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Carson said, “I’m not talking about you having kids, but maybe a wife.”
I couldn’t believe it. He was actually serious. “Weren’t you just complaining that you don’t get any time alone anymore? Isn’t that why you’re sitting in this pub with me now and not at home with Dottie?” Carson nodded and I added, “Then why would you want that for me?”
“When she’s not driving me crazy, she’s making me the happiest man alive,” he smiled.
“Yeah. Once again, what are you doing here with me?” I asked.
“She said I was driving her nuts and she needed a girls’ night out.”
“What are they doing? Some quilt class or something?” I joked.
“Nope. They all went to a comedy club, and I’m stuck here with you,” he said.
I laughed. “And here I thought all we’d be doing is talking business about bookings.”
Carson shrugged. “I know you’d say no. You haven’t agreed to one since you retired two years ago.”
“What if I would’ve accepted the offer?” I asked.
Carson’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that you’re considering doing more shows?”
When I announced my retirement two years ago, I had meant it. Doing charity events is nice, fulfilling, but still there is something lacking. I wasn’t used to all this free time on my hands. Some might enjoy it, but I’m….too young to sit here doing nothing.
“Not saying yes, but not saying no either. Don’t go looking for bookings, but if something crosses your way again, someplace that we’ve never been to before, let me know.”
Carson slapped his hand on the table and people looked at us to make sure everything was okay.
“Hell, yeah. Now, we’re talking. Wait till Dottie hears this. The three of us on the road again.”
“Carson, I said don’t go looking. If we do a show or two a year, that would be fine with me,” I said.
“Sure. Right. Got it.”
I knew damn well that Carson hadn’t ‘got it’. The wheels were already turning, and he probably would spend the next week just searching for places on the map for us to travel to.
There was a part of me that was excited for a new adventure, but deep inside, there was still something lacking from it. I might not know what it was, but I knew it wasn’t anything like golf. Hopefully if I get busy enough, this empty feeling will fade.
I better check that storage container. Looks like this magician, illusionist, might be coming out of retirement.
We finished our meal and Carson headed home. I stayed a little longer listening to the saddest excuse for someone attempting to sing One. The way he sounded it explained why one was the loneliest number for him. Even if someone was dead drunk, this guy would sound like a wounded animal.
The waitress walked over and said, “Mikal, please tell me you have a magic trick that can make him stop singing.”
I chuckled. “I do. It’s called “pull the plug on the microphone”.”
She sighed. “I wish I could. It’s going to be a long night.”
“Not for me. I think a quiet walk on the beach suits me fine tonight,” I said. I paid the bill and gave her a larger tip than usual. “Hope this helps dull the pain.”
She smiled and said, “I’ll use it to invest in quality ear plugs. See you tomorrow night.”
I nodded and left. One thing about being a regular meant the service was excellent, and I never had to worry about getting a table, even on a business night.
When I went to get onto the highway, there was a detour due to bridge painting taking place. The last thing I wanted was to sit in traffic on a nice night like tonight. I opted for the back roads. No streetlights, not many houses, and a lot slower so you don’t cross paths with a deer bolting in front of you.
There was a car on the side of the road with their emergency flashers on. I didn’t have any tools to fix a vehicle, but I wasn’t leaving someone stranded.
I pulled by the white Volkswagen Beetle and got out of my car. Even as I came around to the driver side door I knew the car was in need of a tow truck, not just roadside assistance. It wasn’t a flat tire, but the entire wheel had let go.
