Page 23 of Finding Parker

I didn’t express my sexual desires to my grandmother, but I didn’t have to. One evening, while eating dinner, she began a conversation about life. Initially, I wasn’t uncomfortable, but as always with my grandmother, where the conversation began and where it ended were two totally different subjects. She had a very effective manner of introducing a topic she wished to discuss.

“If you were able to turn back the clock and change one thing about your life, any one thing, what do you think you’d chose, Parker?” she asked as she pierced another piece of pot roast with her fork.

As she began to chew her food and wait for my response, I thought about her question. The first thing that came to mind was to live a life with my mother and father. Reluctant to blurt out my initial thought, I considered my answer, making certain there was nothing else I wanted to say.

“I would want to have my mother and father in my life,” I responded.

“I imagined that’d be your response. And why do you imagine you chose that for your answer?” she asked between bites.

I scrunched my brow. Her reasoning behind asking such a question wasn’t quite clear to me. As always with my grandmother, she formulated her questions to elicit thought. I lowered my fork to my plate and considered what life would be like with my parents in it. After a long moment, I responded.

“So we could be together – a family; mother, father, and son. I like it here, and you’re like a mother to me, but,” I paused, trying to thoughtfully decide what it was I wanted to say.

“You don’t need to say any more, Parker. I understand. Every parentless child wants to have what so many take for granted; to have a conventional family. It’s quite natural. Now, let me ask you another question,” she placed her fork onto the edge of her plate and cupped her hands together.

“Have you and Jessica discussed having sex?” she raised both eyebrows slightly and inhaled a shallow breath.

If I had food in my mouth at the time, I am quite sure I would have spit it out. The question, even from my outspoken grandmother, shocked me. Uneasy and somewhat uncomfortable answering, I began to shift my weight in the seat of my chair.

I crossed my legs.

I crossed my arms.

But I knew I had no other choice other than responding truthfully. My grandmother had one rule regarding responding to her questions; always respond truthfully. She advised me from a very early age to always tell the truth. If I told her a lie, there would be hell to pay. If I told her the truth, regardless of what it may be, we could always figure out a way to get through it. Considering all things, I kept my response truthful and quite brief.

“Yes.”

“Well,” she paused and glanced toward the china cabinet.

“I want you to consider a few things. Regardless of the birth control used, none are one hundred percent effective. So, there’s always a chance of pregnancy being the result of a sexual encounter. Considering the chance exists, ask yourself this, Parker. For a little bit of pleasure, are you willing to take the risk of Jessica becoming pregnant? Because if you’re not able to spend the remaining days of your life with Jessica raising your child, there will be another son or daughter in this world feeling the way you feel right now about your parents. Alone and without,” she looked down and into my eyes as she spoke.

I continued to squirm in my chair uncomfortably and listen to what she had to say. At that particular moment it wasn’t what I was hoping to hear, so sitting still and listening intently wasn’t high on my list of current priorities.

“So, if you’re not ready to become a parent – if you’re not certain that she’s the one, my recommendation would be to wait – because there’s always that one chance. And after it happens, undoing it isn’t really an option. So Parker,” she paused in mid-sentence as I fidgeted in my chair.

As she sat and waited for me to make eye contact with her, I stopped squirming.

“My recommendation is to only have sex with a woman if you’re comfortable she’s the woman you’ll be with forever. If you truly believe in your heart of hearts you can happily be with her forever, and you’re comfortable she feels the same about you, go right ahead. If not, think about that child growing up without a family. That’s the only advice I have about sex, Parker. Now eat your roast before it gets cold,” she said as she picked her fork from her plate.

Jessica and I didn’t last much longer. The thought of her becoming pregnant and my becoming an irresponsible and incapable teen father filled me. Ultimately, I knew I was in charge of my sexual advancements, but nonetheless, the thought of screaming infants and irresponsible parents became common. My relationship with Jessica was short lived, and to date remains my only relationship with any female with a love interest. I lived in constant fear of a child being brought up in a single parent home – the product of two irresponsible teens.

As I grew older, the same types of thoughts prevented me from being in any form of meaningful relationship with a woman. I had countless friendships with women, but sooner or later they always wanted more. For me, more meant a screaming infant and a failed relationship – a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

As an adult, we stand as an extension of the beliefs, principles, and moral fiber of those who played an active participant in our upbringing. I’ll be forever grateful for my grandmother being who she was, and believing in what she believed in with such vigor. Her beliefs, over time, became mine.

I miss her more than she’ll ever know.

PARKER. “Mr. Ward is out for the morning. How is your day, Mr. Bale?” Downes asked as I walked toward the steps.

I paused in mid-stride, frustrated at the fact that Kenton was gone. I hadn’t slept much the previous night, and was already quite frustrated. Kenton’s absence wasn’t helping matters much. I really felt a desire to talk to someone.

Downes stood on the edge of the steps in black linen pants and a short sleeved linen shirt. The shirt was a silvery-blue color, and although it fit loosely, it didn’t come close to disguising his rather muscular physique. I stood, wondering if he intended for people to be intimidated by him.

“So far, great. Thank you,” I fibbed.

“So, if I may, is your first or last name Downes?” I asked as I slowly approached the base of the steps.

“Let’s walk to the back deck, Mr. Bale. We can talk over a glass of tea. Please,” he motioned toward the front door as he spoke.