Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Well, shit.
On some level, Carson knew that whatever happened to his leg wasn’t good, but a groin tear? That sounded bad.
Felt bad, too. This morning when he woke up, it looked even worse than yesterday.
Between the fact that the black-and-blue region was now dangerously close to his manhood and the reamings he received on the phone from Agnes and Matty last night and his uncle this morning, Carson had reluctantly sought out the nearest urgent care center to put all of their minds at ease.
He wasn’t so sure things worked out as he planned.
“The good news,” the gray-haired doctor continued, “is that it should heal itself without surgery. I don’t think it’s a complete tear.”
Well, that was saying something, at least.
“Keep using the crutches for a few more days, keep icing it, and you should notice it feeling better soon. It’ll take a while to get back to one hundred percent, so be patient. But if you don’t start to notice improvement, you should follow up with your regular doctor. Might need an MRI.”
Fuck. The potential implication of the doctor’s words slammed into him like a ton of bricks. “I’m okay to drive though. Right?” Today was Thursday. The day he had starred on his phone calendar. The day he’d leave Cloverfield in his rearview mirror again.
“Eh.” The doctor’s face scrunched as if in deep thought.
“Technically it’s fine, as long as you have full range of motion and you’re not on any pain meds that might impair your driving.
But I wouldn’t recommend any long-distance driving yet.
Not until your mobility improves.” He directed a pointed look at the crutches.
Goddammit.
“Any other questions?”
Carson deflated with the doctor’s verbalization of his worst fears. “No.”
The doctor nodded. “Great. Make a left out of here to the front desk, and they’ll check you out.”
Carson’s brain cells were still trying to wrap themselves around the doctor’s words.
Not only about driving, but about the groin tear itself.
Despite the fact that as bad as he looked and felt, this was only a partial tear.
He cringed as he thought about what a full tear might entail.
By the time he thought maybe he should mention having hallucinations too, the doctor was long gone.
Probably for the best, though, if he was being honest with himself. He already had enough going on with his leg. He didn’t need head scans and psychiatric evaluations.
Or maybe he did. Since the whole air-clearing with Liz yesterday, he was feeling out of sorts.
Like what he thought was his reality was something else entirely.
Was it really possible that everything he felt about her over the past decade was based on a misunderstanding?
Had he wasted all that energy on something that hadn’t even happened?
He was hit with yet another wave of uncertainty and disbelief.
God, they were idiots. Both of them. They let their hurt and anger fester instead of facing things head on and having an actual discussion.
What the fuck was he supposed to do now? How in the hell was he supposed to unravel years’ worth of idiocy?
With a sigh, he eased himself off the exam table.
He didn’t know what to do about Liz yet, but there was someone else he needed to apologize to while he figured it out.
“Oh, dear! Carson! How are you holding up?” Agnes scrambled from behind her desk, her arms flapping like a chicken trying to take flight. “Did you got get checked out yet? Or do I need to sic Matty on you again? I will, you know.”
Carson suppressed a smile. As much as he wanted to argue that he was a grown man, for God’s sake, and could take care of himself, it was kind of nice to have someone fuss over him for a change. “Yes, Ma’am. Just got checked out at the urgent care over in Red Grove.”
“And?” Her eyebrow ticked up toward her hairline.
“And I’ll live.”
Agnes rolled her eyes. “Fine. Be that way. You know you’ll tell Matty and he’ll tell me.”
Ugh. Then the entire town would know about him and his messed-up groin. Although they probably already knew. It wasn’t everyday a raccoon got loose in a roller skating rink and caused bodily harm.
Although, in this town? Maybe it was.
Deciding to keep the gory details to himself for now, Carson got to the real purpose for his visit. “Is my uncle here?”
“Yep.” She glanced at her watch. “Knock before you go in, though. In case he’s taking a nap.”
Carson frowned. “Is that usual? Another nap?” A tiny seed of worry took root in Carson’s mind.
“Oh, you know how it is when you get older. Between you and me, I don’t think he’s been sleeping all that well of late. Too much worrying going on in that brain of his. Although hopefully that’ll change, now that you’re here.”
