Dear John--part 8 Of 15 free porn video

PART 8 OF 15 --- CHAPTER 22

I wheeled myself across the floor waiting for I knew not what. Was I being unreasonable? I supposed that on any number of levels I was. But, all of that being true, it was also true that I was right! I was going to be relegated to second class citizenship; and while I was willing to accept the truth of that, I was not willing to accept any pretense that such was not the case.

They’d done so much for me that I was willing to accept my status. Yes I was. But I was going to demand that I be tendered at least the respect of them openly acknowledging that I was in fact right, and that no pretenses were to be entertained that, again, such was not the case. I was going to insist on it. I was going to make that point more than plain to the man once he arrived.

The baby was still down by the time my rival arrived with the twins.

****

“Well, it’s good you could finally see your way clear to make it up here,” said Owen.

The children, the twins, had greeted me formally and actually given me kisses on my cheek, my left cheek, upon arriving.

“Yes, well, I’ve been super busy, and I’ve had some medical stuff to deal with, my legs actually,” I said. Lying to the man came easy, not sure how I felt about that.

“Hmm okay, I guess if you couldn’t make it. But Sam, you need to move up here and sooner rather than later,” said Owen.

“Yeah, that’s what your woman said. And, I may actually consider it at some point, but only if we can all deal with each other on a realistic and truthful level,” I said. “And truth being an absolute.”

“Not sure what you mean,” said Owen.

“I will not allow myself to be disrespected or treated like a child, like I didn’t know anything. I will not,” I said.

“Huh?” he said. “I mean of course not. We would never do that not even by accident.”

“Owen, tell me with a straight face, that if I moved back here in order to be close to the children, that I could ever possibly hope to be the children’s number one daddy, the decision maker as it were,” I said. “And I do mean in all important matters regarding them.”

“We’ve been over this, Sam. You and I would share that duty. The one thing I can assure you of is that you will not be relegated to any second class citizenship per your fatherhood. I promise you that,” he said.

“Hmm, and if I moved back here, and had a decent place to live, and maybe eventually had a woman to share my bed and everything, would I be allowed to have the children stay with me half of the time?” I said.

“Well, I’m sure Abigail and I would consider such an arrangement,” he said.

“You’d consider it? You’d maybe allow it?” I said.

“Well yes. I mean the children would have some say in arrangement like the one you’re proposing here of course,” he said. “They’re ten years-old now, Sam. I mean . . . “

“The children? My son is a baby, and yes the twins are older, but still too young to be making those kinds of choices. Especially if it’s between some poor guy like me and a rich guy like you. I mean, well, you can imagine who they’ll chose, what they’ll choose. And you’re saying they’d have the choice to stay with you or with me?” I said, “I mean at their ages.”

“Well, I mean we’d need to consider their feelings, Sam. I mean don’t you think?” he asked.

I’d clearly stopped him cold. He had to realize, as I certainly did, that the middle class hovel that at best that I’d be able to afford would pale by comparison to castle Cord.

“You see why I am so sure that I will never be daddy number one, nor even equal daddy. I will always be sucking hind titty because you can simply out spend me. This is a waste of time. I should never have come up here. You two are liars. I’ll be leaving now. You and my ex have a nice life, yuh hear!” I said.

I didn’t exactly storm out, well I was in a wheelchair, but I did almost knock Abigail down who’d finally brought the baby out of the back room to meet me. I didn’t even look at him as I headed for the door.

“Sam! Where are you going!” she said.

“Ask your man,” I said. And then I was gone.

****

And then it was 2011. After the fact, they didn’t even try to call me on the phone. We were done. We were for sure done. Phoenix might never see my face again. And certainly not castle Cord regardless.

But there was Lana, and there was the VFW, and there was our future. And our future, if not exactly bright, at least it had purpose, something that had been sorely lacking since my return to the states after my stint in the brown dirt country.

Lana and I had a lot in common, and we needed each other. Apart from our more or less satisfying love life, there was the confluence of prime attributes: she had legs, and I could see. I had a truck that I could drive us places in. And she had the movie star looks, well in my opinion, and I had the good luck to be her consort.

We often got looks from the locals. The gawking was a problem, but more so for me than for her, since she couldn’t see them, and I could. I was so damn ugly that I’m sure the gawkers were also jokers. Well, I had to allow that a woman that looked like Lana would never even come near a guy that looked like me. Hell, if I made Abigail’s skin crawl to be near me how would any other woman react. Kind of a given that—badly.

I was thirty-five years-old and Lana was thirty-four, and we, the two of us finally had a life worth living. In spite of being blind, Lana turned out to be an excellent homemaker. It did take some getting used to how to do things and that mostly by me. But once we’d gotten our routine established: what went where, and when we did whatever, and those without exception; life in hovel Bradshaw-Meacham went smoothly. It should be noted here, that we did not marry. She was a bit skittish because she couldn’t see me. And me because of the reality that she couldn’t see me. Well, there was always the possibility that she could find a surgeon willing and able to somehow someway give her back her sight. At any rate we were happy, at least relatively so.

