Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Kendall
I drove us back to Francis’s house, and he offered to take Shay inside, as he knew I needed to do my evening check of the crew.
I dropped them in front of his house, assuring him I’d be right back.
I parked in my driveway and sat there for a moment, just collecting my thoughts that had been blown apart by the scene at the table.
Boom, indeed.
It was hard to know how delicately to handle the situation with Shay.
In my limited parenting experience, I knew that it was my job to be supportive but firm, understanding with boundaries in place.
I read the parenting books when the kids were little.
I did the best I could. But my absence, Susan’s frustration, it all impacted the kids.
When we separated, Shay was fifteen and at the tail end of the puberty journey.
The people I trusted with our situation said I needed to be patient, attentive, and clear that the issues were between Susan and me, that Shay and Tyson were still my babies.
Tyson kept that shit locked up tight. Kinda like me.
He smiled and went along, living his life as a teenager.
Probably partying too hard. Definitely having more sex than I did at his age.
We bickered, but he was respectful, especially to Susan.
The kids lived with her during those three years we were separated and visited me whenever I had a break in shifts, or I’d come over to Susan’s and bring dinner.
Shay needed more support when Tyson joined the Navy—something else that was my fault, apparently—and again when Dad moved in with me.
Then Tyson was gone.
Shay fell apart. She’d felt like he was the only one who understood what she was going through, that we couldn’t possibly, and she was so full of rage.
Counseling eventually helped, and antidepressants helped her function, but his death knocked her for a loop.
Understandably. It did for all of us, but I had so much on my plate, I hadn’t been able to sit in my grief and marinate in it like she and Susan did.
Then Susan filed for divorce, and I was alone.
I thought about calling Susan, but I figured that if Shay wanted to handle things on her own, I’d deal directly with her. She was old enough that I didn’t need to discuss parenting decisions with her mother any longer.
Shay had expressed interest in moving to California multiple times. How would that be? Could we live together, have our own lives, or would she become the next person I had to take care of?
I’d do it. She was my daughter. But I would be doing her a disservice if I didn’t treat her like an adult, a capable one who could handle a job and her business.
I ran scenarios through my head while I fed my crew and checked everyone’s enclosures.
The tortoises all needed fresh water, so that took a while.
By the time I started up the walk to Francis’s place, I was resolute in my decision to have a frank discussion with Shay, to outline my expectations for her stay.
I girded my loins as I opened the slider—
And found my people laughing and singing over empty bowls of ice cream.
Leave it to Francis to make everything better.
“Did you save me any ice cream?” I opened my arms to hug Shay, and she squeezed me tight.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to come here and dump all my problems on you.”
“Well, you didn’t dump them on me. You let me know what’s going on, and I’m happy to discuss options with you. I can’t fix it all, nor do I think you want me to, but I’m ready to talk about it with you whenever you’re ready.”
She tilted her chin up and gazed at me with those familiar blue eyes. I struggled to ever say no to her, especially after we lost Tyson. The Warren genes were strong in my kids.
Francis slid a bowl of chocolate ice cream my way, and I grinned at him.
“How did you know?”
“Remember our night of silly trivia? I was paying attention.” He winked at me and took the used bowls to the sink to wash them.
“So Francis? How does your business work? You said this place is an artists’ retreat?”
“Yes, and event space. It’s still a work in progress, but so far, I’ve hosted a dance social, a romance authors’ writer retreat, I have a guest right now who’s doing a private retreat, and I’ve got my first paint-and-sip class scheduled this week.
I’ve got a wedding booked in two months that, phew, I need to follow up.
They’ve already sent me a shit-ton of emails. ”
“What’s the dance social?”
“Oh, I have a teacher who gives a quick partner dancing lesson, then the guests dance for the next couple hours. It’s basically a big party. The next one is this week. You should come!”
Shay looked at me for… what? Approval? Permission? Attending an event at Francis’s house would comingle our personal lives in an interesting way. I found I didn’t dislike the idea. She was an adult; it made sense.
“I think Dad and I have a lot to talk about,” she finally said, standing from the chair. “And I think I need to do some journaling and get some sleep. I’m sorry I brought down the evening.”
“You did no such thing,” Francis said, smiling at her. “Get some rest. Happy to talk more about the whole existential crisis extravaganza.”
