The saloon doors to the dining room were still swinging from where he must’ve pushed through them moments ago. A second later, he came back through.
“What the hell is this?” He snatched a piece of paper off the counter and pushed it toward me.
It took me a second to recognize the header on theMaplewood Mattersblog. I was amused that he’d printed an article instead of showing me on his phone. Dad had never quite taken to digital technology. But then I began reading and any traces of amusement faded, leaving cold dread behind. I forced deep breaths through my nose to quell the nausea as my stomach heaved.
“You sold your cheese to Sparky’s? Seriously, Mickey? How could you do that?” Though anger laced his words, the devastation was evident on his face.
My first instinct was to apologize, smooth things over, keep the peace, put the diner first. But for the first time, I bit back the hurried words as anger surged through me. I was tired of bending and caving to what was expected of me as a Brewer—altering my life to try and fulfill whatever fucked-up sense of duty I’d inherited when Matty died.
“You said no when I approached you. What was I supposed to do? Give up?”
Dad flinched like he’d been slapped. I wanted to snatch the words back, but I also wanted to say more. A lifetime of unsaid words surged through me, fighting for release.
“You wouldn’t even give me a single lunch special on a slow day to test out my cheese. My cheese is damn good, Dad. You know it. It’s as good, if not better, than other stuff we buy. The only reason you wouldn’t consider it is because you’re resistant to change to your core.” My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.
I’d never spoken this plainly to my dad about anything contentious. The Brewers were experts at dancing around issues instead of addressing them. Dad stared at me in shock, no words coming. Deflated, I yanked off my coat and marched over to the coat rack.
“Mickey—”
“Don’t worry about it, Dad. Only a few people know I’m Mystic Rind. The secret’s safe, but I’m not going to stop selling to them,” I said defiantly.
“Ian and Beth are smarter than I am and know a good thing.”
There was something about his tone that made me freeze. I spun around. “Dad, are you friends with Ian?”
His eyes widened, but it wasn’t because the idea was so preposterous. He was surprised I guessed.
“You are.”
Dad lowered his head. “Let’s grab coffee and sit for a few. It’s time you know some things.”
Robotically, I followed him and watched as he poured two cups of steaming black coffee, like I was having an out-of-body experience. I didn’t know what was coming, but my gut said it was big. I hadn’t seen Dad like this since he’d told me he and Mom were splitting up. That had been one of those conversations that had defined my life before and my life after. Was this going to be the same?
We faced each other at one of the two-seater booths. Dad stared out the window into the still-dark morning. Normally, he’d be running around like a chicken with its head cut off to prep for the early morning regulars, but I was starting to think we’d still be silently sitting in that booth when it was time to close tonight.
“Ian and I have been friendly for a long time.” Dad lifted the coffee, but didn’t take a drink. “The rivalry exists, but it’s notexactly what everyone thinks. Red and Sparky did have a big falling out, and the town took sides.”
At least the origin story was true. I wasn’t sure how I would take it if he told me the entire thing had been fabricated to hard launch their diner businesses.
“When did it change?”
“After Red and Sparky died, my and Ian’s dads buried the hatchet. Times were extra rough around here with the paper mill closing and the economic downturn. They decided to support each other behind the scenes, but also agreed they couldn’t come clean about being friendly. By then, the feud had really taken hold in the town, Team Red’s and Team Sparky’s had a foothold, and they couldn’t risk losing any business.”
My anger began to deflate. I knew how tough times had been in the area over the years, and I couldn’t blame them for doing what was necessary to keep their businesses open and food on the table for not only their families, but their employees too.
“When did you learn the truth?”
Dad set the mug down without having drunk from it. “Ian and I took over Red’s and Sparky’s at roughly the same time, which I now realize was their plan. Dad told me and Ian’s dad told him. Once we both knew, they brought the four of us together to make sure Ian and I knew everything so we could play into the rivalry.”
A fresh burst of anger boiled beneath the surface. I felt like such a fool. All the times Dad and Ian had snarked at each other when working community events or when Dad would heartily agree with a customer who claimed Red’s was infinitely better than Sparky’s—it had all been for show? How had I not figured it out in all these years? Dad wasn’t as bad at keeping secrets as I thought.
“Why haven’t you told me?”
“I planned to when you were taking over. I would’ve told you, Mickey, I swear, but I didn’t want to unnecessarily burden you with this.”
I ground my teeth. “Don’t you realize the rivalry is a burden of its own?” I nearly blurted out how it was hurting my chances for a real relationship with Amos, but that wasn’t only my secret to share. Amos and I needed to have a serious talk about how we wanted to handle that, if we got to that point.
“I’ve been pulled apart from Amos and Sage my entire life. I’ve been expected to view them as the enemy until one day I would be expected to flip a switch, when, instead, we could’ve been friends and a support for each other for the past three decades.” Emotion leached into my words, and if Dad tried hard enough, he could probably read between the lines. I needed him to understand how Grandpa’s and Dad’s decisions to continue the faux-feud had long-lasting effects.
