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“Can I talk to you for a sec, Linds?” she asked.
“Sure,” I replied, looking over at Kyzer momentarily. “I’ll be just a sec.”
I followed her into our small kitchen, curious as to what she needed to say before I left.
“What am I supposed to do when whatever G-man your stepfather is sending gets here for Chrissake?”
“First off, Darce, why are you referring to them as G-Men? This is starting to sound like something in a bad Edward G. Robinson movie.”
“Who?” she asked, her brow furrowed.
“Never mind,” I replied brusquely. Darcy had no clue about my passion for old black and white movies.
“I mean, don’t you think you should stay here until he gets here?”
“Look Darce, I haven’t seen Kyzer in a couple of weeks. I want to spend time with him. I’m safe, okay? When whoever it is gets here, you know just as much as I do about those freaking roses so whatever.”
“Okay,” she shrugged. “I’ll see you later then.”
I was sick of feeling like a prisoner.
The whole time I was at Mom and Slate’s I had no car to use, and half of the time I didn’t even have a phone at my disposal. I was not going to be some paranoid lunatic tonight. I was going to have a nice dinner with Kyzer.
Kyzer took me to a local restaurant called “Spoons.” I loved the atmosphere there. It was quaint, yet trendy. We ordered white chicken chili and burritos.
“Kyzer, I want to thank your father so much for his generosity with dispatching his private plane for the benefit of my grandmother. That was extremely generous and compassionate. Would it be appropriate for me to call him personally? I mean, I figure he must be a busy man, but I wanted to extend my gratitude personally.”
“Lindsey, there is no need; trust me. I know we don’t know each other well, so you don’t know the specifics about my family.”
I bit into my burrito waiting for him to continue. I figured all families had their idiosyncrasies. After all, my family was a perfect example of that. I hadn’t shared any of that with Kyzer.
“I’m an only child. My mother died when I was only four years old. I was basically raised by household staff and a nanny. My father was extremely busy with his company, The Stanfield Group. It is headquartered in Miami. Even though our home is in Naples, my father always preferred the gulf side of Florida as opposed to the Atlantic side. So, it meant that my father spent the work week in an apartment in Miami and then came home to Naples on the weekends. Essentially, I didn’t have the normal, day-to-day interaction with him that is typical growing up.”
I could emphasize with Kyzer. Even though my father had been a busy executive, climbing his way up in my grandfather’s company, he was home as much as possible while I was growing up.
Still, I knew how it felt to participate in a spelling bee, or a soccer tournament and not have my father there watching me. Kyzer’s situation was even worse being that his mother passed away when he was at such a young age.
“Kyzer, I am so sorry. That must have been really tough on you.”
“It was,” he replied, “but I understood. He provided extremely well for me. He always made sure that I knew he only wanted the very best for me.”
I nodded my head. I understood how he felt to a certain extent.
“About four years ago, my father remarried. I was away at military school at the time. It caught me by surprise, because I couldn’t figure out how he had the time to even cultivate a relationship as much as his business kept him busy.
"His new wife had worked at his corporate office. That is how they met. My stepmother is not the type you read about in fairytales. She is actually a very nice, compassionate, and caring person. I don’t remember much of my mom, but I know that she would approve of my father remarrying a woman like my stepmother."
He paused, collecting his thoughts and then continued.
"Anyway, my father started showing signs of dementia about a year after they married. My stepmother would not put him in some institution or nursing home. He is still at home with nurses and my stepmother watching over him. I guess what I’m trying to say is that my father is way past the decision-making stage these days. So, if you want to thank anyone, it would have to be my stepmother, Sue Ellen. She pretty much is running everything since my father is, well, incapacitated permanently. She has managed his business plus the household responsibilities. She is adamant that I need to focus on my studies and not worry about anything.”
“Oh, Kyzer,” I said, “that is so sad but I am so glad that your stepmother has stepped up to the plate and understands the importance of you continuing your education. I imagine at some point, you will be taking over your father’s position at his company.”
“That’s the plan,” he replied. “I’m interning this summer at one of his pilot facilities in Atlanta. It was the last start-up facility he oversaw before he got ill. I don’t even like to think about it though because that means my dad will be gone forever.”
I reached across the table, capturing his hand into mine. I hadn’t shared with him anything about the situation with my father except that he was absent from my life.
To be honest, I felt ashamed. I knew Kyzer wasn’t the type to pass judgment, but it was difficult for me to articulate the events as painful as they were.
