Islide myphone into my back pocket, remove my hat, and run a hand through my hair. For a minute, I’d thought something was wrong with the baby, with Charlie. My heart’s still racing like I’d just run ten miles.
Even now, knowing it’s just a checkup, I hate the thought of her driving these roads alone. She’d tell me I’m ridiculous. She’s been driving them for most of her life.
But she’s thirty-five weeks pregnant. A woman alone. On the road. Even a flat tire would be a catastrophe.
I’m still tempted to go in. Try to catch her.
“Forrester.” I’ve been playing golf the last few days with Jeff Carter, one of the surgeons I met on the raft trip. What he lacks in ability, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm. We’re on the green of the sixteenth hole, and he’s been putting around the green for five minutes. “I can’t believe you parred this one.”
I toss my ball in the air and grin. “Skills, Carter. Skills.”
Carter grunts as he records his score.
“You’re a single guy, right?” The question just sort of slips out. Even though we’ve spent quite a bit of time together, both on the river and the course, we’ve never talked about anything personal. But I’m out of my depth with Charlie. I have no idea what I’m doing with her.
“Divorced.” Carter stuffs the scorecard in his back pocket and then glances up. “Twice. Why? Woman trouble?” Carter’s a decent guy. Makes most of his money from the surgical implants he’s designed. But he seems grounded. Something I could never claim.
“Jesus Christ, Carter. Twice?”
Carter hefts his golf bag over one shoulder, and we head to the next tee. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”
I shake my head. God. Two fucking wives. I can’t even fathom it. Except I’ve started having these fantasies.
About Charlie.
About coming home to her every night. About having kids with her.
Before I went on the road, I was in a somewhat serious relationship. Serious for me. Ashley lived in L.A. and I’d just signed to go on our first world tour. We’d been booked to open for Blake fucking Shelton. God, what an opportunity. Ashley and I decided to try the long-distance thing.
It lasted all of one week. I was twenty-two, and women were throwing themselves at me. Not just one. Hundreds. I’m not exaggerating. This is the excuse I’ve always made for myself. Truth is I’m an ass who can’t keep my dick in my pants. I didn’t even bother breaking up with her. She found some pictures posted online and broke up with me via text.
“Yeah. Whenever things get quiet I have this bad habit of proposing. You don’t want to marry me, do you? Forrester?” Carter laughs at his own joke but then gets serious. “This about the little pregnant gal you’re seeing?”
I groan. We’ve tried to keep our “thing” under wraps. Apparently, we haven’t done a good job of it.
I’ve only known Carter a week. Not sure how much to divulge, but I’m floundering around in the dark. “You have any kids?”
He smiles “Two. Jackson is nine. He looks just like me. And a pistol. Oh, man. He’s gonna be tough to keep out of trouble when he gets older.” And then he frowns. “His mom lives in Chicago.” And Carter lives in Denver as I recall. “I get him every other Christmas and six weeks in the summer. I try to see him when I can, but…” He shakes his head. “It’s tough. Gloria remarried a few years ago, and Jax calls her new husband ‘dad’ sometimes. Doesn’t mean to, I can tell. But it just slips.”
“You talk with your ex about it?” That would be rough. Hearing your own son call somebody else dad.
Carter shrugs. We drop our clubs and prepare to tee up. “The thing is,” Carter says, “it’s not about me. It’s about Jax. Marcus is good to him. Coaches his baseball team. Takes him camping.”
“You said two,” I remind him. I’m suddenly hungry for this kind of information.
He laughs. “Little Jenny. She’s two. Karen lives in Denver, so I get to see her all the time. In fact, they live just a few blocks away.” The man grew about two inches taller. He tee’s up and takes a few phantom swings. We’ve played this course five times already, so we both know exactly what to aim for. When he finally takes the shot, it’s his best one all day.
“Damn, Carter. That was beautiful.”
He stares down the green for a second. “She’s my good luck charm.”
I tee up and slice the ball to the left. This is probably my worst shot all week.
Back at mycabin, I shower, open a bottle of wine, and pick up my guitar. Melodies have been flowing all week. Not sure why. I don’t want to question it.
Charlie coming into my life has added an entirely new dimension. Color. Textures Dreams I’d given up on.
Life isn’t simple. It’s never easy. Carter’s life is messier than hell, but the look on his face while talking about his daughter made me think it was all worth it to him.
