Page 18 of Best Kept Vows

Before I could formulate words to ask more questions, since Lia had never told me she saw my father so often, I heard my father’s slurred voice call out, “Sebastian?”

I went to his bedroom, following his voice.

“Hello, Dad,” I greeted him quietly.

My father, the great Abraham Boone—once Savannah’s industrial king—sat slumped in his wheelchair, a half-empty gaze drifting toward the window. The stroke had taken more than his physical strength; it had stolen his voice and muchof his dignity, though his mind remained sharp and frustrated.

He grunted in acknowledgment, turning his head slightly to glare at me with a familiar impatience. He couldn’t speak properly anymore, his left side entirely paralyzed. Yet behind those narrowed eyes, I still saw the same man who’d judged me harshly my entire life.

“How…is the…company?” he asked, the words coming out slowly, slightly slurred.

“It’s good, Dad,” I lied. “We closed the Xanthi deal.”

He gave me a half smile. “Good….good.” He then took a deep breath and exhaled, his eyes drooping. “Bry…ce?”

I put my hand on my father’s. “He’s doing fine.”

Dad cackled. “Too…dumb to.”

I chuckled. Dad never liked my sister’s husband, and who could blame him? But he gave him a job so he could care for Coco.

“Lia….” He struggled to speak. “She…M…B…A.”

“Yeah, Dad, she got an MBA. She was top of her class.”And I missed her graduation ceremony.

His whole body bobbed in acknowledgment. “She…is…good.” He closed his eyes and then opened them again. “She is…right for you.”

For a man who had nothing but complaints about Lia, he had certainly changed his tune. We talked for a while, and then he lifted his hand and motioned to Hendrix.

“I think your father’s tired,” Hendrix said gently.

“Goodnight, Dad.”

“Night,” my father mumbled.

“I’ll get him into bed,” Hendrix told me.

I looked at my watch. “Ah…I’d like to talk to you after you’re done.”

It took Hendrix a half hour, during which time I went through urgent emails on my phone. We’d just lost another customer due to delays, and that would hit us hard next quarter. Every time I thought we moved forward, something would take us three steps back.

Hendrix sat across from me in a chair. “He’s sleeping.”

I hesitated before asking quietly, “How’s he doing…you know,overall?”

Hendrix contemplated my question before answering. “He’s stable physically. But recovery is difficult without strong family support.”

I raised my eyebrows in query.

“Your mother is busy, not around as much as your dad might need.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “And if she were, trust me, he’d be in worse shape. There is literally no love lost between them.”

Hendrix’s expression turned sympathetic. “Your sister visits on Sundays for like five minutes, and that hurts him. He tells me she used to be Daddy’s little girl.”

I gave the slightest shake of my head. “Coco can’t take care of anyone…that’s not who she is.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not around enough, either.”