Page 65 of Full Moon Frenzy

“Do you think I’m going to lecture you about your job? About not living up to your name? Do you think you’re the first Hemming to be made to feel that you weren’t doing your part to live up to expectations? You’re not even the only Hemming in this room who can say that. Like I told your chief — if you wanted to, you would. Expectations belong to the people who hold them, not you. Don’t let other people’s belongings become your problem.”

“I understand where Grayson learned his hypocrisy, if nothing else.”

His father glared. “Trapp, I know you were young when your grandfather left office. I’m sure you don’t remember what it was like when I didn’t run to replace him. I didn’t care then, and I care even less now. Your brother is in that office because it’s what he chose for himself, not a role I thrust upon him. Being a Hemming in this town is burden enough. They don’t get to expect more from us.”

Jack paused, peering down at the collection of mugs before him, sniffing two of them before lifting one to take a sip.

“Do you think I’m going to lecture you about the fight you started? Do you think I wouldn’t have done the same thing or worse if they were talking about your mother? Do you think I haven’t done worse in the past? Anyone who calls the woman I love a pack bitch is getting a piece of me, and if there’s one thing your grandfather ensured I could do, it’s take a punch. I really don’t think I’ve ever lectured you about your life choices the way you like to pretend I’ve done, Trapp.”

“Is that a joke? When Leelee and I split—”

“I was furious with you,” his father cut in, voice rising a fraction. “I still am. You got married without telling anyone. Without telling your mother. Without protecting your trust fund. Married to someone who, by your own admission, you didn’t have anything in common with after three years of school. Someone who could have taken you for half of everything you had to your name and probably would have if your brother hadn’t used intimidation tactics that could’ve gotten him disbarred. Let’s not pretend it was anything but your own stupidity I was upset with.”

Trapp said nothing. He knew better. For all of Lowell’s whinging that he didn’t get enough attention, Trapp knew that being the target of his father’s full attention was a far more perilous position to occupy.

“But since you clearly want to talk about it . . . what’s this all about? What has crawled up your ass in the past month? And if you think I’m not entitled to know, I’ll remind you that four of my six sons were sitting in jail twenty-four hours ago, and we both know the only reason Liam wasn’t with you is that he’s underage and wasn’t allowed into the party. I think I should understand where I went wrong, at the very least.”

Because I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be now. He had spent so many years being the easy-going one, everyone’s friend, that he didn’t quite know how to answer now.

“After Julia left . . .”

“Yes, I heard all about the aftermath of that.” His father shrugged. “You save people’s lives on the side of the road. I think you’re entitled to a little poor judgment now and then.”

His laughter caught in his throat, nearly choking him. “The new doctor from the clinic that reopened, she’s someone I knew from school. We were . . . I really loved her, then. But it ended badly. Someone at the coffee shop was talking with her about me and . . . my whole reputation, Dad, in just a matter of days. Gone.”

His jaw moved, but his voice trailed off. He didn’t know how to explain the hurt he felt from the entire community. They were both quiet after that, the occasional chime from the computer screen the only sound.

“Do you remember what I used to tell the three of you when you were young, Trapp?”

“You told us if granddad was ever mean to Mommy to push him down the basement steps and call you.”

Jack choked out a hard bark of dark laughter. “Mm, I did tell you that. It almost happened once, didn’t it?”

“Grayson called you,” Trapp confirmed, easily thinking back to that long-ago day. He had been crying, clutching his mother’s leg as his grandfather raged in the study, smashing bottles and picture frames. Grayson had taken the phone and was hiding behind the couch, calling their father. “Jackson already had the basement door open.”

“That’s not actually what I was talking about.”

Trapp breathed hard through his nose, his fingers flexing around the arm of his chair. He did remember. He’d only assumed that by being everyone’s favorite Hemming, he would somehow be exempt from the lesson.

“You told us they would always be watching. No matter what we did. They would look to us to lead. They would take their cues from us when it suited them and blame us when it didn’t.”

His father leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he waited for Trapp to finish the rest.

“And when we misstepped, they would be waiting with knives.”

Jack sat back, picking up his coffee mug and swirling it in a way that made Trapp think it contained something other than coffee.

“Everyone loves a hero, Trapp. And you are that. But just as much, they love to watch their heroes fall. Stop giving them every bit of yourself. I’m glad you’re finally telling people no for a change.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he bit out. “That’s easy for you to do. You’re Jack Hemming.”

“And you’re my son,” his father countered, leaning forward on his elbows, draining the mug that was almost certainly not coffee. “Act like it once in a while. Fuck this town and everyone in it. Except for your family, because they won’t abandon you when you are less-than-perfect. Perfect isn’t what we ever expect.”

He exhaled hard, wheezing, suddenly feeling as if the room were more oxygenated than it had been when he’d walked in. He didn’t like to admit that coming back to Cambric Creek without a white lab coat, stethoscope in his hand, had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, least of all to himself. He’d made the choice then that if he wasn’t returning as Doctor Hemming, he’d be the next best thing — everyone’s friend, a community hero, the Hemming everyone liked, immune to the oft-repeated lesson from his childhood.

He hated that his father had been right all along.

“You’re coming to lunch,” Jack went on, his attention already returning to his poker game. “That’s not optional. Your mother needs to see you all together every month. All of you being home is her Christmas, and you’ll not deprive her of that. Bring the girl.”