Page 4 of Small Town, Big Storm

The priest moves to the lectern and begins talking about my father like he wasn’t the asshole everyone in this town knew he was.

But this is Cedar Hollow.

The town might be located in the foothills of the nearby mountain range, might be a destination for tourists with its quaint streets and riverfront location, its local businesses supported year-round by snow in the winter, apples in the fall, tulips in the spring, and rafting in the summer…

It might be a great place to grow up?—

Except when one’s father was Norm Harrison.

Norm was a widower, a dad (barely), and an alcoholic abuser (the only thing in his life he was any good at).

And none of that fucking matters.

Because he’s dead.

We all know the truth.

There’s no hiding here.Not when everyone knows everyone, not when rumors spread like wildfire and funerals and weddings and birthday parties are a whole town affair.

Case in point?Today’s full church.

“…and now I’d like to welcome anyone who would like to share a few words about Norm to come up and speak.”

The silence that follows…well, yup, Fate has a great fucking sense of humor.

Rain sighs from next to me, and I don’t bother to look at him.

There’s no way I’m going up to that mic and saying anything that’s remotely close to kind.

Something he clearly understands, having grown up with Norm Harrison as a father.

But my brother is the responsible one, the good one?—

So, it’s no surprise that he pushes to his feet and finds the one story that doesn’t make our dad look like the complete and total bastard he was.

“…and that’s when we decided a possum didn’t make a very good pet,” he says, eliciting soft laughter through the room…and leaving out the part where it wasn’twe—as in, Rain and I—who decided a possum wasn’t a good pet.

Nope.That was Norm.

And our father didn’t give one fuck that we’d raised Millie from the time she was a baby, that she relied on us, that she trusted us…

We had to set her free.

And when she came crying to the back porch, my dad took out his gun and?—

Rain drops back into the pew, his hands clenched into fists.

I find that I’m doing the same.

Suddenly, my tie is too tight—or maybe it’s my throat.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

“…and give you peace, this day and forever more.Amen.”

I burst up to my feet, push through the throng of people leaving, rounding the corner of the old building and not stopping until I’m alone, until I can breathe past the lump in the back of my throat.

Movement flashes in the corner of my eye.