Page 29 of Carson

“Good night, Carson.”

He hesitates for a moment longer, and I think he’s going to kiss me again, but it doesn’t happen. I’m both relieved and saddened.

“I’ll wait until you’re locked up.”

He doesn’t move until I’m safely inside. I watch him walk up to the cabin. The big man following us watches with me from behind a tree. It’s his dad. I’m sure of it. He’s built exactly like his sons.

He’s worried about them. Somehow I know it.

I roll over and stare at the ceiling, thinking about the sunflower garden he and his wife built.

“What did you wish for with your Jinny Joe?” I ask my mother.

She had just finished explaining to me that the white puffy-headed dandelions were called Jinny Joes by children in Ireland.

She smiles, the dandelion stem still in her fingers.

“You can’t tell anyone your wish, or it won’t come true,” she says, brushing her long wind-blown hair out of her eyes. “It’s your turn.”

I close my eyes, blowing at the same time I make my wish.

We lie back on the blanket, staring up at the clouds. “How long will it take for our wishes to come true?”

“I don’t know, but probably when we least expect it.”

There’s a knock on the door of my van. I open it, expecting to see Carson, but it’s not him, or his brother. It’s their dad.

He holds his hands up. “I’m Carson’s dad,” he says.

“Really? You look nothing like him.”

A full minute passes before one side of his mouth tugs into a grin and he chuckles. It sounds just like Carson’s. “My wife and I would like to invite you to supper tomorrow at six,” he says, and then he begins to walk away. I guess it wasn’t a question.

“Wait!” I call, jumping out and hurrying after him. “That’s not really why you came to my door, is it?”

“No, but I got the answer I was looking for anyway.”

“Which was?”

“What Carson sees in you.”

My feet stop moving.

He waves his hand over his head. “See you tomorrow, hon.”

I take a step back. It’s coming true. All of it.

Oh my god.

Chapter Twelve

Cole

Goddammit. I grab my phone, looking at the time. Fuck, it’s five in the morning.

“Hey, man, I ran into a little snag over here in Carson City,” Carver says as soon as I answer.

“Shit, you’re making good time.”