Copyrightę 2012 -- Nicholas Hall
Parker's Love -- Chapter Eight -- "The winter is past, the rain is over and gone."
(Authors note: At the urging of many devoted readers and followers of "Parker's Love," we will continue the love story until it ends, now with one additional player, Jedediah Dickenson Parker, son of Josiah Dickenson Parker, known as "Parker". We last left them, at the end of Chapter Seven, with
"Receiving no response, I looked down at Jed, head resting on my chest, sleeping soundly as only the young can. It was comforting, having him here with me, trusting me, surrendering himself to my care, relieving me of my loneliness. I looked over at the picture of Grant and me on my desk, back at Jed, and smiled to myself, finding more peace than I'd found in the sixteen years Grant passed away. He may've left me physically, but I could feel his presence, his satisfaction and pleasure, as the child we so desperately wished we could `ve had during our years together, as Jed rested comfortably on my breast.
Gently moving his head, I rose, picked him up, and carried him to his bedroom. Placing him on his bed, covered him with a blanket, I kissed him softly on the forehead, saying quietly, "Nay, sweet one, for I am but your humble servant; it is thee we love, for thou art the fairest, the most magnificent, and in thee, Jed, our son, Grant and I are complete.")
The night passed swiftly, faster and more restful than any night before, certainly one of the best nights rests I'd experienced since Grant passed away. Mornings are a favorite time of day for me and as the sun begins making earlier and earlier appearances with the advent of Spring and settles for the night at an increasingly later time, I rise early and bed myself later each night, not wanting to be wasteful of those delightful daylight hours. One advantage of living in the north, the days are much longer in the summer, but, by contrast, much shorter in the winter, bringing on full darkness not long after four o'clock in the afternoon.
The morning cacophony of bird songs seemed to have a new lilt, joy, and meaning to me, greeting me, welcoming me and my son to a new day, as they warbled away the vestiges of darkness. A pair of loons, somewhere on the lake, added their mournful, lonesome, but reassuring cries to the chorus.
Slipping on a pair of boxer shorts before leaving my bedroom, I wandered my way to the bathroom, detouring a moment to peek in on Jed, sound asleep. Sleeping on his side, hands tucked in his crotch between his legs, seeking warmth, his covers all akimbo on the bed, brought me certain nostalgia. Grant often said I slept that way when cold and would snuggle up against him seeking the heat from his body. Jed slept like his father; au naturale'. Quietly entering the room, pulling the covers over him to cover his nakedness from the morning chill, it was obvious there were a couple of things he didn't inherit from his father, the least of which was his color. Softly closing the bedroom door, I finished my chores in the bathroom, and made my way to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
It didn't seem long until the coffee pot ceased its bubbling, burping, jingling percolating on the stove top. After letting it set a minute to settle the grounds once I turned the heat off, I poured myself a cup and walked out to the screened-in porch to savor the warmth, fragrance, and taste of the delectable brew. There's nothing like the first cup of coffee in the morning unless it's a cold beer on a hot summer day or a glass of wine on a chilly evening. Life was certainly going to be different with a teenage son in the house. There were many adaptions to be made, personally and otherwise. As ill prepared as I might be, I could only hope my life with Grant and the years I spent teaching at the university would help me through this transition in my life and in Jed's.
Looking across the lake, my attention was drawn to the little township cemetery, just beginning to be illuminated by the morning sun, where Grant lay waiting for me to join him. There were times when I thought seriously about hastening the process, but I knew it would displease him immensely, so I refused to give in to despair. Grant often reminded me that all things would work out; perhaps not the way we wished, but it would all work out in the end.
His death from cancer was certainly not what I desired, or he for that matter, and I wasn't certain all would work out at the time. But now, the winter was over and spring was well on its way, as evidenced by the plethora of wild flowers blooming in the forest and open areas. The Trillium was one of my favorites; it's large white three-pronged blossom decorating the forest like small, white clad fairies or angels, bobbing up and down in gentle breezes. The Hepatica and Rue Anemone were smaller, delicate in appearance, appearing dot-like in clusters, complimenting the Trillium.
