then not sixth months later, her sister, she — well, no point in thinking about that now.

“You’re not Michael Malone, are you?” asked Beth.

Michael was taken aback; he was sure she wouldn’t remember him. “Um, yes, yes I am. Have we met before?”

He tried to play it cool. If this was Beth, she had changed quite a bit herself. She was stunning, even in her bartending getup. But it just couldn’t be. Looking at her now ... could it be?

“It’s me, Beth Adams. You know, from chemistry in high school.”

Beth Adams. It was her. He couldn’t hide his surprise, although he felt like an idiot because he knew this was a possibility. In high school Beth was still tall and thin … in fact, she had towered over Michael, who didn’t seem to hit his growth spurt until college. She had always been nice to him back then, although he always felt a little uncomfortable around her. And he was starting to feel little uncomfortable around her now. He had had a crush on her in high school, ever since they were lab partners freshman year. He always liked the look of her and he loved her hair … and she wore thick glasses that let him forget that she was popular and that … well, that he was so far from it. Nothing like Jesse.

Being in school as a freshman the same time Jesse was there had been hard for Michael. Jesse was probably the one who kept Michael from getting beat up, but when people found out he was Jesse’s brother, they thought he was going to be athletic, or funny or cool … yet he was none of those things. Sure, now he was certainly fit, but he got there from countless hours at the gym with a personal trainer. He had also started running but when it came to sports that involved a ball, a bat, a stick, or a team, Michael was completely out of his element, although he enjoyed being a spectator of sports.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Nice to see you Beth. It’s been a long time. You look great, by the way.” Michael stumbled a little on his words, what was happening? Usually Michael was so smooth. Well, not today, he was nervous, uncomfortable, and attracted to Beth. It was like he was in high school all over again. Even his palms were sweaty.

What was wrong with him? He needed to focus. He was in Maine to help his parents get everything in order and to see his father, not get fixated on some bartender, even if she was Beth.

She was still in awe of how much he changed. She guessed he was just over six feet tall, and he was just so manly now. And while she like some muscles, she didn’t want a gym-obsessed man. Michael was both tall and lean ... why was she even thinking about this? She had to focus, she had to manage the bar and come up with tomorrow's menu, she certainly had no time to think about a man who would surely be leaving town soon, let alone the man whose brother caused her sister’s death. Despite her instant attraction to seeing him, it also caused her pain. It reminded her of that night.

The night of the state championships, her sister Jen let her boyfriend Jesse talk her out of driving her car home. They had both had too much to drink, and despite Beth and Michael’s pleading, they left the party they were all at and left them behind. She guessed she should be thankful for that, but sometimes she wondered if she had been in the car if she could have done something to save them. Instead, she and Michael were drunk themselves, and had almost slept together. It didn’t matter. It was the past. She blinked back the tears she felt forming at the corners of her eyes.  Had he said something, she thought, oh, yes, he had; she supposed she should respond instead of standing there, awkward and speechless.

“Um, well, thanks. You look great, too.” She shouldn’t have said that, was her attraction that obvious? She needed to get away and fast.

“Why don’t I go check on your food.” She stammered and walked away quickly.

Wow, Michael thought. Beth Adams. She was gorgeous. She had become more shapely than when they were teenagers; he could see how deeply blue her eyes were now that she wore contact lenses, and that red hair! He needed to calm down. He quickly drank his beer in an effort to ease his nerves. His palms were still sweaty. How could he get so nervous about a bartender? He had slept with countless bartenders and waitresses in New York, it was always the same: aspiring actress or model. He wanted more than a woman who was a bartender. Not to sound like a jerk but he couldn’t get serious about someone who wasn’t living their dream, no matter what it was. He wanted something more, he wanted a woman who was passionate, who loved what she did, and who was as focused as he had been. Then again, he was only going to be here for another couple of weeks.

Oh, hell, Beth probably got hit on all the time by creepy guys who came into the bar. Bartender or not, he didn’t want to seem like a pig, especially with their history. Nothing had really happened other than a few frantic kisses, but  much more could have. He would forget the advances he wished he could make for now. He took another long swig of his beer as his oysters came out. Beth placed the plate in front of him and asked if he’d like another beer, to which he nodded amiably. When she came back with his beer, he had already had one of the oysters.

“Wow, these are great. If the rest of the food is like this, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me while I am here.”

He smiled and had another sip of his beer.