And what of the family Cord. Did I think about them now that I had a woman? Yes, of course I did, well the children. And, okay, my super beautiful ex-wife too: the one whose skin I made crawl. But as to that, I could relate; hell, I made my skin crawl too. I had gotten used to, well, me; but there was no way I was ever going to ‘like’ me; so maybe I was being too hard on the woman.

And the upshot of my unceremoniously leaving that day? They had apparently written me off. It would be a long time before I would see any of them again, seven years actually. Still . . .

****

2012

“Mom,” said Mia, now fifteen years-old, out of a clear blue sky, “why is it that we never see our other dad anymore?” Her mother smiled.

“Your dad, your other dad, Mister Bradshaw, decided that he wanted to live somewhere else and not be a part of this family. But maybe one day we’ll all see each other again. Who knows,” said Abigail Cord.

“He sure was ugly,” said Mia. “But, I still kind of miss him, mom.”

“Well, so do we all,” said Abigail, “but the man has to want to be here, and well, he doesn’t. But, like I say, maybe someday.” Her daughter nodded and it was a questioning nod.

The two women looked toward the front toward the of home’s atrium where a commotion was suddenly underway.

“Daddy, I want to go!” demanded Sarah coming into the room.

“Go where?” said her mother, coming into the room.

“Mom, tell Daddy that I can go please?” said Sarah.

“Owen?” said Abigail.

“She wants to go to that party at that boy’s house?” said Owen Cord.

“We talked about that already,” said Abigail. “If the parents aren’t going to be there then neither are the two of you.” She nodded in the direction of Mia while actually addressing Sarah.

“Mom, his brother is twenty-two and he’ll be there,” said Sarah.

“She just wants to go because of Roger,” said Mia. “But, I want to go too, Mom.”

“Twenty-two is not an actual adult,” said Owen. “So the answer is no.”

“Yes, I agree,” said Abigail.

“So where is Ronald?” said Owen.

“Just left a bit ago. He’s overnight at the Williamson’s” said Abigail.

The girls stormed upstairs not happy with the outcome. Roger Whitcomb would have to wait for another day to be dating one of the Cord girls.

“He’s too old for her,” said Owen, “that Roger Whitcomb kid.”

“He’s a senior and she’s a sophomore,” said Abigail. “It’s pushing it a little, but not totally out of the realm of reality.”

“I don’t know. I want her, the both of them for that matter, to be a little older before they start going to unchaperoned parties,” said Owen. His wife smiled.

“I know how you feel, Owen. I love it that you want to keep them safe, and I do too. But, we do need to be careful that we don’t alienate them by being unreasonably protective.”

“I suppose you’re right, but I would never forgive myself if something bad were to . . .” he started.

“Yes, yes, I know what you mean,” she said. She snickered. “I wonder how the other guy would have handled things.”

“Hmm, I expect about the same as we are,” he said. “Do you think about him much. I mean now that the kids are a little older?”

“Now and then. Same as you probably,” she said. “He should be here adding his input.”

“Well, it was his decision. We just finally gave him what I guess he wanted all along,” he said.

“Not so much,” she said. “He wanted to be here. He just wanted complete control. Unrealistic of him of course, but what all. As you say it was his choice.”

“Yes, it was. I just could not realistically see him as having them live with him half of the time. Thinking about it now, I don’t think he did either, not really. But, at the time it seemed like he was ready to make the demand. I just . . .” he started.

“I know, and you just couldn’t be separated from the kids to that extent. I love you for that. I know you adore them,” she said.

“I do, all three of them,” he said. “Still the man has never even met his son. That is positively sinful, and that on his part not mine or yours.”

“Yes, and you’re right on all counts. I wonder how the man is doing today?” she said.

“Probably drinking himself into a bitter future with no woman nor any chance of ever having one, and therefore, put another way: he’s lonely and doing bad,” he said.

“We should try to connect with him one of these days,” she said. “I do feel guilty on more than one level and I know you do too.”

“Yes, and you’re right, I do feel guilty. But, things just turned out the way that they did. And, maybe, hopefully, we’re wrong and he’s moved on and doing okay. I could have Velma check him out. What do you think?” he said.

“Kind of risky? If he found out he was being investigated, well . . .” she said.

“No, we’d be proof against that. Velma is very good. I really do not want to cause him anymore pain than, well, than we’ve already caused him, but . . .” he said.

“No, and you’re right of course. Still, the man has to meet his son. That’s the big fly in the ointment. I just can’t believe that he doesn’t want to meet him,” she said. “The truth of that might be the excuse we need to harass the man one more time,” she said. The man nodded his agreement.

“Okay, I’ll talk to Velma,” he said.

****

“My Lord my son is handsome,” said Owen. “Five years-old and already turning heads.” He laughed.

“Yes, he is a handsome boy. His bio-dad was handsome too back in the day. I guess he has inherited some of the man’s genes,” said Abigail.

“Hey, I’m handsome too,” said Owen, still laughing.

“Yes, you are dear. You are very handsome.

“On another subject are you taking Ronald to the zoo today. It is Saturday, and you did promise him,” said Abigail.

“No, that’s going to be delayed until tomorrow. He and I are going to the park to play catch today. I mean if he’s going to be a major league ballplayer one day; he does need to practice,” he said.

