TUESDAY TALES - SOMEONE LIKE YOU PART 2

 

And so we contintue with vacation Tuesday Tales. Another excerpt of "Someone Like You" - part 2! I hope you enjoy it and please leave a comment. 

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She noticed the other professors who would be presenting honors from different departments sat with their wives. Not Professor Garrett. He took his position alone. Charlotte wondered why he wasn’t married. Maybe his wife was sick?

Charlotte didn’t see her father following her stare.

“Don’t you go getting any ideas about Professor Garrett,” her father said.

Heat rushed to Charlotte’s face. She turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see.

“I got eyes, girl. I see the way you look at him. He’s forty. Too old for you. Widowed, too. So just forget it. With all the boys going to this college, you’d think a pretty girl like you would’ve picked one out by now,” Tom said, giving his head a little shake.

“Please, Pop. Be quiet!” Charlotte wanted to crawl under her chair. Fortunately, Professor Garrett didn’t hear. Or if he did, he didn’t turn around. She let out a breath. Sometimes her father could be a bull in a China shop.

“I mean…”

The band stuck up the national anthem. Everyone stood.

Charlotte welcomed any interruption of her father’s opinions on her life. 

When the song concluded, everyone sat and the president of Kensington State, Mac Caldwell, took the podium.

“Ladies and gentlemen, students, faculty, parents, family, and friends. It is my honor to present this year’s Ph. D. degrees.

Charlotte didn’t hear the rest of his speech. Her eyes filled. All she could think of was Corey’s achievement. Pride in her brother filled her heart, along with a sadness that her mother couldn’t be there to see her son’s success.

He’d nailed down a job teaching freshman English at Kensington State. Not because of his relationship with the president’s daughter, Kitty. They had kept that a secret. But because he had the highest grades of anyone in the graduate program. He’d received offers from several universities but picked Kensington State because he wanted to be close to Kitty, who worked at the University store while she finished up her Master’s. 

Charlotte sighed. Corey always showed up at home when meatloaf was served at the dorm. He’d join Charlotte and Tom for dinner whenever the dorm food slipped below his standards, which was often. After much experimentation her father had cheerfully endured, Charlotte had emerged as a gifted cook. Tom and Corey often complimented her on her meals. At thirty, Charlotte still lived with her father. Not that she didn’t want a place of her own. She had several friends who tried to persuade her to share an apartment. But she felt a responsibility to take care of her father. She’d been doing it since she was ten. And so she stayed.

Her father had never recovered from the loss of his wife. He withdrew. leaving the children to fend for themselves much of the time. Charlotte and Corey had grown close until he graduated high school. Although they lived near enough to commute to college, the boy insisted on moving into the Kensington State dorm, leaving Charlotte alone with her dad.

As she honed her skills, her father recognized he had the helper he’d wanted, just not in his son, but in his daughter. He gradually let go of his prejudices against women in the trades and his set ideas on women’s work and man’s work and let his daughter join him.

Steady and reliable, Charlotte did most of his simpler jobs. Her true love was woodworking. She created some of the most beautiful tables, chairs and cradles ever seen in Pine Grove, Willow Falls or anywhere.

When she wasn’t skim-coating and painting walls, or refinishing floors, Charlotte spent her time fulfilling the never-ending orders for her unique hand-crafted wood furnishings. When the construction was finished, she’d sand the beautiful wood until it was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. She’ run her hand over it and revel in the feel before applying paint, stain or wax.

Preorder for the book will be put up soon. Look for it to release in September. Thanks for stopping by.