Summer Love: Take Two by Shirley Jump

Author:Shirley Jump
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Published: 2018-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Carter headed into Malone’s Market a little after two, holding up a hand in his father’s direction before the question could be voiced. “Don’t ask.”

“I thought you were taking the day off to spend with Lauren. What happened?”

“What part of ‘don’t ask’ didn’t you hear?” Carter shook his head, letting out a low curse. From the second he’d dropped Lauren off at the resort, he’d been frustrated. He could blame it on the sun exposure, but truth was, he’d expected his plans to go another direction. What direction, he wasn’t sure. But definitely not down the drop me off, we’re done today way. Maybe a part of him had been trying to recapture the past, like some melancholy teenager who needed closure or something stupid like that. “Sorry, Dad. The day didn’t turn out like I hoped. Thanks for filling in for me. I can work the rest of the afternoon if you want to go home.”

“Don’t worry about it. If I go home, your mother is going to want help with the garden. As much as I love her, I’m not a big fan of planting azaleas.” Roger Malone came out from behind the counter, ducked down the aisle of freezer cases, reached inside and pulled something out, then held it toward his son. “Dreamsicle?”

“That’s not going to work.”

“Sure it is.” His father tick-tocked the orange and vanilla ice cream back and forth. “Whenever you had a bad day at school or got a bad grade, I’d—”

“Give me a Dreamsicle, then sit with me on the bench out front and we’d talk about it.” Carter chuckled. “I’m not twelve anymore.”

Roger shrugged. The amiable smile that was part and parcel of Roger’s personality curved across his face, making him look younger than his gray hair and sixty-two years announced. His brown eyes sparkled. “Store’s dead right now. The sun is shining. And look, what do you know, the bench is free.”

Carter knew when to admit defeat. Besides, he was kind of hungry. “Give me that.”

His father handed over the ice cream, chuckling as he followed his son outside. They settled beside each other on the wooden bench, both a little older and wider than the last time they’d done this, but still fitting comfortably on the well-worn seat. How many conversations had Carter had with his father in this very spot? It was where he’d learned about the birds and the bees, and where he’d been when he told his father he was heading to Chicago and not coming back. And then, years later, where he sat and prayed while his father clung to life in a hospital bed. For all of Carter’s life, the bench had sat there, solid, predictable, and comforting.

“Maybe I’m an idiot for trying to resurrect the past.” Carter sighed. “We were teenagers when we dated, and maybe it’s true what they say. You can’t go back again.”

“No, you can’t. But you can go forward.” Roger leaned forward and propped his arms on his knees.

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