Wild blueberries were budding, preparing to bloom, and, if we received adequate rain and warmth, would produce a bounty of small, round, deep blue berries in July ready to adorn my cereal in the morning or become embedded in pancakes. If there were plenty, I could freeze a few or can some sauce to drizzle over vanilla ice cream, to be savored anytime of the year. These were some of the many things I'll have to teach Jed as he settles in and becomes familiar with our, no, my way, of life. I did miss Grant so, perhaps now more than ever since he was always my rock, my compass, my love, and my confidant.
My reverie was pleasantly interrupted by the now familiar sound of Jed's crutches thrumming on the floor as he came onto the porch to join me. Before sitting down, he leaned over, kissed me on the cheek, greeting me with, "Good morning, Dad."
I couldn't help but realize and notice what a handsome young man my son was. Dressed in the same manner as I, a pair of boxer shorts, and apparently not inhibited or embarrassed by either of us in this particular state of undress, he smiled at me, commenting, "The smell of coffee drifting through the house woke me. It really smells good."
Standing, I motioned for him to stay seated, I went back to the kitchen, placed the coffee pot, a carton of cream, and an empty cup on a tray and brought them to the porch, placing them on the little table. While he poured himself a cup, he gazed out over the lake in much the same manner as Grant and I often did when in residence.
I laughed to myself, remembering a similar warm spring day years before as Grant and I sat drinking our morning coffee. He set down his cup and suddenly announced, "Let's go for a swim" and peeled off his boxer shorts, standing before as naked as Michelangelo's "David" only with a much more pronounced and wiggly appendage. I followed his lead and off we trotted to the lake, cocks and balls wagging to and fro, up and down as we ran, giggling like two young school boys about to do something deliciously naughty. The only risk we might encounter would be some early morning fisherman, intent on catching a walleye or mess of crappies and instead, catch an eyeful of nakedness. Hearing no motors on the lake prior to our departure from the porch, the chances were remote of such an encounter.
Bounding off of the end of the dock, we both hit the water with splashes and shouts of "Shit it's cold," failing to remember it was only the end of May and the lake was just beginning to warm. It was refreshing to say the least, bringing our rapidly shrinking penises close to our bodies, seeking protection and warmth. We swam around until I announced, "Grant, I'm cold, so I think I'll get out," to which he responded, "Let me warm you."
He pulled me to himself, my back to his chest, securing me tightly in his warm arms. Holding me so I could watch the lake for any interlopers, with one hand he reached down and fondled me to an erection, and with the other, using only lake water for lubrication, guided his stiff manhood into my willing chute. My tunnel stretched, accommodating easily what was frequently embedded there, my muscles relaxing to accommodate a girth larger than my own, and the inner passage began massaging him as he passed over my prostate, fully anchoring himself in my inner core; a place I loved having him.
Resting a moment, he leaned over my shoulder, kissed me on the neck and, while nuzzling behind my ear, proclaimed his love for me. As he began gently, but deep thrusts, he murmured, "You always feel so good, so tight, warm and fulfilling." As for me, I just moaned in agreement and satisfaction.
Grant would pump for a few minutes, I would push back to secure him even tighter, bringing each of us to the edge and then retreating from it until, we both could hold our release no longer, and with one final push, a moan of pleasure erupted loudly from each of us as I seeded the lake water with my sperm and Grant spewed his hot cum deep into my bowels. As we shuddered our releases, we heard a distinct, erotic cry of, "Oh, God, yes!!!" erupt from behind us.
Grant quickly pulled out; we both spun around to see my nephew Jonathon, now a young attorney in the Madison area, and his lover, pants down around their ankles, Jonathon leaning over his lover's back, his ass twitching in the final vestiges of an intense orgasm, as he loaded up the warm tunnel encasing his shaft. Catching his breath, still buried deep, taking short little jabs into the willing partner's chute, Jonathon gasped, "Geez, Uncle Parker and Uncle Grant, watching you two in the water making love, turned us on so much, we just had to join in."
