| |
Carter
––––––––
Sunday evening, I scroll through my phone, trying to find the best pool contractors in Colorado. They are definitely few and far between. Being as swimming pools are only used between May and maybe October, it’s understandable why more people don’t invest in them. Still, Taryn was right, I really need to put one in my backyard. There’s too much space and it would be nice to entertain here more often in the summers.
I submit a few online requests to be called back for not only the pool, but travertine stone and an outdoor kitchen as well. I can already hear my wallet crying from where it sits on the entryway table.
My phone rings while I’m holding it, the screen reading an unfamiliar number.
“Hello?” I answer, thinking no way one of these contractors is already calling me five minutes after I submitted a quote request.
“Carter?” a female voice asks.
“Yes?” I reply, confused as to who this sad voice can belong to.
“It’s Mom,” she says. “Do you have a minute?”
I try to steel my emotions and practice some patience. “What do you want?”
“I need some help, son.”
“What else is new? If you’re calling to ask for money, my answer is still the same.”
When she used to call for money, I always gave it to her and never saw it again. At first, I didn’t care if she didn’t pay me back, but the more frequent it got, the more I realized she was using me.
“I’m gonna get evicted. I just need seven hundred to keep my place,” she says.
“So, I haven’t heard from you in, what, two years, and now you call because you want money?”
“I wanted to see you. It’s just, the pandemic, and—”
“Didn’t prevent phone calls,” I snap, interrupting her.
“Well, you didn’t call me either,” she defends.
I laugh humorlessly. “Really, and how would you know that? Oh, yeah, because you change your number so often, I’m usually greeted by an unfamiliar person telling me I have the wrong number. So I stopped trying to call.” I look at the phone screen at the Colorado Springs area code. “Is this your new number now? You living in Springs?”
“Yes, it’s a little cheaper to live here than Denver. I just need seven hundred so I’m not out on the street.”
“What are you doing with all your money, Mother?” I ask, already exasperated.
“I lost my job at the Quik Stop. I’ve been looking for another one...” She trails off.
“No, you haven’t. Were you drunk or high this time to get fired? Mom, you need to get your shit together. You’ve been this way since I was a kid and I’m over it,” I snap.
She ignores the question. “But you have a lot of money, Carter. What do you need it all for? Seven hundred is nothing to you,” she says, her voice cracking like she’s about to cry. She probably is. She cries every time we talk, which isn’t often, but she always turns on the waterworks.
“That’s not the point and you know it,” I reply. “Get clean. Get your shit together. You’re only fifty-eight. You’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. I don’t see how that’s so hard to comprehend.”
“But I’m sick,” she replies. “I have headaches and body aches all the time. And I’m depressed.”
“All of those things are symptoms of addiction. Get clean, then you’ll get better.”
The phone beeps with an incoming call.
“But—”
“I gotta go. If you need money for a rehab center, call me and we’ll talk. Otherwise, sorry, Ma.” I end the call and answer the other. “Hello?”
“May I speak to Carter Lockwood?” an unfamiliar voice asks.
“Speaking,” I reply.
“Hi, this is Julie from Rocky Mountain Pools and Spas. How are you tonight?”
Wow, they really do work fast.
***
I look around at the mass of people at the park, all sitting on blankets or camping chairs, with children and food bags or baskets. There’s still a slight pinkening on the horizon behind the mountains, but a smattering of stars has poked out above. Taryn’s wearing a black tank with an American flag on it and jean short-shorts. I’ve got a matching tank as well because we’re apparently one of those disgusting couples who dress alike. She’s sitting between my legs, leaning her back against my front as we sit together on a big blue blanket, waiting for the fireworks to start.
“It’s a beautiful night,” she murmurs, reaching down to lace her fingers with mine.
“Yes, it is,” I agree into her hair.
“I’m so glad we decided to do this, just the two of us,” she says with a sigh. “Lincoln’s big BBQ was fun, but all those kids around wore me out.”
I chuckle. “They’re babies and toddlers.”
“Except the one little boy with the smart mouth. What’s his name? Brett?”
“Rhett. I think,” I reply, remembering Lincoln’s cousin’s kid.
“Yeah. That’s it. He’s adorable but God forbid you drop an F-bomb and he’s on you like white on rice, asking for a quarter for the swear jar.” She laughs.
“I thought it was cute,” I say with a shrug.
She snorts in agreement.
“I’m stuffed from all the food, too. My God, that man’s family can put on a big fucking spread,” I say, patting her belly because mine is covered by her body.
She laughs and pats my hand over her stomach. “Me too.”
A bright flash of red overhead gets our attention, and music begins to blast through the speakers as the fireworks show starts. It’s a beautiful fireworks display the park puts on every year.
“I haven’t been here since I was in college with some buddies,” I confess.
“Really? I like to try to come every year. It’s the best place to see the fireworks,” she says.
I lean down and whisper in her ear. “Maybe I should cancel the pool install and buy us a house at the base of the mountains where we can watch it all from our deck.”
“That sounds absolutely magical,” she replies, looking up at me and then kissing me softly. “Except I’ll still need a pool.”
“Anything for you,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her front and resting my head on the top of hers.
After the show is over, we gather our blanket and her handbag and make the slow trek out to the parking lot where my Bugatti is parked. I help her inside and begrudgingly drive her back to her condo, where she insists on staying the night tonight. It’s a work day tomorrow and she wants to get sleep, she claims, not be worn out from our sexcapades.
I drop her off at the base of the stone steps that lead up to her condo and make sure she’s safely at her door before I drive off, ready for sleep myself after a long day of too much food and sun.