Carson’s worry dissolved, replaced by the now-familiar guilt. Guilt that he hadn’t kept in touch. Or checked in sooner. Or thought about anyone other than himself for the past decade while he built his life in D.C.
Fuck.
Steeling himself yet again, he gave Agnes what he hoped was a reassuring smile and crutched his way toward his uncle’s office.
Thankfully, his uncle’s door was open, and he was wide awake behind his desk.
Unfortunately, the worry lines creasing his uncle’s forehead did nothing to ease Carson’s conscience. They deepened when he glanced up and saw his nephew in the doorway.
Carson held up a hand before his uncle opened his mouth. “I’m fine. Just came from urgent care like you told me to do. It’s nothing major. A few days of rest and I’ll be as good as new.”
Hopefully.
“Does that mean you’ll be hanging around Cloverfield a few more days?”
Carson caught himself before God I hope not tumbled out of his mouth. Instead, he said, “We’ll see.”
“I’ve already cleared it with Clem for you have a room through the weekend. I’ve got it covered. Take your time.”
Carson nodded. “Thanks. I should still get back to D.C., though.” Although maybe asking for a late checkout today wouldn’t be the worst idea.
“Sure, sure.”
Closing the door behind him, Carson made his way to the chair across from his uncle and eased himself into it. He cringed at the old man noises that escaped as he tried to get comfortable.
“You sure you’re okay?” his uncle asked. “Those are the kinds of sounds my friends and I make when we get up from our seats.”
“Believe me, it could’ve been worse.” He gave Arnold a quick rundown on what the doctor said. His uncle winced and shifted, and if Carson was able to see through the desk, he had no doubt he would find Arnold cupping his own balls as if protecting them from Carson’s words.
Arnold let out a low whistle. “Probably not the welcome back you were hoping for.”
An unexpected bark of laughter escaped Carson’s mouth. “You can say that again.” Nothing about this trip was going according to plan. Not Dennis, not Liz. Definitely not the sudden need to try to mend fences.
Sucking in a deep breath, he blew it out slowly. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Dammit. Why did his uncle have to look so innocent? This whole thing would be easier if there was some level of sneakiness on his uncle’s part. Some sense that Arnold asked him here for a reason other than business. Maybe then he could’ve held onto some of his irritation.
“For leaving.”
“But you needed to.” Arnold’s shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “I get that.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have to stay gone.” Carson’s fingers scraped the edge of his uncle’s desk. “I should’ve checked in with you. Made sure you were doing okay.”
“Why? You were busy. You were building your career.” Arnold cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. “And the phone goes both ways, you know. I could’ve just as easily picked it up and checked on you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. I guess I thought it was for the best. Figured that if I didn’t hear from you it meant you were doing well.”
“I am.” Was. Wasn’t he? He was great at his job, and his social calendar was always full. He had a pretty nice life.
“Good, good. That’s what your dad always said, but you know how he is…”
“Yeah.” Moody. Angry. Bitter.
“Does he know you’re here?”
“If he does, I didn’t tell him. Why?”
Arnold shifted again, as if uncomfortable with the conversation. “Well, I don’t know if he ever told you, but he hates this town.”
Carson barked out another laugh. “Yeah. He’s said.” Loudly. On many occasions.
“I don’t think he was ever keen on you coming back.”
“Not surprising.” Carson turned his uncle’s words over again. “Did Dad have anything to do with you not contacting me?”
“No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. Your dad’s a complicated man.
He never did warm up to me. Not when he was dating your mother, and not after they got married.
Definitely not after the divorce.” Arnold shook his head.
“I should probably apologize ahead of whatever shit he gives you when he hears about you being here.”
“No need. I can take care of myself.” Carson swallowed around the sudden ball of emotion lodged in his throat. “Besides, I’m glad you called. It, uh, turned out to be a good thing.”
Arnold jutted his chin toward Carson’s crutches. “You sure about that?”
“Well, not the whole raccoon thing, no. But I do enjoy combing through your numbers. Liz and I may have had a discussion yesterday—”
“I knew it!” Arnold thumped a fist on his desk.
