Carson closed the door behind him and Dove curled up in her normal spot at the foot of the bed. Carson laid his briefcase next to the small desk in his room. He never worked up here but the desk was a fond remainder of happier times. The day had been a long one with more confrontation than pleasure unfortunately. He was tired of the bickering and endless whining.
Carson was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. The deep slumber of a man confident in his decisions but weary of the battles resulting from those same decisions. His rhythmic snoring soon filled the room.
The first rays of dawn were peaking over the San Francisco Peaks to the east when Carson awoke the next morning. The birds were starting their morning chatter outside his window as he lay there. The dawn broke over the horizon a brilliant splash of pink and orange as it filtered through the towering Ponderosa Pines.
Glancing at the clock on his bedside, Carson shook his head. “Dove, old girl, I remember a time when I could sleep well past ten in the morning. Now I’m blessed if I sleep past seven.” Dove glared at him with one eye opened, clearly communicating her displeasure at having been awoken so early.
The house was still and there was little noise from outside other than the birds greeting the day. Carson got up and decided to head into the office early. He had a relatively light day ahead of him but that was no reason to dawdle. Besides it was Friday, and that meant no staff in the office unless they had pressing business to attend. Carson long ago had implemented the no work on Friday rule when he opened his law office. Too many hours were spent working the rest of the week and young lawyers eager to scramble the ladder of success often forgot to have any semblance of a personal life.
Morning routine completed, Carson headed downstairs to scour up some breakfast for himself. He wasn’t surprised to find Rita already there stumbling around making coffee. “Morning sleepyhead,” came his amused greeting.
Rita glared at him in response. She was not a morning person. “Go away big brother, go away.” Her voice was gruff with sleep, her hair a wild disarray, and her fuzzy lime green slippers the most cheerful thing about her at this point in the day. The coffee finished brewing and she grabbed her cup and held it close, inhaling the dark, bitter brew’s scent deeply. The smell of the coffee perked her up and she smiled as she took that first sip of the day.
Turning to him she asked, “Now what can I make you?”
He laughed, “Nothing. I’m more than capable of fending for myself. Now go back upstairs and wake up. I’ll see you later.”
Rita waved at him as she shuffled from the room, more asleep than awake still. Carson popped a coffee pod into the machine and threw together a breakfast burrito for himself. He had learned long ago that he needed to eat a hearty breakfast because most days he was so busy he forgot about lunch entirely. Strong cup of coffee in one hand and his breakfast in the other, Carson made his way to the back door. He shrugged into a warm jacket and found his way to his seat at the outside table.
It was cold but there was nothing he liked more than breakfast outside when weather permitted. The wind was brisk and cold from the snowcapped Peaks but the air was clean and smelled of pine. The surrounding woods were waking up, the level of chatter from wildlife increasing steadily as Carson ate. Breakfast completed, Carson sat there enjoying the outdoors and silently promising himself that once the practice was disband he would spend more time outdoors simply doing nothing more strenuous than bird watching from this very spot.
Glancing down at his watch he noticed that it was already seven-thirty and he pushed away from the table somewhat reluctantly. Dishes deposited in the sink, Carson headed for the office. Smithson was already awake with residents meeting at the diner and heading out for the day. Carson, like all residents, took a good sniff of the morning air as he drove past the diner. He wasn’t too proud to admit that on some days he stopped for a second breakfast because the smells from Winston’s kitchen were that intoxicating.
Pulling into the parking lot, Carson parked and then noticed he failed to grab his briefcase from the bedroom. He laughed out loud, “As if I needed any proof of my age.” He shook his head, knowing that the briefcase could wait until Monday. Unlocking the office and heading toward his office, he flicked lights on as he went. The office was quiet, the only sound that could be heard was the hum of the office equipment.
“Good,” he thought. “No one else is here and I can get some serious work done before that blasted interview at eleven.”
He sunk into his cold office chair, shivered involuntarily at the cold leather beneath his jeans, and buried his head in a file. He worked undisturbed for about an hour when he heard the office door open. Glancing down at his watch, he did not notice as the intruder entered his office.
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