“Well okay, fine. Harriet and I are going to be going to the salon. You boys behave yourselves while we’re gone. Got it,” she said, hands on her hips but smirking.

“Yes, ma’am, we’ll be good—probably,” he said.

“Hmm yes, probably,” she said.

****

The day was sunny, the park wasn’t too crowded, and his son was excited. Owen Cord loved this little boy. Between his beautiful wife, his absolutely adorable twin girls, and this perfect little man was the fact positive that he was the luckiest sonovabitch in the world. He did feel a little bit guilty about how he’d usurped another man’s family. But, he told himself, and he knew he was right, the man would have lost them anyway. Sam Bradshaw did not have the drive to keep a woman like Abigail Cord around. Yes, Abigail, while not exactly a goldigger, was a woman who knew what she wanted and it wasn’t mediocrity. Yes, Owen Cord felt a twinge of guilt, yes he did; but in his defense he had sworn both to himself and to his wife, and to the man himself too if the truth were to be told; that if he, Sam Bradshaw, would only loosen up a tad that he would be set up for life.

He saw the woman he called to meet him at the park advancing toward him.

“Owen,” said Velma Reason, “I was surprised to get your call.”

“Yes, it was kind of spur of the moment. Hold on a second.

“Ronnie, go play on the monkey bars for a minute or two, okay?” said his dad.

“Okay daddy,” he said. The two adults watched the little boy scamper off to the bars. Owen Cord dropped the sports bag that carried the gloves and balls they were going to be needing on the ground and turned to face his favorite private investigator.

“Yes, Velma, I need to know how Sam Bradshaw is doing. What’s going on with him, and this has got to be absolutely on the QT,” said Owen. The woman nodded.

“Okay, not a problem, I can do that. How deep do you want me to dig?” she said.

“I want everything,” he said. "And maybe some background on any friends he might be hanging with. And . . .”

“And any women that might be around,” she said finishing his thought for him.

“Yes,” he said. “I don’t expect that there will be any, but you never know. I guess stranger things have happened.”

“Hmm, yes, maybe,” she said.

“Okay, but to do an in-depth check like you seem to be wanting might take a little time, but not that much time. Give me a couple of weeks,” she said.

“Okay, a couple of weeks will be fine. Looking to hear from you,” he said. “But, now I have to begin training my future major leaguer.” His smile was a mile wide.

“He is a beautiful boy,” said Velma.

“He is that,” said Daddy.

CHAPTER 23

2014

It was my birthday and for some damn reason my good buddy, Jeffrey Michaels, had seen fit to screw me over and have half of the American Army in attendance to celebrate it—read embarrass me.

“Just a little celebration,” said Jeff.

“Yeah,” said Harry Gould. “And we’re buyin’”

The hullabaloo was on!

There were seven of us doing the hard core drinking thing, and I was no better than the middle of pack as far as consumption was concerned.

I noticed someone paying attention to me. A woman it was. I knew for damn sure it wasn’t anything to do with my amazing good looks. Maybe she was enamored of my amazing popularity on my birthday.

I pulled Jeff aside; well, he was standing right next to my chair.

“Jeff, ask that lady at the end of the bar if she’d like to join the celebration,” I said, “she’s been staring at us for the past fifteen minutes. Maybe I’ll get lucky.” My bud smirked.

“Yeah, for sure,” he said. I watched as he meandered over to the woman. Short, pretty, raven haired, confident: she was also a mystery, well, to me.

I watched as he talked to her. She smiled and nodded in the affirmative. Now I smiled.

He led her over to us.

“Hi, I’m Sam,” I said, as Jeff led her to me. “I’m the honoree today, but I’m willing to share.” I was smiling.

“Well, that’s nice,” she said. “Nice of you to invite me to the party.” She waved at the group surrounding us.

“Our pleasure for sure, ma’am,” I said.

“So what did you do to have so many friends attend your birthday party?” she said.

“Nothing much, really, I won the bet is all, oh, and I got a little older,” I said.

“A bet?” she said.

“Yes, I bet these guys that they had to come to my 38th birthday party if I could eat a hand grenade and survive. I won the bet like I said.” I said. She gave me a look the major component of which was disbelief.

“He’s not kidding, Velma. That is exactly what he did. None of us actually think he’s immortal or anything but maybe something close to it,” said Jeffrey.

“Hmm,” she said. “Tell me more,”

For the next ten or fifteen minutes she queried me and a few of the others in the party, casually, but more or less in depth. I began to wonder what was so all fired interesting about a collection of us war relics. But, she was pretty and none of the guys seemed to mind her mini-inquisition. I sure didn’t. Apart from Lana, I’d not had an actual conversation with a woman in so long that it wasn’t even funny.

The party went on till the wee smalls. We actually closed the place at a few minutes after two. Jeff, who’d driven me down, drove me home. Velma, the stranger woman, had left a bit before we all headed out.

“That Velma woman sure was nice looking,” said Jeff.

“She was that. If I still had my face, I’d have made a play for her,” I said.

“Hell, I can dig it man. I wouldn’t mind taking her out for dinner myself.” said Jeff.

