Carson shifted back in his chair. “Bein’s we still live in the thick of things, the boys come over and ask for advice and help occasionally. I feel retired, but I’m not out of it completely.”
“No plans to spend winters down south?”
“Maybe a week or two. Especially if Ky ends up goin’ to ASU. But Caro won’t ever want to stay away from here for long. Too many memories.” Carson paused. “Too many grandkids.”
Jack honed in on the ASU comment and they spent the next ten minutes discussing the activities various McKay offspring were involved in, which segued into a conversation about college sports, which led to a discussion about Carter’s most recent commissions—metal sculptures depicting famous western athletes in action. Then the conversation came full circle as they talked about Jack’s projects and the growth of Keely’s physical therapy business.
“I want Keely to hire an employee, but she’s dragging her feet,” Jack said.
“Why? I thought she wanted to be home more.”
“She does. But she doesn’t think she’ll find anyone who’s qualified who only wants to work twenty hours a week. I’ve crunched the numbers for her and if she hires someone fulltime, she’ll still be in the black the first year. With another therapist, if she increases the amount of clients by a third, she’ll double her income in three years.”
“And the girl ain’t listening to you…why?”
“She’s stubborn. She says I already have enough money—” he snorted as if that couldn’t possibly be true, “—and I should retire and stay home with the kids.”
“Retirement ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“I’ve heard that.” Jack checked his watch. “Speaking of work… I have a phone conference to prepare for. Is there anything I can do for you before I take off?”
Carson shook his head. “It’s a whole lot of waitin’ around.”
“If you think of something—anything at all—call me. I say that knowing full well that you won’t.”
“You’ve already done enough if you can keep my Keely girl on an even keel throughout this.”
“She puts on a happy face for our kids but once they’re down for the night, she does a whole lot of staring into space.”
“I’m familiar with that. But I pace too, just to mix it up.”
Jack smiled. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask. “For when you’re missing your Irish and need a nip to get you through this last day.”
“Thanks.” Carson nestled it in the bag of magazines on the floor. “Comin’ from Mr. Moneybags, I imagine it’s higher quality stuff than Jameson.”
“Of course. Once I get you used to drinking Laphroaig you’ll never go back.”
La-froyg. Even the name sounded fancy. “Unlikely, but I appreciate the gesture.”
“Take care.” Jack paused before he turned the corner. “Keely…will swallow her pride and come see you.”
“I’d like that.” Carson studied him. “So you are here on her behalf?”
“She’s my wife, she’s miserable and it’s killing me that I can’t fix it for her.” He raked his hand through his hair. “So yeah, I have to at least try.”
Yep, his baby girl had done very well in choosing the man to spend her life with.
As he watched Jack walk away, phone to his ear, he knew the man couldn’t fathom retiring.
Funny how the years had crept up on him. One day he was a young, married man wondering how he’d support his growing family, then in the blink of an eye he was wondering how he’d spend his days because he had all this free time…
Carson, Cal and Charlie were at the Golden Boot discussing retirement after they’d handed over the reins of McKay Ranches. Casper hadn’t been invited for a celebratory beer after the stink he’d raised about being forcibly retired. Carson was glad his boys got along well, for the most part, with each other and with their cousins.
“So it will sink in at some point, right?” Cal asked. “That we don’t have to oversee what they’re doin’ on a daily basis?”
“I guess. None of us have been doin’ as much as we used to. Seems like I’ve been semi-retired for a while anyway,” Carson said.
“I hear ya.” Charlie sipped his beer. “What did Dad do in retirement?”
“It wasn’t like he officially retired. He couldn’t do the daily work after the first heart attack. Mentally he was fine, but ain’t a whole lot of ranch work that’s mental. Menial?” Carson grinned. “Hell yes.”
“After that last heart attack, he kept up with what his grandkids were doin’ as long as he didn’t have to venture too far from our place.”
“I doubt Kimi kept him entertained,” Charlie said. “So my question remains the same. What did he do all day?”
“He watched TV in his room.”
“That’s it?”
Cal shrugged. “I dunno. While Dad didn’t have nothin’ to do I sure did. I worked that section pretty much by myself. Then at night, I spent time with Kimi and the boys. After the twins went to bed if Dad was still up we’d bullshit about stuff. I never heard him say he was bored.”
“I sure as f**k don’t want my retirement to be sittin’ around and watchin’ goddamned TV,” Carson said.
“I’m sure your kids would love to dump some of the two hundred grandkids you have off on you every day,” Cal said.
“Piss off, Cal.”
“Maybe you oughta tell Carolyn you’re worried about bein’ bored. She’ll have you in the kitchen learnin’ to cook in no time,” Charlie added.
“You can piss off too, Charlie.”
Cal and Charlie laughed and knocked their beer bottles together.
Carson’s gaze traveled around the Golden Boot. “Maybe we oughta start a bar. This place needs some competition.”
“It has competition: Ziggy’s, Twin Pines, the Rusty Spur. Though I’ll admit I liked that place better when it was the Silver Spur years ago,” Cal said.
“Place was a fire hazard, which is why it burned to the ground. After the owners rebuilt it and renamed it the Rusty Spur, Carolyn made me take her there for a drink. She figured since the old place and old name was gone, then her lifetime ban oughta be lifted too.”