is, about his father and if they talk, and if he has any siblings. I want to get to know the man who practically admitted little old me intimidates him enough to only open up after he’s been drinking. Maybe I should be offended, but for some reason I’m flattered.
My brilliant response to him? Oh. Okay.
When I reread my message, I cringe and click my screen off, so I don’t have to look at his reply. He didn’t send me flowers and he doesn’t want to go to the restaurant with me. Fine. The more I open my mouth with him, the greedier I become. He probably thinks I’m desperate—like sex equals a relationship. I need to back off and give him space. Give us space.
“Good morning,” Carter greets, rounding the corner with his keys in hand. His coat is still buttoned and spattered with the snow that’s been flurrying all morning.
I put my phone into my purse pocket and smile up from where I sit on the floor by his door. He walks over and offers me his hand, which I take to pull myself up. “Thanks. Morning. Still snowing out I take it?”
He nods, unlocking his door and pushing it open. With his free hand, he flicks on the lights and gestures for me to follow him in. “It’s lightened up some.”
I put my bag down in the spare chair beside where his desk is perched against the side wall. The first time I saw his office, I was mesmerized by the bookshelves lining the opposite wall covered in history textbooks, mythology novels, encyclopedias, pictures, and trinkets that seemed random. But I know Carter and he doesn’t display random objects. They all mean something to him, just like the pictures he selected do.
Smiling when I see a new one added at the end, I walk over to it as I unzip my own jacket and slide it off. “Jesse would hate you if he knew you had this on your shelf.”
It’s one of Jesse, Danny, Carter, and me. I still had braces, so I had to of been ten or eleven. Danny had an arm draped across my shoulder and Jesse’s face looked like he wanted to murder whoever was taking the picture. Was it my mom? Our dad? I don’t remember.
Carter chuckles, resting his jacket on the back of his office chair and walking over with his hands in his pockets. “He never liked getting photos taken of him. Danny’s grandmother had to bribe him with cookies just to take that one.”
Mable. I’ve only seen her twice since Ainsley’s birthday party. Her nurses keep me updated on her health and they haven’t had a lot of positive news to give me. She’s been struggling and there’s nothing I can do to help.
Something brushes my arm. “You okay?”
I find myself shaking my head. “Mable isn’t doing well these days. She’s in a home for her dementia and it’s getting worse.”
His frown greets me when I look up. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” He studies my sullen expression for a moment before looking back at the picture. “Do you see her a lot?”
“I try to go a couple times a month.” My schedule hasn’t allowed me to do that lately, and if I do have time her nurses tell me it may be better not to come until she’s having a better day. It kills me to see her like that. They know it. I know it. It’s better for everyone if my emotional ass isn’t there when she slips. “It’s hard not to react when the switch flips for her. One minute you’re you, the next she thinks you’re somebody else. It happens in seconds, Carter.”
His hand squeezes mine. “She’s strong.”
My lips rub together. “Nobody is strong enough to fight that.” It’s a truth I hate speaking aloud, but it’s true. There are a lot of diseases that aren’t fair. Why they exist is beyond me. I’ve never been a religious person, never once been to church, but if there’s a God out there I don’t get why He’d create such horrible things.
I clear my throat and walk over to my bag, moving it to the floor and sitting in the hideous yellow chairs they supply for the faculty offices. He follows suit, pressing a hand against the front of his black shirt before sitting in his. “I meant what I said before. You can talk to me about anything. If there’s anybody who can understand, it’s me.