Finding Parker

by Scott Hildreth

  “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.

  I followed up the steps, down the corridor of the home, and through the French doors onto the deck. Downes, as always, walked quietly, and methodically. He seemed to be the type of person that spoke only if necessary, and probably never for the sake of speaking alone. As he sat at the table where Katelyn and Kenton and I sat only a few nights before, I realized a pitcher of tea and two glasses were already positioned on the table.

  “It’s raspberry, and I must say it rivals the peach. Oh, and for what it’s worth, your eyebrows are repairing nicely. The other night it appeared you had four of them,” he hesitated as he held the pitcher suspended over the table.

  I nodded my head and smiled as I brushed my index fingers along my brow. As he poured me a glass of tea, he grinned. His teeth were perfectly shaped and defined the color white. Probably veneers. No one has teeth quite that perfect.

  “Sometimes I get carried away plucking them. I’m surprised you noticed,” I sighed as I lowered my hands nervously to my lap.

  “I notice everything. It’s my job,” he grinned and inhaled a short breath.

  “My mother’s maiden name was Downes. She chose to name me Downes, using her maiden name for my first name. So, Downes Tallert was born,” he said, continuing to smile the entire time.

  “I see. It’s an unusual first name, I like it. And your last name. It’s unusual as well, but it sounds familiar, I just can’t seem to place it,” I said as I raised the tea glass to my lips.

  “I’ve grown to like my first name. I never much cared for it as a kid, but it’s perfect for me as an adult. So, how’s the search coming along?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?” I responded.

  The question didn’t make much sense when he asked it. After I responded, I realized he was probably asking about my quest for women. Feeling fractionally uneasy regarding the situation with Katelyn, I rolled my eyes.

  “Alright I suppose,” I said as I wiped the condensation from my glass of tea.

  “It’s certainly an interesting job description. Mr. Ward spent countless hours drafting the contract. It’s interesting at minimum,” he said as he lifted his glass.

  It dawned on me as he spoke that I had never actually took time to read the entire contract. At the attorney’s office, I had merely signed the agreement based on Kenton’s statement of the conditions of the contract, I had not read it. Eventually, after taking a copy home, I flipped through it, but
didn’t read it.

  “You’ll probably think I’m crazy, but I’ve never actually read it,” I chuckled.

  “Oh really? I assisted Mr. Ward in drafting it, so I’m quite intimate with the contents. It’s a simple contract, but you should read it; you’re bound to the conditions of it, you know,” he pushed himself away from the table and slumped slightly into his chair.

  “I suppose I will read it eventually. Right now it doesn’t really seem to matter,” I continued to slide my finger along the glass and wipe the beads of condensation from the surface as I spoke.

  “Is something troubling you, Mr. Bale?”

  Surprised that he asked, I wondered if there were telltale signs which caused him to ask the question. Although there was nothing I could pin point, I had both began the day and continued through the morning feeling somewhat off. Not knowing why or what caused me to feel the way I was feeling, I wanted to talk to Kenton.

  For whatever reason, Kenton provided me with a level of comfort I wasn’t able to attain elsewhere. Maybe his absence was making me even more uneasy and Downes could sense it. I looked up from my water droplet fascination and focused on the horizon.

  “I’m not sure, but I just woke up feeling strange,” I responded as I stared over the putting green and out at the ocean.

  “Physically ill, or mentally off balance?” Downes asked as he crossed his legs.

  Although I had never been to a psychologist or psychiatrist, I felt as if Downes was acting the part. His voice, as always, was quite soft and monotone. There was a certain comfort I felt from his presence as well. His physical presence, military-esque haircut, and the fact that Kenton revealed his activity in the war, however, made me somewhat hesitant to warm up to him.

  “Mentally, I suppose,” I responded as I realized condensation had once again formed on my glass.

  “I see. What’s changed in the last few days?” he asked as he raised his hands to his chest and rubbed his palms together.

  As he rubbed his palms together, his forearms flexed. I watched as his muscles flared from just above his wrist to the exposed lower portion of his bicep. Although I had never really given it much thought, it was possible Kenton had chosen Downes as his assistant for many reasons, a body guard being one of them.

  “Not too much, I don’t guess. I told Katelyn I wasn’t interested in proceeding. She didn’t take it well, called me a douche,” I grinned, wiping my curved finger along the edge of the glass.

  “You surely hadn’t developed an attraction to Katelyn yet, so would I doubt you’re feeling uneasy because of that alone. Have you had any reflections or thoughts of your past that might be troubling you?” he asked.

  What would cause him to immediately ask such a question, I thought. More than likely he was correct, but who would jump to such a conclusion so promptly? In thinking of how to respond, and what just might be the cause of my uneasy feelings, I stared at the base of my glass of tea.

  “Considering my past, it was always easy for me to dwell on certain thoughts, events, or ideas, and become a product of my second guessing myself. I believe, at least for me, becoming comfortable with the fact that I couldn’t change my past left me with no other option but to embrace the fact that I was left to accept it for being just what it was,” he paused and leaned into the table.

  “My past. And I sure can’t change it,” he smiled and shook his head slightly.

  “Do you have things you regret or wish you could change?” I asked as I looked up from my glass of tea.

  “I suppose my knee-jerk response should be yes, but it’s not going to be my answer. There are probably a good handful of people that would look at my past and say I had quite a bit to be either ashamed of or without a doubt regret,” he paused and began to shake his head again slowly.

