Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Madison
Unfortunately, George’s run-in with Kip causes him to have a panic attack. I have to sit with him for several minutes on the couch, coaxing him to calm down. He seems to retract into himself, and I can’t blame him. Kip will tease George mercilessly about this moving forward, I’m sure.
If only I had stayed hidden in the laundry room.
Once George calms down, we show up at Ralph’s acting like nothing is amiss. A damp towel hangs around my shoulders, the yellow rain poncho I’d worn over in the pouring rain discarded in the mud room.
Everything feels different now, as if a shift has happened in the universe.
Sitting at the kitchen table directly across from Ralph, I watch him fumble with his reading glasses before peering at a stack of papers he’s gathered to show me.
George is busying himself, getting everyone a glass of water. Betty Lou has already gone home for the day. The sweet caretaker left dinner in the oven, the scent of a squash casserole and pork tenderloin filling the house with a comforting aroma.
“There’s gotta be something in here to get your boss disinterested in my land so you can keep your job.” Ralph thumbs through a few sheets of paper. “What about the pond? Do they know about the pond? It’s quite large and deep. Could that be a deal-breaker?”
I shake my head, my damp hair finally drip-free thanks to the towel. “A pond isn’t part of the state’s water resources and can easily be filled in. In the state of Georgia, you can’t have construction or disturbance within seventy-five feet of state water.”
George hands me a glass, our fingers brushing in the exchange. I look up at him and smile, my center clenching as thoughts of our earlier lovemaking come to mind. “Thank you.”
His politeness holds reservation. “You’re welcome.” He turns toward his grandfather. “Here you go, Pop.”
“Thanks. Just set it back from this stack a little bit,” he mumbles, focused on the papers.
I raise the glass to my lips and freeze, the idea hitting me in an instant. I squeal, causing the two men to jerk their heads in unison in my direction.
“Too cold?” Ralph asks.
Careful, I set the glass of water on the table and present it to them with my palms up.
“The underground spring!”
Ralph’s brows lift from above his glasses. “I think you might be onto something.”
George pulls out the chair next to mine and sits. “You can’t build on top of land that has an underground spring?” he asks.
My mind is churning, flabbergasted the land surveyors didn’t report the underground spring in their initial findings. This information is a source of contention for a multi-million dollar land acquisition.
“Hear me out, fellas. In Georgia, building a structure the size of Global Dynamics over an underground spring is generally not recommended due to potential structural issues and legal complications. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this slipped through the cracks.”
I stand, energized by my revelation.
“Go on,” Ralph encourages.
Both men have my undivided attention, the look of absolute hope in their eyes filling me with motivation.
“Why didn’t I think of this before? Springs are considered ‘waters of the state.’” I fling the towel from my shoulders over the back of my empty chair.
“So the spring belongs to the state?” Ralph repeats.
“Yes!” I’m in the zone now and pace with excitement as I explain.
“Underground springs are protected under Georgia state law. If the surveyors had done their due diligence, they would have consulted with a professional engineer, a hydrogeologist, and the local authorities before bringing this piece of land to Global for consideration. All kinds of compliance and regulations come with building on or near a spring. There are environmental issues, and they’d have to adhere to the National Environmental Policy Act.
Global Dynamics doesn’t want to do that. ”
My heart races with gladness, knowing I’ve just figured out a way to save the farm and my job.
Ralph slowly rises from his chair. He looks frail and tired. “So what do we need to do now?”
George stands and adds, “Just tell us. We’ll do anything.”
I nod and quickly shuffle the papers back into the file Ralph has been sifting through. “Y’all don’t need to do anything. I can handle things from here.” I pause and lick my lips, unsure how George will respond when I say, “I need to go.”
“Right now?” he stammers.
I press my lips into a thin line and nod. “Yes. The sooner I get this information to my boss, the quicker this will all be over.”
“Can’t you just call him?” Ralph asks.
“No. It’s better if I do this in person.” I shove the files into my tote. “George, can you take this and meet me at my car out front?”
