Page 11 of Finding Parker

He was dressed in khaki shorts, a Polo style shirt, and golf shoes. The shoes made an audible clacking noise as he walked across the wooden floor toward the window.

“I have golfed, but I am far from a golfer. I do enjoy the sport,” I responded.

“I don’t know what type of that jam is, but it’s damned tasty,” he said as he licked the tips of his fingers.

“Downes, bring me another sandwich, would you?” he spoke in the direction Downes had walked from the room.

“Now, let’s sit. Tell me about your day,” he said as he turned and walked into the furnished portion of the room.

I studied the furniture, not sure of where to sit.

“Sit wherever you like, Parker. In time, you’ll find I’m not the type of person you believe me to be. I’m wealthy, but I’m not a wealthy prick. Sit, please,” he motioned toward the open room as he spoke.

“It’s not so much you. I think it’s being here. It’s rather intimidating,” I admitted as I walked around the arm of one of the chairs and sat down.

Viewing the home from outside, it was apparent the center section was two stories tall. I assumed the two stories were two stories of living area – two separate floors. Once inside, it was obvious the center of the home was one very, very tall living area. I looked up at the ceiling, which appeared to be thirty feet over my head. As I lowered my head, I looked out once again at the ocean in front of me.

“I can see how it might be. Let me tell you a little about me,” Kenton said as he lowered himself into an overstuffed burgundy velvet chair.

He looked around the room as if everything in it was new to him. Slowly, he took every viewable inch of the home into his path of sight. As Downes entered the room with food and beverages, Kenton sighed lightly and nodded in his direction. After leaving the tray containing the food onto a large coffee table positioned between Kenton and me, Downes quietly exited the room.

“My wealth. I didn’t deserve it. Hell, I don’t deserve it now, but I have it. I suspect because I have lived on the other side of the wealthy, and have earned all of what is before you, it allows me to keep myself in check. I don’t take my wealth, life, or people for granted,” he hesitated and reached for one of the glasses of water.

“At least not now. I appreciate all of what I have and what people offer me from my exposure to them. Don’t get me wrong,” he paused and turned to face me.

“I enjoy this,” he motioned in my direction and opened his arms toward the room.

“I graduated college and worked in architecture for about ten years. I lived below my means, but appeared - at least on the surface - to be wealthy. I drove a ten year old luxury car, but I kept it spotless. I leased a condo in Old Town. I dressed well. People assumed I had money. I allowed them to assume what they assumed, and I used it to my advantage. I manipulated women, had sex with anyone who would allow me to, and never once fell in love. My love, I can easily admit now, was money. My only concern, Parker, was how people perceived me,” he shook his head lightly and took a drink from his glass.

“Their perception, albeit an inaccurate one, allowed me to become a horrible person. I cared about nothing and no one but myself. Well, myself and money. I appeared wealthy, worked like a slave, and saved every penny I could. At around that ten year mark, I got an investment tip from a friend on a particular stock. What is now Sirius XM Radio,” he stood from his chair, walked toward the windowed wall, and gazed out at the ocean.

“It was 1997. I invested everything I had saved based on this tip. The tip proved to be an accurate one, and through investing, reinvesting, and having the stock split multiple times, I made tens of millions. The money I earned allowed me to make additional investments, and in turn, more money. The money, at least initially, allowed me to become a monster,” he said over his shoulder as he continued to peer through the glass.

“I continued to be concerned with nothing and no one but money and myself. The money became a means. I was now able to be the person people had always perceived me to be. I picked women up in clubs, lied to them, wined them, dined them, and had sex with them. I’d immediately move on to another and start over. It was as if I was in some type of contest with myself, and my measure of my success had become fucking various women,” he paused, still staring out the window, and took a shallow breath.

“So, one day not too many years ago, Downes and I were eating in a restaurant. It was right after he returned from Afghanistan and went to work for me, 2005 I believe. The woman sitting beside us in the restaurant was alone and attractive, so naturally we began to talk. Through the course of talking I learned she had been a victim of sorts,” he placed his hands on his hips, hesitated and looked upward.

“One night in a bar in Mission Hills, she met a man. One thing led to another, and they ended up at her place. She said he convinced her he had tremendous interest in her as a person and a potential mate. Destiny, he told her. Soul mates or some other ridiculous shit, I don’t recall. At any rate, that night, they had sex. Her efforts to contact the man after that first night were unsuccessful, he provided her with a fake phone number. Imagine that.”

“A month later, she missed her period. A pregnancy test revealed what she already feared. Nine months passed, she gave birth to a daughter, and now raises the girl alone. Some might say her life was ruined. Others, I suppose, could look at it as a blessing or a gift. It didn’t settle well with me. She is raising a child who will never know her father. She’ll never have a family in a conventional sense. The child becomes the victim, and for what reason?” he turned from the window, walked toward the burgundy chair, and sat down.

I sat quietly and listened as Kenton Ward began to become human.

“Her story wasn’t awful, and it certainly wasn’t all too devastating. I had no ties to her or her daughter and I’ve heard far more saddening stories many times. But Parker, for whatever reason, her story was what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it. Here we had a woman who had fallen for a man who wasn’t necessarily truthful with her. As a result, she had been forced to raise her daughter alone. At that particular moment, as we sat in the restaurant, I thought about her misfortune. And something within me changed. A spiritual awakening, hell I don’t know. Something,” he turned toward me and smiled as he placed his empty glass onto the coffee table.

“Have a sandwich before the bread hardens. I’m almost finished,” he said as he reached for one of the plates.

I reached for the remaining plate, placed it on my lap, and lifted the sandwich to my mouth.

“Wow. This is amazing,” I said after I swallowed my first bite of the sandwich.

“I think it’s the jam. Karen is quite a cook. She’s young and struggles with maintaining a diverse menu, but she can cook like no other,” he chuckled as he took a bite of the sandwich

“At any rate, on that day, for whatever reason, something within me changed. I attempted to make amends with everyone I harmed in my wake of being me. In doing so, I learned a lot about myself, Parker. Not all of which, I might add, was good. The end result, you might ask? I haven’t been with a woman since. It’s been almost ten years, I guess. I had told myself I’d forfeit all of this, everything…” he paused, motioned around the room, and took another bite of his sandwich.

“My belongings, wealth, as well as myself to the woman I love and only if I truly loved her. I just had to find her or allow her to find me. In that regard, I’ve tossed my respective hands in the air. For me, the search is over. In recent years, I’ve decided to live my life in a manner I believe to be kind, considerate, and caring. Along the way, I’ve selected a few people to befriend, help, or guide, if you will. You, Parker, are one of those people,” he placed the uneaten portion of his sandwich on the plate and stood from his chair again.

“Parker, life is like a Texas Hold ‘em Tournament. The poker tournament, have you seen them?” he turned to face me, waiting for some form of acknowledgement.