Finding Carson Lee (Oh Captain, My Captain 3)

“I’m very sorry, Mama. It won’t happen again.” I need to butter her up or this is going to be a night from hell.

She doesn’t say anything but looks at the menu. Daddy pats my hand and winks. As we decide on what to order, Mama goes into a long story of some neighbor whose daughter is pregnant and how great it would be if she had grandchildren. I hang my head and pretend that I’m studying the menu. When, in reality, I want to yell and tell her that she’ll never get grandkids if she keeps nagging me about it.

Mama has been this way since Elliott asked me to marry him. She had my wedding planned in a matter of days. At the time, it seemed like a great idea. Marriage, careers, a house, and we did love each other. Until I started staying at work more, and we grew apart.

Yes, I put my career first and that was wrong. But I’m happy now and I know that Elliott will find someone.

“Well, if it isn’t Kinley Wright?”

“Oh no,” the words escape me the moment I hear my name. I look up and give Carson Lee a face of disgust. “Birmingham isn’t as big as it used to be,” I mumble.

“Oh now, Kinley.” Carson almost pouts at me.

“Go away.”

“Kinley,” Mama hisses at me. “Don’t be rude.”

“Now, Kinley, you didn’t tell me you had a younger sister.” Carson charms my mama into giggles. “I’m Carson Lee.”

“Well, aren’t you just precious. I’m Kinley’s mama, Ruby Wright.” She gingerly shakes his hand. “And this is my husband, Perry Wright.” Carson also shakes his hand.

“Very nice to meet you both. I’m sure Kinley has talked non-stop to you about me already-”

“Will you shut up and go away?” I cut him off in mid sentence.

“Kinley,” it’s my dad this time that stops me from cussing him out. “Mr. Lee, would you like to join us?”

“No, he wouldn’t,” I almost yell. “I’m sure he has several dates for this evening that he needs to attend to.”

“Actually, I would love to join you. I don’t have any plans.” He sits right next to me.

I can’t believe my day. First, my boss and now this. Thankfully, the waiter comes back, and we all order. Of course, I request another bottle of wine because I need it.

“Carson, what do you do for a living?” Mama starts in. I knew that would happen.

“I’m a professional hockey player for the Alabama Blacksmiths, ma’am.” Carson’s voice is polite, almost kind. He’s never this nice. He’s lying through the caps on his teeth.

Daddy snaps his fingers. “That’s how I know you! You’ve been having a good season.”

“Thank you. I wish Kinley knew that much about me at least.” He eyes me.

“I know that much.” I sneer at him.

“Carson, where are you from? You sound like a yankee.” Mama smiles at him. I know that look. It means she’s going to measure him up like a hunter preparing to shoot his bow.

“That I am. I’m originally from Michigan.”

Mama continues her CIA-like questioning. “Are your parents still there? Or have they moved down here to be closer to you?”

“They’re still up there.” Carson looks unsure by his answer, but it’s possible he’s been drinking.

“Do you see them often? I know hockey people travel a lot.”

Hockey people? Even I know that they’re called players.

“I see them when I can.”

The waiter brings our drinks, and I notice Carson takes a large gulp.