“Well, hell man, you’re single ask her out. Did you get her number?” I said.

“No, but I think Johnny Lipscom did. Maybe I’ll ask him for it,” said Jeff.

The fact that my best bud could do what I couldn’t do kinda made me feel jealous and sad, again. But hell, he had a life to live too. It wasn’t his fault that I was the way I was. What was kind of ironic was the truth that he was the way he was because I was the way I was. I just sighed.

We pulled up in front of the Gloria and the man walked me to the door. He wasn’t pretty enough to be considered a real date, but I sure was glad I had a friend like him. A guy like me needed friends.

“Okay, man, see you tomorrow if you’re around,” he said.

“You got it man. But me and Lana might just kind of kick back tomorrow. There’s baseball on the tube: I just got me a TV. It’s old but it works okay. Maybe I’ll do some catching up on whatever’s going on with my Dodgers,” I said.

“Do it,” he said.

“Hi” said Lana, “how was the party?”

“Good, noisy, but good. You shoulda come,” I said.

“No, no, when I’ve got my period and I knew that all of the talk was going to be an endless parade of battle field lies, I had to choose between my sitcoms or noisy liars. Easy choice.” She couldn’t see the sitcoms of course, but she could listen to them, and she always did.

We went to bed. Tomorrow would be another day in the life of a complete loser—me.

****

They were in the pool. They had themselves wrapped around each other. “These tits are the softest things I’ve ever had my paws on,” said Owen, as he massaged her breasts. She pulled him down to her level and kissed him gently.

“And they’re yours to feel up whenever you wish,” she said. She laughed and he followed suit. The buzzer indicating a visitor buzzed. The two of them looked up.

“Damn,” he said. “Talk about importuning a guy.”

He muscled himself up and over the side of the pool and grabbed a towel. He headed inside wiping the most of the wet off of himself in the process. He answered the door with the towel draped over his head.

“Velma!” he said.

“Oops, I guess I should’ve called. But, I was on the road and just decided to take a chance you’d be in, it being Saturday,” she said.

“No, no, you’re always welcome. The wife and I were just taking a dip in the pool,” he said.

“Hmm, sounds nice,” she said.

“But come in, come in,” he said. “I take it you have some news about the other guy?”

“I do, I do,” she said.

“Hi Velma,” said Abigail, coming in and drying her hair with a towel in the process.

“And to you,” said Velma.

“Come, come, let’s go into the den,” said Owen.

The pleasantries over with the three adults were seated around the table that served as the business center of the house.

“The children?” said Velma.

“Ronald’s upstairs napping. The two girls are at practice for the school play,” said Abigail. Their visitor nodded.

“Well, I went to check on the man, and happened to come upon him in the middle of his birthday party,” she said. Abigail’s eyes shot open.

“I’d forgotten. Of course, it’s his birthday; well, it was a week ago,” said Abigail.

“Yes, well there was a party. A number of his Army friends were there, and I was invited to join them; which I did,” said Velma.

“I talked to all of them, and one in particular, Jeffrey Michaels,” she said.

“Yes, yes, we know Jeff,” said Abigail.

“Yes, well he, Jeffrey, called me a couple of days after the party and we went to dinner,” she said.

“This is getting interesting,” said Owen.

“Yes, well, and before we go any farther, I did talk to the man himself and that at some length,” she said.

“Okay,” said Owen.

“But most of what I found out I found out at the dinner I had with Jeffrey,” she said.

“What did Sam say?” butted in Abigail.

Velma Reason sighed. “He, Sam, told me that he had no family, and that his last living relative was his father who passed a few years back. He has no job and gets by on his military disability.”

Abigail nodded, sadly nodded.

“And Jeffrey?” said Owen.

“We talked mostly about his job, he’s a truck driver, and his hopes for the future. He wants a family and he’s getting to age where he’s kinda in a hurry, his words,” she said.

“And about Sam?” said Owen.

“Yes, he says the man is ultimately sad and depressed, but he’s better than he was according to Jeffrey. He evidently has a girlfriend now. Her name is Lana. What kinda bothered me about that was the fact that when I talked to Sam he never mentioned her; Jeffrey did, but he didn’t,” said Velma. “It seemed very strange to me after the fact.”

“Yes, that is strange,” said Abigail. “But sad and depressed?”

“Yes, that’s what Jeffrey said. He said that the boys, his friends were kind of taking turns visiting him at his apartment and meeting him for drinks at the VFW where he hangs out almost nightly. The girlfriend hardly ever goes there with him. It’s a guy thing I guess, I mean the VFW bar.” said Velma.

“Anything else?” said Owen.

“Well, I will be keeping you informed. I think I’m going to be dating Jeffrey on a regular basis. And before you ask, I don’t know,” she said.

“Oh my,” said Abigail. “Well good for you. If there’s anything we can do please let us know. Okay.”

“Sure will,” said Velma.

****

“Well,” said Abigail, and it was a rhetorical “well.”

“Yes,” he said. “The man is spinning his wheels. Rather than trying to do something, he’s just waiting to get old and die. So, do we try to shake him loose from his nothing life, or . . .”

“I’m going to go to him. I have to,” she said. Her husband nodded.