I hugged her tight as she thanked Francis.
“Anytime,” he said.
I let her go and went to Francis’s side.
“I’m going to take her home,” I said, as I bent to kiss his cheek. “I’ll miss you,” I whispered in his ear.
“I’ll text you.” His expression worried me, though. There were cracks in confident, saucy Francisville.
“Okay.”
He patted my back and followed us to the slider.
“Happy to make breakfast tomorrow, if you two are up for it?”
“Thank you,” Shay said. She glanced at Francis and then turned with a wave to walk down the path.
“Thanks, baby,” I said, kissing Francis once more. “I’m sorry.”
“Go, darling. See you tomorrow.”
I hated walking away, but I had to have hope that Francis would continue to understand.
“Are you guys at the staying-at-each-other’s-houses phase yet? Because if so, you don’t have to babysit me.”
“We are, and I’m not babysitting you. We have things to talk about. I’m happy you’re here. I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
We walked back with our arms around each other, and I felt her let out a big sigh.
“He’s really cute. And funny. I never in a million years would have pictured you with a guy like him, but I like it.”
“I know. I don’t know what he’s doing with me, either.”
She smacked my stomach, and I grunted.
“Dad. You always act like you’re not a catch, but you’re such a catch. I think Francis thinks so, too.”
“Well, that would be good.”
We got back to the house, and she assured me she wanted to go to her room and journal. “I’d love it if we could talk tomorrow, you know, about what I should do.”
“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll put this offer on the table, and you can think about it.
I’ve got the mobile home on the property.
It’s functional and relatively clean. If you want to stay in California, you can live in it.
I can point you in the direction of a job, and you can stay there for the time being.
You can go to school or not. I’m not going to be a hypocrite and say it’s college or nothing, since I chose not to go.
You’ll need to cover your food, transportation, and other expenses, though I’ll help you until you’ve gotten your first couple of paychecks.
“That’s what I’ll offer. I love you, and I’d love for us to have the time together, but your mom’s right in one sense. You do need to spend some time figuring out what you want, and that won’t work if you’re living with either one of us and we’re financially supporting you. Okay?”
“Thanks, Dad. That’s a very generous offer. I’m sorry if I disappointed you by quitting—”
“You didn’t disappoint me. I want you to be happy, kiddo, and if what you were doing wasn’t it, then I support your decision. You just have to do something, all right? You’ve always been a hard worker, so I know you’ll find work. It doesn’t have to be a forever thing, you know?”
“I know. And I appreciate your offer to stay and take this time to figure things out. My life in Florida was full of drama, with my roommates, with the jerks I went to school with… I don’t know if it’s school, period, or just that school and program.”
“People can be close-minded there, for sure. There are some folks like that here, but for the most part, this town is full of very kind and generous people. I’m really happy here.”
She grinned. “That’s good, Dad. All right. I’m going to bed. I love you.”
I kissed the top of her head and waved to her as she went down the opposite hallway.
As soon as she shut the door, I felt the weight from the evening crushing me. My phone had buzzed in my pocket a couple of times, so I pulled it out.
Francis had texted me four times, and they looked long.
Hot Pants Boyfriend: Shay just went to bed. I haven’t read your texts yet. Can I call?
Saucy Boyfriend FaceTimed me a few seconds later.
“Hey, baby. I’m so sorry—”
“You surprised me tonight.”
There was no smile, no flirty smirk. His face was blank.
“Is that a bad thing?”
He shook his head. “No. You just made me think. You handled Shay’s situation so… You were so kind to her. So understanding. I gotta admit, I expected you would blow up. I got a little sick to my stomach, afraid that I was going to witness an ugly fight.”
I opened the door and stepped outside. I didn’t want Shay to overhear, especially because I couldn’t read Francis’s mood over the phone.
“Why would you think that? I’m not a blow up kinda guy, especially not with my kids. At least I never considered myself that. Why? Have I made you think I would be?”
He shook his head. “No, my love, not at all. But I hadn’t seen you as Kendall the Father yet. I guess it brought up some stuff for me.”
His dad. I started to apologize, but he held up a hand and took a deep breath.
“I hope she knows how lucky she is and that Tyson knew.”