Grant and I laughed, stepping from the water to greet him and his lover, Al Martinez, Marty to us, I learned an important lesson in life; when making love in a cold lake, filled with a cock girthed as Grants, never, never, pull out or away in a hurry. The sphincter muscle of your ass takes a moment to close when stretched and opened, and during that short moment of contracting, can fill your lower bowel with cold water as efficiently as an enema administered in the hospital by a sadistic nurse.
"Oh, shit," I gasped, stepping quickly into the bushes and shit I did. It rocketed out me, rumbling, popping farts of lake water and cum until I was emptied completely. Having nothing to clean myself up with, I made a quick dash to the lake, amidst the chortling of my fellows, to rinse myself.
"It's really a great morning," Jed remarked. "Do you think the lake is warm enough to go swimming?"
I smiled to myself, considering what I'd just been remembering, when, before I could say "let's wait until afternoon," Jed gathered up his crutches, thumped across the porch, and out the door, headed for the lake. Having no idea how well he could swim, react to the cold, or get himself in and out of the water without the uses of the crutches, I scrambled after him.
I caught him just as he was about to step on the dock. "Are you certain this is a good idea?" I queried. "The lake could be rather chilly since it's still early in the season."
Jed just smiled at me, walked to the end of the dock, slid his boxers down to his ankles and stepped out of them. Laying down his crutches, while balancing on one leg, he smiled at me, motioned me forward, and said, "Come on Old Man, let's see how brave you are," and jumped in.
I quickly dropped my shorts and went in after him. I came up sputtering, expecting to see him floundering in the water; instead I met a very happy boy, grinning, and paddling around like a fish. The water was cold, really cold, but I'd be damned if I'd admit it.
"I wasn't certain you could swim," I groaned as he began to swim quite easily toward me.
"I said there were many things in physical education I couldn't do well, but it really doesn't take two legs and two feet to swim, so I did well in that particular class. I just love the water."
We swam for about fifteen minutes, just enough time to get the blood rushing, wear me out, and invigorate him. We both stopped, standing in the water chest deep, watching the sun as it warmed us and the water, when Jed let out a yelp!
"Ouch," he snorted, "something just pecked at the end of my dick!"
"Probably a sunfish," I laughed, "you're not circumcised, so I imagine it thought your foreskin was something to nibble on."
"I'm outa here," he giggled. "I'll be darned if I'm going to be a morning feast for a stinking fish. Once I know how, I'm going to come back here, catch the little devil and eat him myself."
He paddled over to the dock, pulled himself up and out of the water, retrieved his crutches, and his shorts, and began the journey back to the house. I took my time, letting him take the lead, and followed him up to the house. While he showered and readied himself for the day, I dried myself, put on clean clothes, and went to the kitchen to fix our breakfast.
When he returned dressed and ready for the day, I noticed he was not using his crutches, relying on his familiar prosthesis. If I hadn't known of the loss of his leg, I'd never guessed he was using a mechanical substitute.
"How does it feel this morning?" I asked him, nodding toward his leg.
"Fine; I knew it'd heal up once I medicated the soreness and rested it for a day."
Curious, I asked, "How often do you have to have it replaced?"
"Depending on fast I grow, usually only once a year. There were a couple of years I had to go in a couple of times. I haven't grown much this past year, so I don't think I'll have to do anything until I go in for my checkup in August before school starts. What's for breakfast?"
Just like a teenager, I mused to myself, always thinking of food first, unless they were a bit older than Jed, then the subject had nothing to do with eating at the table.
"Pancakes with maple syrup from our trees, bacon, juice, and milk."
Jed set the table and once the meal was prepared we sat down to enjoy it. Finishing, Jed asked, "What do we have planned for today?"