“It’s been years now and nothing, and now because I had him investigated we’re going to rock the boat? I don’t know, Abigail. I’d like to help the man but only if he is willing to be helped. If he isn’t we are only setting ourselves up for more of the same and complicating his life in the bargain,” he said.

“Owen you may be right. Hell, you probably are right. But, I think we need to give him one more chance to clean up his act. And you heard Velma; he may have a regular girlfriend. I wonder what she’s like?” she said.

“One more chance. Well, I guess one more go at the man won’t kill us. But Abby, this cannot be allowed to mess up our lives or that of the children. I’m going to hold fiercely to that rule. And, I need you too as well. We’ll do whatever it takes. But if there is no way then there is no way. Okay?” he asked. She nodded.

“Yes, okay,” she said. “This will be our swan song if he stonewalls us.”

“Okay then, it’s going to be an all-out push to make the guy wake up and fly right,” he said. She nodded.

****

She parked kind of far back in the lot, deliberately. Reason? She needed to decompress and gather herself without the possibility of being seen until she’d done such. There had been so many failures, so many bad things happen mostly because of herself. That little piece of historical reality must not repeat itself.

She sat and stared at the man’s door. He’d left seven years earlier and neither she nor Owen had made any attempt to intercept him to change his mind. She was certain that he relived that time in his head often. And every time he did he was doubtless blaming one or the other of them.

She exited the three month old Cadillac, clicked the locking mechanism, and strode purposefully toward the structure.

She stood in front of number 104 for a full minute before knocking. There was a buzzer, but she knocked and that for no good reason.

The door creaked open thirty seconds later. “Yes,” said the woman. She was wearing very dark glasses—in doors: the hallmark of a blind person. That explained a lot. Her Sam was so ugly that only a blind woman would be interested in him. The wheelchair would not have been a problem for the handsome man she’d married a million years before, but the face . . .

“Yes, my name is Abigail Cord. I’m his ex-wife,” she said. The woman stood there, not saying anything for a long time, well, it seemed like a long time.

“I see,” she said finally. “Sam went to the market. He’ll be back soon. I guess I should ask you to come in.” She stood aside to admit the visitor.

“Thank you,” said Abigail.

The room was different, a woman’s touch thought Abigail. Maybe this blind lady was what the man needed.

“I’m guessing it’s something important,” said Lana. “I mean I know it’s been a long time since you’ve seen my man. Oh, and please have a seat. Oh, and my name is Lana, ex-Army same as your ex-husband.”

Abigail watched the woman across room take her seat as though she were a sighted person.

“Thank you,” said Abigail. She took the proffered seat. “Yes, it’s been a long time with no contact.”

Just then they heard a car parking outside the apartment door.

“That’s him,” said Lana. Abigail, who had been feeling a little more relaxed about the situation, was suddenly no longer so.

One minute later the door opened and Sam Bradshaw wheeled into the room.

“Missus Cord,” I said, and it was a cold greeting on my part. I really didn’t need or want this visit.

“Sam,” she said.

“What are you doing here? I figured you’d finally consigned me to the junk heap of unmourned history. Oh and apparently you’ve met Lana,” I said.

“Yes, we’ve met, just now. And what am I doing here? I’m here to see if you’d maybe like to talk a bit about our children,” she said.

“They’re your children,” I said, “yours and Mister Cord’s.”

“Yours and mine and yes Owen’s too,” she said.

“Then you’ve wasted your time. You can just turn around and head back to wherever you came from,” I said. “There’s nothing for you here.”

“Sam, the children are getting big, even Ronald is growing; he’s seven now.

“Believe it or not the Twins ask about you, talk about you. Not often, but often enough that I, we, decided that we needed to make one more effort to get you involved with them,” said Abigail.

“Can’t see any upside to doing that, Missus Cord. I don’t need any more trouble or put downs or back stabbing insults, or offers of money or any of it, Missus Cord.” I said.

“Sam, we never looked down on you, never. Did we do things right all of the time, no, but frankly neither did you,” said Abigail.

“How dare you blame me for not doing things right! I never said that you made my skin crawl. I never said you couldn’t have the children live with you part of the time, even most of the time. Well and there are just too many things to list,” I said. “But you did say and do those things to me or he did! So get the hell away from me! I said.

“Sam, you’re right, I apologize—again,” she said.

“Anyone for soft drinks or coffee?” said Lana, breaking in for the first time. Abigail looked over at her.

“Coffee for me if you have it made,” said Abigail.

“Nothing for me, dear,” I said.

Lana disappeared into the kitchenette.

“Changing the subject. Your lady is nice. Can I ask are you two married?” said Abigail.

“No, and I’d rather not share any personal stuff with you or the man. My life is no longer a part of your life or any of your business,” I said.

“Sam, please, lighten up a little okay,” said Abigail.

“Why? You weren’t invited down here. We’re getting along just fine thank you very much. We don’t have a lot but we do have each other, and we have each other’s back. You know like you didn’t have mine.” I said. “Well except to stab me in it!”

“I guess I deserved that,” said Abigail.

“But tell me, Missus Cord, how are the children? You say Ronald's growing?” I said.

