4. Carson #2
I glance out the window again, but the sexy librarian is gone.
When I first met her in Burlington last weekend, she’d looked slightly familiar, but everyone does in a town of two thousand when you’ve spent most of your life there, so I’ve probably seen her around before.
I went to dental school in Tennessee and lived there until last week.
I’ve been gone from Vermont for more than ten years, except for the occasional visit, and I still recognized nearly everyone I saw in the market yesterday.
Some places never change. Some people never leave. And others go away to share a life with someone else who decides being single is more fun and important than their child and what are marriage vows, anyway?
I’m not bitter.
I inhale slowly, dust lodging in my lungs and forcing me into a coughing fit.
This dental practice will be worth something when I’m through with it.
Right now, though, it’s a money drain. I need to give it a total makeover, figure out a filing system for the few remaining patients who still come here, and brainstorm ways to drum up business.
After last night’s nightmare episode sharing my twin bed with a pointy elbow in my back, I’m more than tired just thinking about it.
Which reminds me—I need to work on making Penny’s room a place she wants to be in. I glance at the watch my ex-wife gave me when I passed my dental boards. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I pick up the keys to my Lexus. “You ready, Pen?”
“Yeah,” she says, pushing away from the bin of toys with a heavy sigh. “Can I have a phone?”
My feet stop. “What?”
“You heard me, Dad.” She pushes straggly blonde hair from her eyes, and her bright blue nails stand out against her pale skin. “Maybe Mom hasn’t sent me pictures of her new house because I don’t have a phone. She probably doesn’t want to send them to you.”
I can’t fault her logic, and yet… “No.”
“Dad! You’re being so unfair.”
“You don’t need a phone. Your mom can video call you anytime. She has email. I’m guessing she just hasn’t had the time to paint, and that’s why she hasn’t sent you any pictures yet.”
“That’s not the only reason I want one.”
“You are currently never without a parent or other responsible adult who would be happy to lend you their phone if you want to talk to your mom, Pen.”
She glowers.
“Come on. Let’s pick out your paint color. Then you can send pictures of your new room to your mom.”
“Can we at least get a hot chocolate first?”
“Didn’t you just get a maple bar with Nana?”
She says nothing.
“How about a late lunch at the grill?” I suggest.
“Can I order hot chocolate?”
“Sure.”
This seems to satisfy her enough to get out the door. Cold autumn air leeches through my layers, chilling my skin despite the full sun. I lock up behind us, then slide my keys into my pocket.
“Well, if it isn’t Carson Price,” a deep voice says behind me.
I test the door to make sure it’s locked and frame a smile on my face. I’ve always been a hit with the dads around town since I helped get us to state my senior year. My guess is it’ll either be Mr. Walker or the mayor.
Bingo. Our mayor, Mr. Monroe, stops on the sidewalk, genuine pleasure beaming from his face. Lines fan out from his eyes and his white teeth flash like a small-town Pedro Pascal. “I thought that was you.”
I reach to shake his hand. He has a firm grip, but he releases it quickly. “This is my daughter, Penny.”
“Nice to meet you.” Mr. Monroe reaches to shake her hand too. “I always liked your dad. You’re one lucky lady.”
Penny gives him a smile, but I can read behind that expression. She’s wholeheartedly disagreeing. I’d bet she’s considering a response along the lines of he’d be a good dad if he got me a phone. I’m glad she keeps that to herself.
“Vance left you a bit of a mess, didn’t he?”
I shrug. “Nothing I can’t straighten out.”
“When are you planning on opening again? Do you want to sort out any cutting of the ribbons or a ceremony?”
“I’m hoping for a soft launch next week, but I’m not sure if we’ll be ready for an official ceremony for a while. Thank you, Mr. Monroe. I’ll contact your office if it’s something that becomes feasible.”
“Don’t forget to reach out to the chamber of commerce. They’ll have excellent resources for you.”
Overwhelm creeps into my shoulders, tightening my stance. I glance up as the door to Keller’s Bakehouse opens across the street and Emma walks out, carrying a bakery box. She glances my way and I lift a hand in greeting, which makes her blush hard and almost miss her footing.
“We sure are glad to have you back, Carson,” the mayor says, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’re a great addition to this community.”
“No one’s happier than Nana about our move here. Right, Pen?”
She nods enthusiastically. “She’s so happy.”
“That’s wonderful.” Mayor Monroe doesn’t miss a beat. He looks into my eyes, nodding slowly. “I hope you’re happy about it, too.”
Am I? That’s not a question I’ve considered. Penny’s wellbeing, the new practice, making my childhood home our living space without infringing on my mom’s comfort…those are all at the forefront of my mind.
“Of course,” I finally say, searching the sidewalk across the road. I can’t find Emma anymore, which is a good thing. I need to stop thinking about her.
I don’t have time for women.
Not even her.