“I’ll be back,” I tell him.
In the drink cabinet in the formal dining room, I get a bottle of whiskey, ice cubes, and two glasses. I carry them to the living room and pour both of us a drink. Kyle takes his gratefully and drains it in one gulp.
I pour him another one.
“I’m an adult. Such news should not affect me,” he says. “But it does. I feel as if the rug has been pulled from under my feet. Or like a boat at sea with no compass for navigation.”
“Our parents give us our sense of identity,” I tell him softly.
“The moment she said it, though, it made sense. So much fell into place. I sensed that my father didn’t like me, let alone love me, and I couldn’t figure out why. I provided them with a lifestyle that made them the envy of all their friends. They took vacations whenever they wanted.”
The anguish in his voice wants me to hold him again, but I know that he needs to talk. It’s painful to listen to, but it’s not about me now. He needs me, and I have to be strong for him.
“Does it help to know that you did your best and treated him the way a son would and should?” I ask him.
“I guess so. I’m glad I never found out when he was alive. I don’t think I can mourn for him. I have absolutely no good memories of him.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” I feel so helpless.
“It’s fine. I’m glad the mystery has been solved, albeit too late,” Kyle says.
“It’s not too late. Your biological father is still alive,” I point out to him.
A stricken look comes over his features. I know what the problem is. That is one problem that I’m very familiar with. A fear of rejection.
“My mother should have been the one to tell him.”
“But she didn’t, and now, because you know the truth, you should tell him.” I can tell from the look on Kyle’s face what the answer will be.
“I think my years of needing a father are gone. I don’t need him, and I doubt that Adrian Martin needs his life upset by learning that he has an adult son.”
“I wonder if he ever got married?” I say, trying to search my memory bank.
“I don’t think so. Last I heard, he was happily retired in some ranch in Southern California.”
I don’t voice my thoughts, but I think any man would be happy to learn they sired a son. Even if not, he deserves to know and have the opportunity to choose whether he wants to get to know him or not.
***
I tag along with Kyle in the next few days as he helps his mother make a myriad of decisions about the funeral. The funeral director is a wonderful woman named Elizabeth, and she makes the process as smooth as she can.
“Do you think your father would like it if we sang a few hymns?” Kyle’s mother asks him and stares at her blankly.
It turns out that neither of them knows whether he likes hymns, and so they settle for two of them. I never knew what a nightmare it is when someone dies. You have to choose a casket, readings for the service, flowers, and a myriad of other things.
I admire Kyle because he could easily have sent his PA to do it, but he chose to be there personally to support his mother. I try my best but seeing as I did not know the man, I can’t really offer much input apart from just being present.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Bryce,” I tell her while hugging her when she breaks down for the third time that day.
When she stops crying, she looks at me as if noticing me for the first time. “You’re a wonderful girl. Please call me Lilly; after all, I’m going to be your mother-in-law soon.”
My face heats up at her bluntness. Thankfully, the funeral director asks something else, and that moment passes.
After we are done, Kyle’s mother is tired and distraught, and she just wants to go home. Ethan drives her home first. She’s sitting in the front passenger seat, and before she gets out of the car, she turns back to address Kyle.
“I forgot to tell you. Adrian called me last night to convey his condolences. I thought it was a sweet gesture.”
Silence follows her declaration.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says and gets out of the car.
Kyle’s breathing changes. We are both shellshocked at Lilly’s casual announcement. I glance at Kyle, but his facial expression is unreadable. I feel a headache coming on, and it’s not even my decision to make.
At home, we both head to the shower, and in an unspoken agreement, we get into the shower together. We stand under the jets of warm water, holding each other tightly without speaking. Then Kyle cups my face and kisses me as if he’s almost drowning and I’m the plank of wood that is keeping him afloat.