“Yes,” said Abigail. “Here.” She reached into her purse and pulled out two photos. One was of a pair of twin teenage girls. The other of a little boy, a boy I knew to be seven years-old.

“Beautiful. I’m sure their father is proud,” I said.

“You’re their father, Mister. You need to get that,” she said.

“I’m not into second class fatherhood,” I said, “not then, not now, not ever.”

“No one ever thought of you as second class anything, no one except you that is,” said Abby.

“Don’t you dare sit there and lie to me. I don’t deserve that any more than I deserve all of the other stuff you’ve piled on me,” I said.

“Here you are Abigail,” said Lana. She set a tray down in front of the guest. She’d obviously spent some time making the two cups of coffee and putting together the formal serving set.

The two women sipped their coffee.

The monetary interruption was welcome. I looked over at the two of them. They were smiling formally. Lana couldn’t see her guest of course, but I know she knew exactly what she looked like and the attitude that she was exhibiting. My Lana was real good at reading people. Oh yeah,” I thought.

“So what are you here for really, Missus Cord? I mean what do you expect to gain by coming here after all this time,” I said.

“Short term, a visit by you at our place up there so you can see the children. And especially your son whom you’ve never met,” said Abigail.

“What do you think, Lana,” I said. My bitterness clear to all in my tone of voice.

“Well, it’s your decision of course, Sam, but maybe you should at least meet your son. You’ve talked about him often enough,” she said. I got a look from Abigail when she heard that.

“Yes, Sam you need to,” said Abigail.

“And if we came up there, how would the children be greeting me?” I said. The look on Abigail’s face as pure frustration, I could see that, and I didn’t give a shit.

“As their father of course,” she said. “The girls know who you are. And like I said they do ask about you from time to time. You need to reconnect with them.”

It was all I could do to keep from wheeling over to where my ex-wife was sitting and spit in her face. But, I smiled instead.

“Their real dad going to be okay with that?” I said.

“Sam, damn it! But yes, okay. He’s going to be good with that,” she said. I nodded. But the nod was laden with negativism, and I could feel a snarl twisting my deformed lips.

“Sam, I think it’s important that you meet your son,” said Lana.

“Huh?” I said, looking at my woman like she was a traitor.

“Sam!” said Lana, reinforcing her opinion.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll come. Next weekend good for you and your man, Abigail?” I said. She nodded.

“That’ll be fine,” she said, “a start anyway.”

“Hmm,” I said.

We talked for some time, but in the end the woman left without staying for dinner, and Lana had invited her.

CHAPTER 24

The meeting with Abigail had been tense, but in the end, with a major push on the part of Lana, the decision was made to make the trek up to Phoenix. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but secretly I had long wanted, needed, to see my son. He might not be my son in any real sense of the word anymore; I was aware of that, and it saddened me big time. But, I needed to at least meet him, see him.

And yes, the decision having been made to go, I did the manly thing: I cried my eyes out, and Lana comforted me. Thank God the other woman was gone by then.

The drive up in my twenty-one year-old Silverado was quiet most of the way. But as we neared our goal she opened up to me.

“Sam, they’re your children and only yours. Yes, the man adopted them as you’ve told me more than once, but that’s just a legal thing not a real thing. You and your ex are the parents. And you really do need to add yourself to the mix,” she said.

“I don’t know, Lana. Hearing them call that man daddy is a real tough nut for me. It’s why I left in the first place, well, part of the reason,” I said.

“I know, but you’re in the wrong in this case. Or, maybe not in the wrong, but guilty of mistaken resolution. Whatever they allow you, take it. So you’re second in line. He’s the one that has to consider who the real father is. He may convince himself that it’s him, even talk the kids into calling him that, buy them off, whatever; but you have evidence that he will never have, not ever,” she did.

“I don’t know, maybe.

“It’s just real hard. I mean me in a wheelchair and the not the pretty face I used to be; well, it’s just hard,” I said.

“I know, sir, I know,” she said.

****

We’d called before coming and it had been Lana who had in the end made the call. We would be there early Friday evening. I had asked Lana to make the case that she and I would be more comfortable staying at a motel, but evidently Abigail almost had a fit putting that idea out to pasture. We’d be spending the night in the Cord guest house. I’d been on the point of arguing the point, but Lana had accepted the offer without even looking at me or asking my opinion on the matter.

The guest house, the same one they’d long ago asked me to make my home in was a nice place. Smallish compared to castle Cord of course, but that suited me just fine. Two bedrooms, two baths, it even had a one car garage. It had been where my truck had been parked for so long after I’d gone overseas and she had dumped me for the money man. It would be parked there again, now.

We pulled in in front of the main entrance to the two story castle and were immediately met by the master of the house.

“Hello, Sam,” said Owen. “And this must be Lana? I’m Owen Cord.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” she said. The man smiled.

“Shall we?” he said, indicating that we should go inside.

****

Dinner was good, well, okay, very good. They had a cook, a Filipino guy who really knew how to put food together. That they were putting on the dog for us did not impress me. I saw it as rubbing our nose in their prosperity as opposed to our poverty. But, okay, sour grapes or not, I didn’t much care for the show. I would have preferred hot dogs or hamburgers.