“Umm, sure.” He effortlessly slides the heavy strap over his shoulder and exits the kitchen, the hinges on the screen squeaking before the door closes with a loud thwack.
I approach Ralph and look him square in the eye. “I’ll only be gone for a few days,” I reassure. “And then I’m coming back so we can discuss George and his future here on the farm.”
Mr. Jamison’s eyes appear hooded with concern. “Yes. I suppose we need to do that sooner rather than later.”
I hug him, and his scratchy voice is soft against my ear. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I pull back and grin, relieved to have found a solution. “I’ll see you soon.”
Once outside, I notice George standing next to my car with his back toward me. My bag hangs off his broad shoulder, and a slight breeze tousles his hair. His gaze is directed at the horizon where a few dark clouds remain in the distance.
“Hey,” I greet, trying not to startle him.
He turns around and offers me a sincere smile, his cerulean eyes filling with emotion.
“I’ll be back soon.”
“I hope so.” He looks forlornly at the ground. “I’m so sorry about today. I feel like I let you down again. I’m a complete idiot.”
Placing my fingers under his chin, I lift his face and look right at him. “You’re not an idiot. You are amazing.”
My comment seems to appease him, and I wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. We stay like that for over a minute, neither one of us budging.
“Good luck,” he mutters.
“I don’t need any luck,” I giggle, pulling back from him. “I’m working up a plan for my boss so both parties are happy. A plan to scout the area further east, closer to Savannah, for the Global Dynamics expansion. If he approves my plan, you’ll get mighty sick of me.”
“Oh yeah?” He presses his top teeth into his lower lip to suppress a happy smile. “Madison, I don’t think I could ever get sick of you.”
“Good answer.”
I stand on my tippy toes and boldly kiss him on the lips, my hands tangling in his dark hair. And I don’t care if Kip or anyone else on the farm sees us. I’m pumped and anxious to get this deal behind me. Anxious to move forward and help Ralph set up a plan for George to succeed.
“Mmmm… Madison,” he moans, kissing me deeply.
When we finally pull apart, we’re quiet for a moment, studying our fingers laced together between us. I’m grateful for George. I’ve learned more from him in the short time we’ve been together than from anyone else.
I don’t view his autism as a disorder. I view it as a gift.
There is something incredible about the way he sees the world and the way he sees me. His profound, deep sense of clarity and honesty has taught me a lot in the last week. And I know I’m undoubtedly ready to slow down and search within myself for what I need. For what I want.
I’m pretty sure I want George. But I know I need to move forward carefully and with the best of intentions.
“I’ll miss you,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb softly against my cheek.
“I’ll miss you too. I’ll call you. And you can text me anytime, okay?”
His lips lift on one side of his face into a half smile. “Okay. But you should know I’m not very good at texting.”
“I’ll be the instigator,” I assure.
George opens the car door for me, and I get in. I start the engine and roll down the window. “It’s all gonna work out. You’ll see.”
He nods and bends low to kiss me a final time. “See you later. Love you.” He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Oops.”
I laugh and palm my heart, remembering his grandmother’s advice:
One mustn’t ever forget their I love yous.
I drive away and watch him through the rearview mirror, waving like a little kid.
It’s exactly like the first day we met when I stopped at his produce stand, one hand on his hip, the other signaling goodbye with broad strokes through the air.
Only this time, his smile isn’t overzealous.
It’s melancholy as if he doesn’t believe he will ever see me again.
“Sweet George. I’ll be back, I promise.” As I turn onto Paradise Road, my whispered vow hangs heavy in the car’s interior. I know my actions reinforce trust, something I owe George moving forward.
And now, I understand without a doubt that paradise isn’t some unreachable dream or unattainable goal.
Paradise is a bold left turn, straight into a farmer’s heart.
But little do I know it will be months before I make it back to the farm. Back to the blissful utopia, where the scent of sweet lavender hangs heavy in the air. The place where a handsome flower farmer’s kisses have made an indelible impression on me, his quiet warmth giving me peace.
If only I could’ve kept my word.