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“I’m so sorry about this,” Olivia said.
Carson pushed his chair away from the table with an air of resignation. “I guess we’ve reached the point in the story when Gaston shows up to storm the castle.”
“What?” Mr. Clark asked.
Olivia wasn’t about to let Carson go talk to her father. She stood up, nearly tipping her chair over in her eagerness to reach her father first. “He’s just upset because I was crying in my message. I’ll go explain that it was all a misunderstanding and tell him he doesn’t have to work here after all.”
Mrs. Clark kept her voice low. “He can’t drive anywhere in his condition. He’ll have to stay until he sobers up.”
By that time, her father had rounded the corner and spotted the group. He stomped toward them, arms swinging at his side like anvils being pounded. He was six feet tall, and even though he had a beer gut, he also had muscles that came from decades of manual labor. When he picked a fight, he was used to the other man backing down.
Mrs. Clark clicked her tongue. “Oh wait, now I remember your parents.”
Great. There was really no saving this dinner.
Olivia hurried over to intercept her father. “Everything is fine. Forget all the stuff I said in my message. It was just a misunderstanding between Carson and me.”
Her father wasn’t listening. He sidestepped her and kept marching toward Carson. “You think you can have your way with my little girl and then abandon her?”
Carson raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Abandon her? That’s what you’re going to accuse me of?”
Her father wagged a finger at Carson. “I’m accusing you of the stuff before that too. Didn’t you hear that part?”
Carson stood up, slowly peeling himself out of his chair so that her father could get a full view of just how tall he was, just how strong. He had six inches on her father and used that height to look down at him. “I have no intention of abandoning Olivia. Only a self-centered jerk would do that to the people he loves.”
Her father remained silent for a moment, taking in Carson’s stature.
Olivia grabbed hold of her father’s arm. “Carson actually broke up with Megan a while back. I just didn’t know that. Again, all a misunderstanding.”
Her father finally listened to her. Either that or he realized that fighting Carson wouldn’t go well for him. His stance relaxed and he unfisted his hands. He lifted his chin and fixed Carson with an appraising stare. “You’re telling me your intentions are honorable?” Or at least that’s probably what he meant to say. His last word came out as “horn-a-rible”
“Completely,” Carson said.
To emphasize the point, Olivia added, “His mother came up today to meet me.”
Her father turned to the Clarks as though noticing them for the first time. “Ah, you’re meeting his parents. It’s come to that. When were you planning to introduce him to yours?”
“Not tonight,” she said. “Not like this.”
Mrs. Clark stood up and gestured to the table in a welcoming manner. “Why don’t you join us for dinner? We have more than enough food.”
Her father looked hesitant, or at least like he wanted more convincing. Having her drunk father crashing dinner was the last thing Olivia wanted, but Mrs. Clark was right, he shouldn’t drive anywhere until he sobered up. Food in his stomach would help.
“Carson,” Mrs. Clark said in a hostess voice, “can you fetch a plate, glass, and utensils for Mr. Travers?” And just like that her father’s place at the table was secured and all of the drama swept under the rug.
Carson went to the guest house and brought back the needed items. Olivia’s father sat down, suddenly happy and more than willing to shoot the breeze with the Clarks. Along with his flair for the dramatic, he always enjoyed being the center of attention.
And to think Olivia had been worried about what to say to Carson’s parents during dinner. Turned out, her father was more than willing to carry the conversation. Olivia ate her food silently, gaze on her plate, for most of the meal.
Yeah, Olivia wasn’t going ask Carson how he rated this meeting with his parents. She was pretty sure it exceeded many of his expectations, but not in a good way.
22
Olivia spent the next two days painting walls. Everyone agreed the color was a better fit. Her father stayed until Thursday to help out with the renovations. He probably stayed to help because he felt bad about drunk-crashing her dinner with the Clarks. But whatever the reason, he was sober and helpful. He was able to get some of the more difficult trim work done that had given the crew trouble.
Mrs. Clark also stayed, making meals for the crew during the day before disappearing into the guest house. She said she wanted to spend more time with Carson before he left for Denver, but Olivia was pretty sure she was chaperoning the two of them.
Mrs. Clark was always nice to Olivia, but Olivia wasn’t sure whether the woman liked her or not. She was pleasant and asked Olivia a lot of questions, but didn’t really give her advice or remind Carson to act like a gentleman. Those were the things Carson said she’d do if she liked his girlfriend. But she also didn’t subtly point out Olivia’s shortcomings. Perhaps Mrs. Clark hadn’t made up her mind about her son’s latest choice.