The kids were at the table with us of course. I kept getting looks from the twins who had greeted me once we’d come into the house, and had given me kisses on the cheek, no doubt under orders from Abigail. Ronald was sitting by his daddy, and I don’t mean me. My son never even looked up to see me. Well he was only seven and likely very shy.

To be fair, I had been given a heads up about the situation from Abigail. Her reasoning was the truth that since my son had never even met me—all my fault of course—that we needed to go a bit slower with him than might be the case with the twins who didn’t know me all that much better themselves. I had acquiesced to her suggestion, request, whatever it was.

After dinner I found myself out on the patio flanked by Lana and Abigail. I was informed that Owen was inside explaining things to Ronald. I was also informed that they would be out shortly, and a proper introduction would be happening. I guess they figured that waiting till after dinner was a useful tactical move. I had to allow that it probably was.

“It might be a little bit, Sam, before they come out. Well, I mean . . .” said Abigail.

“No, it’s all right. I understand,” I said. “Frankly I really don’t care. Whatever works.” Abigail’s look was pure irritation.

“Honey, I’m right here with you,” said Lana sensing my anxiety.

“Thanks, Babe, I really need you right now too,” I said. She nodded.

There was a rustling of movement behind us.

And then I was face to face with my son. I had been across the table from him at dinner, but this was somehow different, very different.

“Hello, sir,” said my beautiful boy.

“Well, and hello to you too, Ronald,” I said. He was skittish, but he came to me and gave me a not too enthusiastic hug. Well, I was used to that from adults let alone a seven year-old boy who was seeing a monster in front of him. It was clear to me that he wanted to be anywhere but with me.

After the hug, he retreated to his dad. Owen looked really unnerved. I actually felt sorry for the man, go figure.

There was a picnic table some yards off in the yard. My chair wasn’t the most mobile of vehicles on turf, but I made it out there, and waited to see if the boy would follow. He did, but slowly. Owen and the women hung back on the patio, but close enough that the boy would feel safe. Man did I feel like shit.

I posted myself at the end of the table in my chair of course. Ronald for his part took a seat on one of the benches a little farther away from me than he might have had I had a face. I didn’t so he didn’t, sit closer to me that is.

“You know who I am, Ronald?” I said, in my most kid friendly voice.

“Yes sir, Daddy says you’re my dad too,” he said. I smiled. Well, he had been informed of the reality of things.

“Yes, but we’ve never met,” I said.

“No sir,” he said.

“Ronnie, can I call you Ronnie?” I said. He nodded.

“My face is kind of scary, huh,” I said. He shook his head.

“It’s okay. I know it’s a little scary. I got it in the Army,” I said. “Did you know that?”

“Yes sir, Mommy told me you were a hero in the Army,” he said.

“Well, I am very glad to meet you,” I said. “I have so wanted to talk to you.”

He was kind was looking around. I think he wanted to be rescued. I signaled for Owen to come and join us. He did.

“You have a very nice boy here,” I said. Owen gave me a look but didn’t comment on my comment.

“Yes, Ronald is a very good boy. He has a baseball game tomorrow. We would really appreciate it if you would come, you and Lana,” he said.

“Would it be all right if we came to your game tomorrow, Ronnie?” I said.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“Well good, then we will try to make it,” I said.

****

The girls had been left inside to dawdle while I got introduced to their brother. Well, they were teenagers.

Abigail came up to me, us, Owen and me. Ronnie ran into the house. I wasn’t sure whether it was me he was running from or to something else.

“I’ll be talking to him,” said Abigail. She turned on her heels and went inside presumably to look for my boy. Well, not my boy anymore.

“You are a shock,” said Owen. “You should have been here these past years.” I gave him a look that bordered on pure hatred. But then again, did I really hate the man, or, was it just a serious case of out of control envy.

I wheeled myself back to where Lana was sitting wondering no doubt what was going on.

“I’m back,” I said. She smiled. That made me feel a lot better. With her on my side I was going to be fine. I needed her, and I guess she needed me too. The gods weren’t entirely against me.

“Let’s go back to the cottage,” I said.

“Good idea,” she said.

****

“Well, how do you think it went?” said Abigail. Her husband shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think he’s pissed, but this one is on him. Like I told him ten minutes ago, he should have been here all along,” said Owen.

“Remember our goal here. We have to kind of lead him in the right direction. He doesn’t know how to do this, and we do. I’m going to take the bull by the horns and go directly to Lana. I figure she might be the one who can make inroads into the man’s bitterness,” she said.

“Hmm, maybe. They’re supposed to be going to the T-ball game tomorrow. Maybe you can talk to her there. I’ll do my best to get Sam interested in watching Ronald’s game and maybe talk to him myself some,” he said.

“Okay, I guess we’re committed at this point. But I’m worried. Ronald was not enthused with meeting him especially after he saw him,” said Abigail.

“No, and I know it. It’ll be a matter of him getting used to the man. It might be kind of a tough row in the beginning. But if the man has the sense God gave sheep; he’ll finally be around and be able to interact with the three of them. Not just hiding out in Tucson for God’s sake,” said Owen.

