Chapter Ten
Benson
Oklahoma
The restaurant was warm, tucked into a quiet corner of town, with soft jazz humming through the speakers and a fireplace casting flickering light across the polished wood floors.
Benson sat across from Kyle, the glow from the hearth painting gold into the boy’s hair as he leaned forward.
Outside, the cold pressed against the windows, but inside, everything felt still, like the world had paused just long enough for them to talk.
Benson had chosen the place for its cozy home charm, hoping it would make Kyle feel comfortable. He hadn’t expected how much he’d want to talk about himself. Kyle seemed to have so many hidden depths within him, and Benson sought to uncover the complete story of Kyle.
The server had taken their order. This time, he’d let Kyle order what he wanted. He told him not to worry about the cost; he would handle it. They both ordered the same fish dinner, which amused Benson. After they discussed the weather, the server brought their fresh bread.
“Why won’t you let me pay for my half?” Kyle asked.
“I’m the daddy, so you don’t question me on money matters. Part of my job is taking care of you. Let me be the daddy I want to be to you. Okay?”
“Yes, Daddy Benson,” Kyle whispered.
“Tell me how you met Sam?” Benson asked.
“I met him on the subway after some guys jumped him. He was badly beaten.”
“Then what happened?” he asked.
Kyle shrugged, chewing his bread slowly before answering. “After I took him to a shelter. It was rough there, but they got him the medical treatment he needed. I looked out for Sam, like he was my younger brother.”
Benson nodded, absorbing the weight of it. He hadn’t known Kyle had anything to do with shelters, but details were once again missing. He needed to know more.
He realized then that he’d been asking a lot without offering much in return. Kyle had opened up, little by little, and Benson hadn’t said a word about his own past. That didn’t sit right with him.
“You know,” Benson said, setting down his fork, “I haven’t told you anything about me. That’s not fair. You can ask me anything. I mean it.”
Kyle looked up, surprised. “Okay…Where do you live?”
“Petoskey in Michigan,” Benson said. “Big house on the lake. Too big, really. I basically live alone but Della, my niece, lives in the bungalow behind the house. She manages my home for me. Which means everything.”
He wasn’t sure this was a good thing to tell Kyle, but he didn’t want to lie about anything. Would he worry about being dumped in California and that Benson would return to Michigan? He didn’t know himself what he wanted to do in the long term; but whatever it was, it had to include Kyle.
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “What is Della like?”
“She’s the same age as you. Currently she’s in college and works for me. I wanted her to live in my house, but she wanted more privacy.”
“That sounds like a good set up.”
Benson nodded. “I work with my dad and my older brother, Logan. We run a family business—real estate, mostly. Lots of properties.”
Kyle nodded slowly. “So why aren’t you spending Christmas with them?”
Benson hesitated, then took a sip of water, letting the silence stretch just enough to feel honest. “My brother Logan and I had a fight. About raising rents. He didn’t care what it did to people with families, folks barely getting by.
I couldn’t stand it. My dad tried to mediate, but it just made things worse.
So, I left to think about the situation I was in. ”
Kyle’s expression softened. “You left…like, just left?”
“Yeah,” Benson said. “Packed up some things, started driving. I’ve been delivering presents to shelters and people on the street. I needed to do something that felt right. Something that reminded me who I am.”
Kyle looked down at his plate, then back up. “That’s…kind of amazing.”
Benson smiled, but it was faint. “It’s not heroic. It’s just me trying to figure out if I’m still the kind of person I want to be.”
The fire crackled behind them, and for a moment, neither spoke. The music drifted through the air like a lullaby.
Kyle leaned forward. “I think you’re a good man.”
Benson met his eyes, and something in his chest eased. Maybe this dinner wasn’t just about food or stories—it was about trust. And maybe, just maybe, they were both finding it.
Benson pushed a piece of grilled salmon around his plate, not starving anymore. Across from him, Kyle leaned back in his chair, sipping his Coke like he was trying to buy time before asking something big.
“So,” Kyle said, setting the glass down, “after we drop the presents in California…are you heading back to Michigan?” Kyle’s voice cracked, tearing up.
Benson looked up, fork paused mid-air. There it was. The question he’d been dodging in his own head for days. He gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. “I don’t know what will happen then. I mean….that’s my home.”