Carson narrowed his eyes at his uncle. “Knew what?”
“I knew the two of you weren’t over.”
“Uh, yeah, we are.”
Arnold waved Carson’s words away like a swarm of gnats on a hot, humid summer day. “No, you’re not. Fifty bucks says the two of you are back together before my next prostate exam.”
Carson considered asking his uncle when that was scheduled, then decided he didn’t want to know.
Because it didn’t matter. He and Liz weren’t anything.
Which was weird, since as of yesterday, he’d have said she was public enemy number one.
But now? Nothing. Except two people who used to date and shared memories of a small town he didn’t know any more.
He studied his uncle, and the niggling feeling that there was more to his uncle’s request that he return home surfaced again. There was a little too much glee in his expression for Carson’s liking.
Leaning forward as far as his leg allowed without triggering the ice pick, Carson stared at Arnold. “Look me in the eyes and tell me this whole thing with your business isn’t an elaborate ruse to get me and Liz back together.”
His uncle snorted but kept eye contact. “You tell me. You’ve seen the numbers.”
Hmmm. He was right. The business was a legitimate mess.
“Oh!” Arnold tapped his desk with his palm. “Guess who I ran into this morning at The Busted Gut?”
“Half a dozen people one meal away from a heart attack?” At least if the place was anything like he remembered.
“Possibly. But also Davis. New in town. Seems to be getting things done. Nice guy. Said the two of you met.”
Carson grunted in acknowledgement. Didn’t want to give his uncle any extra ammunition in case this was going to circle back around to the whole Liz angle.
“Also said he talked to you a little about a project he was trying to get going. Comparing the town now to what it used to be.”
Carson felt his shoulders relax a bit at his uncle’s train of thought. “Oh. Right. Yeah, he did.”
“Seems like it might be interesting.”
“Do you know why he’s doing it?”
“Not sure. Maybe one of the grants he’s working on? He’s the business revitalization manager. Working on ways to help the town.”
Huh. Well that might be interesting. Just one problem. “Like I told Davis, I knew the town then. I don’t know it now.”
“So get to know it. Maybe get a tour guide.” Arnold tapped his chin as if in deep thought. “If only we knew someone who knew the town then as well as now and has a good pulse on the goings on.”
A sinking pit opened in Carson’s stomach. “So help me if you say Liz…”
“What? She knows the town. Hell, she’s worked with practically a quarter of the businesses at one time or another, and she’s on the Downtown Improvement Committee.
Plus, it’s not like anything’s going to happen.
The two of you are over. Right?” Arnold leaned forward and gave Carson his best look of innocence.
Fuck. Carson played the scenarios out in his head.
He could say no to this whole tour idea.
But learning about the town might actually help him think of a way to save his uncle’s business.
He could always find another tour guide.
Matty would probably be ecstatic to do it.
But then his uncle might assume he didn’t want to be around Liz because he was still harboring feelings for her.
Which he definitely wasn’t.
Maybe he could play the injury angle. He gestured at his crutches. “Not really in tour-taking shape.”
Arnold pursed his lips and scrunched his face as if in deep thought.
Carson pinpointed the exact moment his uncle solved the issue. His eyes widened, and a smug smile spread across his face.
“Not a problem.”
Dammit. Carson did not need his uncle digging his heels in on this issue. If Carson said no, there was no telling what crazy schemes his uncle might cook up to get him and Liz to spend more time together. Or who else Arnold might try to persuade to help him with his cause.
Ugh. “Fine. If it’ll make you happy.”
“Nothing would please me more.” A benign smile stretched across Arnold’s face as he continued to hold eye contact with Carson.
Shit. Bastard was going to sit there and wait for him to call her. Or text. Definitely a text. “I don’t have her number.” He doubted that would get his uncle off his back for long, but it might buy him enough time to figure out a way to make the whole thing less weird.
“Ah!” Arnold held up a finger as his eyes lit with something that looked suspiciously like excitement. “But I do. Allow me.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Carson should’ve seen that coming from a mile away.