"Well," I responded with hesitation as I tried to organize my thoughts, "you need to contact your lawyer in Milwaukee letting him know where you are." Pausing again to ask, "Was your school dismissed for the year yet?"
A negative shake from his head, led me to continue, "Your lawyer will have to contact your school and either have them grade you out so you don't have incompletes and have to repeat a year and, if required, work out something for you to take final tests or projects. Think you can do that?"
Jed nodded again, this time in the positive, adding, "I don't think that'll be a problem. My grades were all "A's" and I was in advanced classes, but I don't want any problems when I enroll here in the fall."
"It might be a bit difficult as it is," I responded, "there are some pretty red-necked folks up here who might not take kindly to a new black student."
My son laughed, "Well, they'll just have to get over it. I'm not overly concerned; Grandma and I didn't live in the best part of the city, so I've sort had to fight my way through school, one leg at a time, so to speak. What else do we have to do?"
"I want to call Jonathon Wright, my nephew and attorney, concerning getting all the legal paper work out of the way concerning your presence here and me as your father. I want to make some changes in documents he holds for me and I want him to have your mother sign off, you know, relinquish all parental rights and authority, permanently. We may have to fork over some cash, but once she sees the green, she'll sign in a minute."
"We have to go to the bank, open an account for you, add you to my accounts, and rent a larger safety deposit box to store your bonds and paper work in. I may as well close out the small one I have and transfer everything to the larger one. With your signature on the access card and the extra key, you'll have access anytime you want. After the bank, it's off to the hardware store and pick up some handrails and other hardware so you don't take a tumble such as you did the other night."
"Finally, I need to call my sisters Roseanne and Adele and let them know of the addition to our family. Those should be very interesting telephone calls."
Table cleared, Jed used the cellphone to call his attorney in Milwaukee. Explaining the situation took longer than the decision by the attorney to get right on it. Jed indicated to me all should be right with the world in about two weeks or so, depending on how fast the school acted.
The call to Jonathon took a bit longer for me to make, since Jonathon was all agog realizing he had a cousin which, until now, never existed to him. Before I could finish explaining all I wanted to do, Jonathon interrupted me, "Uncle Parker, Marty and I will be up this next weekend, if you have room for us. I'll bring everything along we might need. Marty is also a Notary Public so he can make all documents official."
Of course I had room, one bedroom only, since Jed was occupying the other in our three bedroom house.
Ringing off, I made the next call to Roseanne and patiently began explaining how Jed came to live with me, and she too interrupted me, "Hold on, Sport; Jacob and I will be up this next weekend with the motor home. I want to meet this new nephew of mine. We'll pick up Adele and Ted on the way. Make certain the road is leveled somewhat so we can get in. I'll give Adele a call and fill her in. Have you talked to Jon about his situation?"
Assuring her I'd just finished visiting with him, she rang off quickly, evidently wanting to contact Adele post-haste. Today was Tuesday and I expected all of them to be here Friday afternoon or evening, knowing them as I did.
"This should be an interesting weekend," I announced to Jed, with some trepidation. "You're going to meet your two aunts, my sisters, and their husbands and the oldest of your first cousins." He would be overwhelmed, I thought, having so much family around him all of a sudden.
Jed smiled that million dollar smile of his, and laughing out loud, "I think you're right, it could be very interesting. Anything else today?"
I couldn't think of anything, since I thought the day was quite full, until, not getting a response from me immediately, Jed, looking me in the eyes, said softly, "Could we go up to cemetery, so you could introduce me to Grant, first?"
His question and sincerely brought tears to my eyes and warmth to my heart.
To be continued.
Thank you for reading Parker's Love -- Chapter Eight -- "The winter is past, the rain is over and gone." "Parker's Love" is a love story, a story of commitment, endurance, and intense emotional attachment; offering hope to those who feel there really is or will be someone for them to love in their lives, and now, a life alone, but not alone. I hope you enjoy it.
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