A Sweethaven Summer by Courtney Walsh

Author:Courtney Walsh [Walsh, Courtney]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Contemporary
ISBN: 9780824945190
Google: 8S3-ygAACAAJ
Amazon: 0824945190
Barnesnoble: 0824945190
Goodreads: 12883940
Publisher: Guidepost Books
Published: 2012-02-01T06:00:00+00:00

Campbell

Mr. Hanes ushered Campbell into the classroom. The man, who bore a striking resemblance to Santa Claus, waited for her questions. What if this man was her father? No telling how charming and handsome he’d been twenty-five years ago.

“Sir, I wanted to talk to you about a student of yours. Her name was Suzanne Carter, and she took a summer class with you when she was seventeen.”

He frowned. “I have a lot of students, Miss…what’d you say your name was?”

“Campbell Carter.”

“So, this girl—she’s your mom?”

Campbell nodded. “I was wondering if you might remember her.” Campbell opened her purse and pulled out a scrapbook page. She pointed to her mom’s photo. “That’s her.”

He studied the picture, but no sign of recognition crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember her. If I only had her one summer, that would’ve been a six-week class. Not much time to get to know my students.”

Campbell took the page from him. “You’re sure?”

“I am. Is she missing?”

“No. I was actually hoping you might know if she was dating any of the other students or…”

“Or?” His brow furrowed.

“If maybe you might’ve had some kind of…romance with her?” Had she really just asked that?

Mr. Hanes cleared his throat. “Miss Carter, I don’t think I like where this is headed.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything.” Campbell’s stomach churned.

“That’s not how it looks from where I’m sitting. Men in my profession have to be especially careful to avoid these sorts of accusations. I can tell you in no uncertain terms that I was never involved with your mother or any other student.” He didn’t raise his voice, but Campbell didn’t question his intent.

“I understand.” She cracked her knuckles. “I’m really just trying to find my father. I needed to exhaust all my resources.”

His face softened. “Well, no harm done.”

“Do you keep your class lists?”

“We weren’t computerized back then, but I have files that go back at least that long. I’ve got my own system, I guess.” He walked over to a large metal file cabinet that had to be fifty years old. He yanked the bottom drawer open. “The eighties are on the bottom.”

Campbell watched as he flipped through the files and finally held up a manila folder.

“Eighty-six,” he said. He opened it and rubbed his beard. “Hm. Looks like there was only one boy in that class.”

“Really?”

“Tony Angelotti.”

Campbell rummaged through her purse until she found the small notebook she carried with her. “Does it say anything else about him?” Her heart raced.

“No natural talent,” Mr. Hanes read from the sheet in front of him. “Guess he wasn’t much of an artist.”

Campbell smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Hanes. This is really helpful.”

“My pleasure.”

“If you think of anything else, would you mind giving me a call?”

“Sounds fair,” he said.

Campbell jotted down her cell number and thanked him for his time.

She wished the elevator could transport her to a land free of embarrassment. What was she doing accusing random men of being her father? But she’d risk embarrassment all over again if it got her closer to the truth.

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