Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Madison
There’s a lull in our conversation at the café, and I wonder if Ralph is just being a big tease. When he finishes his plate, he leans back from the table and swipes his mouth with his napkin a final time.
“George is my only kin. He’s my grandson and sole heir to the farm.”
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“I see.” I push my half-eaten entree to the side. “What happened to his parents?”
He gulps some tea before he speaks, his voice lowered among the evening chatter of other patrons in the café as if someone might overhear our conversation.
“My daughter, Meredith, died giving birth to him thirty-five years ago. Her death shattered my son-in-law, Tyler. We were all distraught, which was to be expected. It was a devastating time in all of our lives.” He pauses, his eyes glazing over with grief, as if the event happened recently, not over thirty years ago.
I am stunned by this heartbreaking news, unsure if I need to know all of this.
“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 fingers together 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.”
“Hand it over,” he replies.
Taking the folded piece of pink paper from my front jeans pocket, I slide it across the table between us. I watch him pick it up and tuck it into the breast pocket of his shirt, not even bothering to look at it.
“I’ll hang onto this for a bit if you don’t mind. Before I take a look-see, I’d like to ask you for a small favor.”
“A favor?”
“Yes.” He leans his elbows on the table and tents his fingers together, his eyes narrowing and focusing on my face.
I stare back at him, my heart hammering in my chest. Wasn’t he anxious to read what I’d written on the paper? A quick glance? A peek? How could he show so much restraint by not looking at it immediately?
I want to blurt out what I’d written but hold back, profoundly curious about this favor he has in mind.
“I’d like for you to hang out in Heartsboro for a while.
Get to know the community and my farm. You know, become familiar with the ins and outs of our day-to-day business.
The townspeople we work with. The lay of the land.
I need you to dig deep and see for yourself why this place is so special.
I think you’ll learn pretty quickly that it’s worth a whole heck of a lot more than you or your big company might think. ” He pats his breast pocket.
“Okay?” I’m confused but hopeful I can honor Ralph’s request.
“There was only one other time I thought about selling. It was back in the crash of 2008. I asked Rosie if she wanted to sell everything and travel. You know, see the world? Do you know what she said to me?”
I shake my head, enthralled by his obvious adoration for his late wife. The way his tired eyes light up and half of his mouth turns into a lopsided smile. The way his voice scratches with longing, his whispered words a testament to his love.
“She said, ‘I don’t need to travel, Ralph. The world comes right to my window every single day.’”
My heart cracks wide open, the warmth of Rosie’s words oddly comforting. It’s as if she’s right here with us in the café, her presence reminding Ralph and I that everything will be okay.
“How beautiful.”
I knew right then I’d do just about anything for the dying man.
“I want you to get to know the farm, Madison. And I have one more request, if you don’t mind.”
I tilt my head. “You name it.”
He leans back in his chair, his words steady and filled with purpose.
“I’d like for you to get to know the heart and soul of Jamison Farm. I’d like for you to spend some quality time with my grandson, George.”