“But when Ty found out George had problems at birth…" He stops mid-sentence.
I lean forward, straining for an answer. “What kind of problems?”
His chest heaves, taking in a deep breath of air. “George is special, Miss Madison. He had some trouble as an infant. Just a little slower in developing than the others. Tyler was too grief-stricken to take care of him. Blamed George for my daughter’s death. And then, one day, Ty just up and left the farm. Poof! He was gone. We never heard from him again until the sheriff came by a few years later and gave us the news that he’d died in a car crash outside of Birmingham. My late wife Rosie and I were awarded sole custody of George. We raised him as our own.”
He pauses for a beat before his following comment arranges all the puzzle pieces to form the big picture.
“When George was a little bit older, we headed to a specialist in Atlanta and had some tests done. Come to find out, he’s… neurodivergent.”
I blink back at him. “George is on the autism spectrum?”
“Yes.”
Snapshots of him quickly filter through my mind: his over exaggerated, beaming white smile, his generous gift of lavender, his courteous manners, and his exuberant wave goodbye. I also recall his striking blue eyes and incredible strength. The thought of the handsome man makes my cheeks flush, and I fidget in my seat.
“Rosie and I did our best. I like to think George is a better man because of his Grandma Rosie,” he continues. “She passed away a little over four years ago; God rest her soul.” He looks away, the sorrow in his voice noticeable.
I still don’t know what to say. The pain this family has endured reminds me of my own family drama when my parents divorced and then my father’s death. I place my hand on his arm and squeeze.
Changing the subject, he clears his throat and soldiers on, not allowing me to find the right words to express my condolences.
“George can fix just about anything mechanical. Give him a broken-down truck engine, vacuum cleaner, or garbage disposal, and he’ll have it up and running again in no time. It’s a God-given talent he has, for sure. Now, he’ll be the first to admit he’s no whiz in math or people skills. But I gotta tell ya, he’s a natural when it comes to farming. Took to it like a fish to water. He’s been a remarkable asset to our bottom line. The flower fields are all his doing.”
I smile. “Other than math, he sounds perfectly fine to me.”
Mr. Jamison nods. “He’s high functioning. He just struggles from time to time with social and sensory difficulties. That’s why I didn’t bring him along tonight. He can get real sensitive when folks start discussing business and numbers.”
I can’t imagine George’s reaction if he knew anything about the lucrative deal I’m negotiating to buy the family land. My heart lurches with guilt.
“Thank you for the explanation. And I’m sorry about your wife, Mr. Jamison. My sincerest apologies. I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t.” He puts his napkin on his empty dinner plate. “There’s something else you need to know. And I hope you’re okay with me being completely transparent. I should warn you, though, this one’s a doozie.”
“Of course. You can tell me anything.”
He blows out a long, slow breath. “I have terminal cancer.”
I gasp out loud and realize that’s why Jenny said the entire town was praying for him. I cover my gaping mouth with my hand, my eyes unexpectedly welling with tears.
“There’s no cure for me, but don’t worry, the doc says the cancer is slow growing, and I have some time.” He returns the favor and pats my free hand gripping the side of the table. This dying man is comforting me when I’m the one who should be comforting him.
“While I’ve still got my wits about me, I know it’s time to make some difficult decisions.” He entwines his fingerstogether on the table, his sad expression highlighting the weathered lines of his face.
"So, young lady. Give it to me straight. I’d like to hear what you and your company might have to offer. You got a number for me?”
I blink back at him in shock. “You’re really thinking about selling, Mr. Jamison?”
I should’ve been excited, ecstatic he’d just set me up perfectly for my shot. But instead, my heart sinks, knowing this is a man wrapping up the loose ends of his life.
He sighs and averts his eyes. “Let’s just say I’m looking at all of my options. And please, it’s about time you started calling me Ralph.” He looks back up and offers me a reassuring smile.
What about George?My inner dialogue screams.What will happen to George if he no longer has this farm?
I keep my composure and offer him a warm smile. “Okay, Ralph.”
“I like you, Madison. And I’d like to think we’re friends now since I’ve told you everything. I believe you’ll be honest with me, won’t you?”
I sit up a little straighter. “Of course I will. You have my word. I’ll guide you every step of the way.” I mean it too. “In fact, I have something for you right here, right now if you want it.”