****

We were up and at ‘em by 8:00. Nobody had bothered us once we’d gone back to the guest house. I actually appreciated that. The guest house had a patio, not much bigger than the one we had at our apartment back in Tucson. I’d gone out for my morning coffee, to kind of get my head on straight for the day. I was alone. Well, I was alone and then I wasn’t.

“Just got a call from the big house,” said Lana joining me. She had a cup of coffee too. I should say it always amazed me how easily she adapted to her surroundings, I mean with her being blind. She never seemed to get lost or to bump into anything. She did use her white tipped feeler-cane, that’s what I called it, and I guess that made the difference.

“Yeah?” I said.

“The game’s at 1:00, but we’ve got breakfast at their place in half an hour. I told them we’d be there. Sam, I know last night was uncomfortable, but we came, so let’s make the most of it. Okay?” She said.

“Okay, honey, I agree. I agree, and I will cooperate unless they do or say something really asinine,” I said. “I'm kind of tired of being out in the cold anyway, figuratively speaking.”

“Hmm, yes,” she said, “figuratively speaking.”

****

I had showered. The man had thought of everything, I thought. There was a non-skid bench in the oversized shower for me. Which is something not everybody thought of in terms of paraplegics taking showers, but Owen Cord had. I expected that he was a deep thinker in his job too. I had to smile. In point of fact I really didn’t know what the man did. I knew he was a money man, but what did that mean? Rich he was and a mystery to me.

“Well, good morning, folks,” said Abigail coming into the dining room. It was not a dinette; it was a dining room. There were a dozen chairs around the long table. The Filipino guy was serving.

“Good morning,” I said. Lana imitated me.

“Good morning kids,” I said singling them out. They all chorused their responses. Ronald looked a little more comfortable than he had the night before, and he was seated directly across from me.

“You gonna watch my game?” He said. I was surprised at his question. I had told him the night before that I was.

“Yes, sir,” I said, “like I promised last night. You gonna hit a home run?” He shrugged.

“Well, we’ll be cheering you on,” I said.

“So, Sam,” said Owen. “Sleep good last night?”

“Yes, it was good. We’re good,” I said.

“Dad,” said Mia, “Sarah and I have a play we’re going to be in next month. Would you come?”

“Of course,” I said, without thinking. Her invite was not scripted. I think I appreciated that more than anything that had gone down with the Cords in forever. “I would love that.”

Lana smiled. I could see she approved of my tone of voice.

“Great Dad,” said Sarah. Also an unscripted response to my response.

“He’s gonna watch my game,” argued Ronald. I was beginning to feel a little better about the kids than had been the case. Ronald appeared to be jealous of the girls taking center stage for the moment.

“You betcha,” I said. “And the ladies play next month.”

“That will be wonderful,” broke in Abigail. Her enthusiasm almost made me feel like not wanting to accommodate her happiness. But for the moment all was simpatico. Owen added his agreement to the mix on the heels of her expressed joy.

****

The game was on and the day was warm, and the parents and friends of the little guys were loud, some of them a little too loud I thought. Well, it was their kids in the batting box and whatever, so I guess it made sense.

“My guy didn’t get a home run, but he did get on base: a hit to short that was muffed by the shortstop, I guess that’s what he was.

“Great job!” I said, coming up to our sports hero after the game. The park did accommodate us wheelchair guys pretty good. And yes, I was proud and excited about his success. One noticeable thing, Owen was kind of staying in the background as far as taking over the congrats of my boy, our boy, his boy—take your choice, and that was clearly scripted. It was clear that he was giving me first place at least for the day. Which fact bothered me because I knew it was going to be, if not exactly a onetime deal, at best a rare deal. Even if I were to move back it would still be way less than he would be getting in terms of time with Ronald.

“Thanks, Dad,” he said. He’d clearly been coached to refer to me as his dad, but I did appreciate it.

“For sure,” I said. “That was some hit.”

The girls were seated on either side of me with Owen to my left on the other side of Sarah. Mia, Abigail, and Lana were to my right in that order.

We all went out for ice cream after the game, and I paid. Well, it only cost $36 for the crowd of us.

The ice cream parlor was called A Slice of Ice. Pretty imaginative I thought.

Owen and I had a booth to ourselves the kids were in together at a large table and Abigail and Lana were in the booth across from us. I could see that this was it. We were going to get the pressure now if we were going to get it at all.

“So, did you enjoy yourself?” He said.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I did,” I said.

“Enough to get you and Lana to move back here to Phoenix?” said Owen.

I actually laughed. “You know I just might. But, no, at least not right now,” I said. “Too many things to consider.”

“Look, last night, I was out of line saying what I said,” he said. I gave him a look the major element of which was genuine surprise.

“Yeah, well, maybe you were right regardless,” I said. “Maybe I should’ve moved back before.”

“You probably figure, and if you are you’d be right, that Abby is pressuring Lana to get you to do so now,” he said.

“No, I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but now that you mention it . . .” I said.

“Sam, it would be better for all of us. And the offer of the guesthouse is still on the table. Anyway, Let me know if you decide to go that way,” he said. I nodded.