  “I have no regrets. To regret my past would be to admit I am not satisfied with who or what I have become. Everything I have accomplished and all I have been exposed to – good or evil – has created what sits before you. If I look solely at the reflection I make today, I stand proud. So in short, no Parker, I don’t have things I regret,” he grinned softly as if satisfied with his response.

  “I’m sure sometimes I think of events of my past and feel sorry for myself. Not something I do often, but it does happen. Overall, I think I’m happy with who I am and what I have accomplished so far. I’m self-driven to succeed, I guess that’s a good thing,” I said as I looked down at my glass of tea again, realizing my response wasn’t nearly as uplifting or full of emotion as Downes’.

  “I imagine it would be difficult to come to terms with losing both parents at such a young age. Feeling sorry for one’s self would probably be quite common,” he said softly and almost apologetically.

  “It’s something I think about more often than you think,” I responded, still staring at my glass of tea.

  “Wait a minute. How did you know?” as I asked, I realized Katelyn may have told Kenton during my half hour of subconscious Kaetlyn-less bliss.

  “Mr. Ward’s background investigation of your past revealed it,” he responded.

  “Background investigation?” I sat up in my chair and became a little more focused.

  “You didn’t think Mr. Ward would have offered you such a position without knowing anything regarding who you are, did you? And, it’s public knowledge – anyone can find out. You realize that, don’t you?” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

  I felt proud and ashamed at the same moment. Part of me felt proud that Kenton had performed a background investigation on me, and still had interest in me working for him. I had nothing to hide, and I am quite proud of everything I have accomplished. Additionally, I felt ashamed I didn’t realize this was something he had done. It was a surprise, and I now felt foolish.

  “I guess I never really thought about it. It’s probably common for an employer employee relationship like this one, I suppose. To do a background investigation, that is,” I became a little more comfortable as I spoke, realizing it wasn’t anything grotesquely uncommon for an employer to do.

  Downes leaned forward again, resting his massive forearms into the edge of the table, “I would say in a situation such as this one, it would be mandatory. At any rate, were your parents a portion of what you were dwelling on in the last few days?”

  “Yes sir. I suppose so. That and recollections of my grandmother’s wisdom. It’s depressing thinking about being alone. You know, without family,” I said sadly.

  “Your grandmother passed as well, if I remember correctly,” he said, raising his eyebrows slightly.

  I didn’t like admitting it, but she was gone. She had passed the summer of my junior year of college – of breast cancer. Something she had fought for years and didn’t bring to my attention. I didn’t like being reminded of it, and in fact, preferred denying she was gone. I looked up and did the only thing I felt I could without losing my composure.

  I nodded my head.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, you can always look at Mr. Ward and me as being family. Now and always,” he said, turning his palms upward and smiling as he finished speaking.

  “Thank you. But one day this will all end. This job won’t last forever,” as I responded I began to feel a little more hollow and alone.

  “Quite the contrary. Mr. Ward doesn’t nor has he ever allowed a friend to slip from his grasp. In fact, he has very few people he considers friends. I would venture to say you, me, and Mr. Astur would satisfy the list entirely,” he nodded his head slowly as a form of reassurance.

  “Really?” I sat up in my chair, astonished at what he had said.

  “Do you really think he considers me a friend?” I asked.

  “Mr. Bale, I don’t think he does, I know so,” he responded.

  “But. Well, he hasn’t known me for long. It just seems like he’d be more inclined to get to know who I was and in time,” I paused and raised my index finger to my lips.

  “In time he would develop a friendship with me
. Or. Well, I don’t know,” I began to feel satisfied Downes statement was an accurate one.

  “Mr. Bale, Mr. Ward selected you from a large group of people. The factors which played the largest part in his decision making were who you are. You’re an impressive individual, Mr. Bale. Very much so,” he reached for the pitcher of tea and poured himself another glass.

  “If I remember correctly, there were twelve applicants. It was an exciting meeting for sure,” I grinned, recollecting Kenton’s intimidating demeanor during the meeting.

  “Mr. Bale,” Downes shook his head as if in disbelief, “at that juncture, there was only one applicant. Only one.”

  I sat and stared, trying to decide what it was Downes was trying to say. To the best of my ability, I attempted to recall the conditions of our first meeting. Was it possible Kenton investigated me prior to my having met him? Had he made the decision to hire me before we had even met?

  Highly unlikely, I decided.

  The advertisement was posted the morning of our first meeting. I responded to the ad, and was called in for an interview. During the meeting, Kenton tossed the contract in front of me and asked if I was a risk taker. I signed the contract, and he gave me keys to a car. There was no way he could have even known I existed before the morning of the meeting. Clearly, I was tired, and my mind was attempting to work overtime.

  “What did you mean by the comment? There was only one applicant?” I asked, hoping Downes would continue.

  He shook his head slowly from side to side.

  “I have offered too much as it is. Just know this, Mr. Bale. Mr. Ward admires you,” he said as he turned to face the ocean.

  “Admires me?” I blurted excitedly.

  Still staring out at the ocean, Downes nodded his head once sharply.

  The thought of Kenton admiring me was almost laughable. I certainly admired him. His brutal honesty was difficult to dismiss and without a doubt almost impossible not to admire – at least not for me. In fact, I aspired to one day become Kenton Ward, or at minimum as close as I could muster.

  “So, have you met anyone new?” Downes asked.