Page 24 of Falling for Keeps

Why? Are you into her? She’s smart, which doesn’t seem like your type.

Okay, rude. But valid.

How much do I say? I don’t want Maven to think I’m unhinged, but I also value her insight. There’s nothing to offer advice on besides what she’s already said, though, is there? I give a different truth.

Carson

Penny likes her. I want to know if I can trust her.

Maven

What did Mom say?

Carson

Yeah, like I’d ask Mom. You know she’d start planning the wedding.

Maven

I think you’re safe for a few months. She won’t push you into anything so soon.

I hope she’s right, but I’m not as confident as she is. Our mom sacrificed so much for us, working as a single parent and providing for our needs our entire lives, making it so we never felt like we went without. My dad left when we were little, and we haven’t seen him since. Sharon Price is proof it can be done, that being a single parent doesn’t mean I’m failing my child completely.

But there’s also the residual feelings of abandonment that have lingered for years. Yeah, I had friends, and the Walkers were particularly kind when we moved to Autumn Ridge, taking us under their wings and giving us a strong male role model in their dad and friends through their boys. But that didn’t erase how it felt to have a father who wanted nothing to do with us.

I’m net positive though, and I can recognize that. My goal in moving home is to make sure Penny’s life is net positive, too.

I open the first paint can and get to work, blasting Noah Kahan from my phone—Vermont men for the win—and focusing on the most important lady in my life and her new pink room.

The room is half-finished when I pull a Coke from the fridge and head to the porch to watch the sunset. Penny’s working on upping her jump rope reps, doing a weird hop thing that looks complicated but she’s clearly enjoying.

Suddenly, she drops the jump rope and runs for the abandoned skates near the wooden steps. “Watch me spin, Dad!”

The air grows crisper as the sun continues to descend. Crickets chirp and dry leaves rustle across the driveway like a Vermont October soundtrack. I sip at my Coke, fighting a smile while Penny finishes strapping on her roller skates and stands on slightly wobbly legs like a new foal. She glides back and forth on the small strip of sidewalk between the door and the gravel drive before attempting a slow spin.

Pulling out my phone, I look up Ben’s number and hit dial.

“Are you watching?” Penny shouts.

“Yes. You look amazing. Well done, Nickel.”

She beams.

“Hey man,” Ben says. His familiar voice reminds me of home, which is probably also because I’m sitting on my front porch. If he hadn’t divorced—or nearly divorced—my sister, he’d still be my brother-in-law. I guess he technically still is for now, but that whole situation aside, he’s always been my best friend, and I know I can count on him.

Which is why he was the guy I called when I needed help moving in last week, and he’s the guy I’m calling now.

“I think I bit off more than I can chew with this new office,” I say.

“What do you need?”

See? My point stands. My life in Tennessee was full and rich. I liked working for Dr. Palmer well enough, but he was distant, and most of my friends were an extension of Jen’s friends, which meant I lost most of my golfing buddies in the divorce because their wives sided with her. I won’t lie. The last year has been challenging, and having a solid person to rely on does something emotionally to me that I will never admit to in a million years.

I need to get to the point of my call. “How do you feel about making cabinets for my exam rooms? I probably need something for the reception area too, but you’d have a better idea than I would.”

He’s quiet for a minute. “Of course.”

“I’m opening next week, whether we’re ready or not, so there’s no real timeline on this.”