Page 72 of Her Cadillac Cowboy
CHAPTER TWENTY
Josh stood in the nursery doorway about ten feet away from the picnic table area and watched Sara’s father. Millie had said that Carl Carson was making great progress. He was walking more and eating healthier. He’d even involved himself with some of the older children. Josh hadn’t seen it.
Carl sat morosely at a table, shoulders hunched and hands over his ears.
Josh wasn’t surprised. Carl was a salesman and a car jock. He was used to fast cars and having complete control of his environment. Here at the day care, he had none of that. Kids had no ignition switches, no gas or brake pedals, no steering wheels. And they didn’t buy cars.
Carson had never related well when he had no chance to sell. Look at his own kids. He’d given Sara and Donny everything but demanded more. The end result was Carl Carson had alienated his son and turned his daughter into a driven woman unable to choose happiness because she needed her daddy’s approval first.
Josh shook his head. Sara was a sharp businesswoman, but her father’s inability to recognize that made her emotional life hell. Josh didn’t like seeing her hurt, and that’s what Carson was doing.
A flurry of miniature Nerf balls showered Carl and the picnic table where he sat. Grabbing and slapping, he did his best to fend off the soft missiles. For the space of sixty seconds a herd of screaming children chasing after the colorful spheres surrounded him. One of the staff approached, and the children disappeared as quickly as they’d come.
Josh couldn’t hold back a grin at the sour expression on Carson’s face.
“Tchah! Kids, I don’t know why anyone thinks this is a good place to recover from a heart attack.”
If the old man would let go of his need for complete control of his surroundings, he might discover that children were a cure for just about everything. Even interacting with the worst kid was a chance for personal growth, to say nothing of the satisfaction that came from watching positive changes.
“Wanna p’ay wif me?” The question came from a carrot-topped moppet barely tall enough to shine what Josh knew from experience were cornflower-blue eyes over the edge of the table.
“Git away, kid. Go play somewhere else.”
“You gots my ball. Gimme.”
Carson looked down to find a yellow Nerf mashed inside his fist.
“Here.” He tossed the word and the sphere at the kid. He missed. The ball sailed over the moppet’s shoulder.
Tiny hands pushed away from the table. “You’re not nice.” Then she ran off, leaving Carl to stew in his own ill humor.
The man just couldn’t learn. Josh was about to give Carson a piece of his mind when Will stepped up to the picnic table.
“She’s right. You aren’t nice.”
Carl glared up at the teen. Wondering what Will intended, Josh straightened, ready to step in if the encounter went sideways. The boy’s gray-green eyes blazed with challenge. His slouch made an art of belligerent defiance. Carl would hate that as well as the wild, long hair and sloppy clothes Josh knew formed a studied attack on any conservative value system.
“You’re that punk who vandalized my cars.”
“Yeah, that’s me. How’d you figure it?”
“I hear things.”
The kid cocked an eyebrow.
Josh gave the teen points for audacity. Will knew how to irritate.
“What would a no count punk like you know aboutnice?” Carl growled.
“I know that every time Ms. Carson spends more’n two minutes talkin’ t’you, she’s angry for the rest of the day. I know you aren’t as sick as you make out.”
“How would you know how sick I am?”
A smile of victory stretched across the teen’s face. “I hear things.”
The words tolled out in perfect imitation of Carl’s own surly utterance. The smile that grew on the old man’s face amazed Josh. So that was the key to Carl Carson. He loved a challenge. It made sense. Making a deal, persuading someone to buy when they were uncertain or reluctant was a challenging profession.
How did I miss that? In all the years I’ve known Sara and her family, how did I miss something so essential about her father? Hell, Uncle Sampson missed it, too, and he was one of the most perceptive men I know.