Kyle nodded slowly, eyes scanning Benson’s face as if he was trying to read between the lines. “Oh, I guess it is.”
“Yeah,” Benson said, setting the fork down. “The whole real estate circus. My name’s on the sign, so it’s hard to just…walk away for good, but I’m not sure what I want to do.”
Truth was, it wasn’t just about the business.
It was about legacy. About being part of something bigger than himself.
His dad still called him every morning to talk numbers, and his mom still made him prime rib when he closed a big deal.
Michigan wasn’t just home—it was roots. But then there were so many problems with his brother Logan.
But Kyle? Kyle had that look in his eye. That California glint. He could already see himself in a sunlit studio apartment, living his dream that he was chasing. Benson didn’t want to clip Kyle’s wings, but damn, he didn’t want to watch him fly away either.
“Were you seriously thinking of staying out there?” Benson asked, keeping his tone light, like it was just small talk.
Kyle didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve been thinking about it. Starting fresh. New city, new chances.”
“Do you still want to stay with your cousin?”
Kyle’s silence was heavy with unspoken emotion, his face a mask of upset. What had he done? He didn’t express himself properly or sensitively.
Benson’s stomach tightened. He took a sip of water, trying to wash down the lump forming in his throat.
“I don’t have a cousin. I made him up, like most of my past.”
He knew Kyle’s story was incomplete, but how many more lies were between them?
He wanted to tell Kyle California wasn’t the only place dreams could happen. That Michigan had lakes and quiet mornings and a version of life that could be just as good if not better with the right person beside you.
But he didn’t say any of that. Not yet.
Instead, he leaned back and smiled. “We’ll figure it out. No pressure.”
Kyle smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. We’ve got time.”
“I want you, Kyle, regardless of what decisions need to be made. We’ll work it all out together. But you needed to know where I come from.”
Benson wasn’t so sure. But he’d feel it out. See if Kyle could picture a future that didn’t involve palm trees and Pacific breezes. Maybe, just maybe, he could bring Kyle home.
And if not…well, Benson would have to decide whether home was still Michigan, or wherever Kyle ended up.
They lingered over their fancy chocolate mousse both agreed tasted like heaven. The restaurant had thinned out, with just a few couples left murmuring over wine. Benson watched Kyle scoop the last bite, his brow relaxed, his shoulders less tense than they’d been all week.
Now felt like the moment.
“So,” Benson said, swirling the last of his coffee, “if you did stay in California…what would that look like?”
Kyle glanced up, spoon paused midair. “You mean like, job-wise?”
“Yeah. Job, life, all of it. Just curious.”
Kyle leaned back, eyes drifting toward the window like he could already see the skyline of a city they hadn’t reached yet. “I don’t know. Maybe finish college and dance at night.”
Benson nodded slowly, heart doing that annoying thud thing it did when he was trying to act chill but wasn’t. “Sounds exciting.”
“It is,” Kyle said, then added, “but also kinda terrifying.”
Benson smiled. “That’s how you know it’s real.”
Kyle laughed softly, and Benson felt the warmth of it settle in his chest. He wanted to bottle that sound. Keep it close.
He hesitated, then went for it. “Would you ever think about what it’d be like…if you came back to Michigan with me instead?”
Kyle blinked, caught off guard. “Back?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’ve got roots nearby in New York too. And I’ve got space in Michigan. Hell, I’ve got extra rooms I don’t use. Could turn them into a dance studio or anything you’d want.”
Kyle didn’t answer right away. He looked down at his empty plate, then back at Benson. “Do you really want me there?”
Benson met his eyes. “I would. I know this conversation didn’t start off right, but I want you with me. The reality of where I live hit me, and I know you wanted to live in California.”
There it was. No games, no dodging. Just truth.
Kyle leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I didn’t think you’d want me to go back with you.”
“I want you,” Benson said. “I just…I guess I hoped your dream could include me.”
Kyle didn’t speak for a long moment. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy, sure—but honest.
“I don’t know what I want yet,” Kyle said finally. “But I’m not ruling anything out.”
Benson nodded, trying not to let hope get ahead of reality. “Fair enough.”
Benson paid the bill and stepped out into the cool night air. He shoved his hands in his pockets, walking close enough to Kyle that their shoulders brushed.
He didn’t have answers. Neither did Kyle. But maybe that was okay.
Maybe this was the start of figuring it out—together.