A Most Graceful Life Ch. 10

Stephen felt his ears starting to turn red, anger rising in his throat, "You have three sons to show for that love," he counter-argued quietly. "From what you are saying, you never had real love in the first place."

Jerry ignored him and continued on, "I thought I had love recently too. One of the new girls at the company, Brittany. Been seeing her for a couple months. But you make one tiny, little mistake, and get caught screwing another girl, and all of a sudden, you're the bad guy! Where is love then, son? She didn't love me after that."

Stephen's brow furrowed, his anger continuing, "Can you blame her? Why would she continue to love you after you cheated on her?"

Jerry chuckled, as if the question was too naive to consider a real answer, "Because that's just how it is, Stephen! We're men, you know! We have to get out there and sow our wild oats before settling down. That's all I was doing! Getting laid is meaningless, anyway."

The argument for sowing oats was entirely lost on Stephen. Especially coming from a man that was in his mid forties.Wasn't sowing your oats something for younger men, anyway?

"I wouldn't agree with that. When you love someone, why would you want to get laid with anyone else," he argued, before squeezing Grace's hand. She squeezed back tenderly. The look on her face told him that she had about enough of listening to this moron. Sadly, Stephen began to understand that's what is father truly was: a moron. A pitiful excuse for a man who left his family because he couldn't control his impulses. Someone who cared nothing for anyone but himself.

In that moment, Stephen's anger almost turned to sympathy. He felt sorry for the man. Not only because they were related by blood, but because his story should be one of caution: how not to act. It was entirely disheartening to see the place that Jerry Willow was in. No job, no girlfriend or wife, no relationship with his own sons. Yet, sitting in this cramped diner with his oldest son who was trying to sprout sense into him seemed to have little effect.

Jerry's eyes drifted back and forth between himself and Grace, before revealing an ugly sneer, "Yeah, I'm sure son. Don't worry, you'll find out one day, no doubt." He reached forward and patted Stephen's hand in a condescending manner. Stephen fought the urge to form a fist.

"It's okay. He doesn't deserve it." Stephen felt the weight of Grace's words on his mind. He let himself relax his fist. Letting out an audible sigh, he tried to loosen up. Thankfully, their food arrived in that moment, interrupting the flow of the conversation. Stephen looked down at the saddest looking cheeseburger he had ever seen, with fries that were way over well done, both of which looked nothing like the menu. He found himself making the same comparison with his own father. The only difference was that the cheeseburger was temporary. Jerry would always be his father.

"Here we go, a good old fashioned American cheeseburger," chuckled Jerry, before grabbing it and taking a bite. He had no problem with the poor quality of the food. Based upon his bad luck of lately, and his old clothing, Stephen wondered if he had gotten used to poor quality food due to lack of funds. His pity flared again. "Marvelous!" he exclaimed after the first mouthful.

A few bites into the meal, Jerry dropped his fork, as if the most incredible idea just came to him. "I got it! I have a great idea." He turned to Grace, "Since you don't have a job or anything, why don't you come out with me to Denver, Grace? I have a friend, Fat Tony DeAngelo, who's in the modeling business. We'll see if we can get you a real job doing some type of modeling! Of course, you can split accommodations with me to save money," he chuckled, the lecherous grin plastered back on his face.

Stephen ground his teeth, angered at the obvious come on from his own father. His hand clenched again, the anger boiling just below the surface. Thankfully, Grace managed to put him into his place.

"No, thank you," she replied calmly, yet firmly. "I have no desire to go anywhere in close company with you."

Jerry sneered first, and then, absorbing the weight of her words, lashed out in anger, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Stephen, your girl has a real mouth on her!"

"I can't say I blame her. I wouldn't want to go with you either. Especially not after today," replied Stephen, a weight lifting off his shoulders as he finally said what he was really thinking.

His father's anger now focused directly on him. "Is that how you talk to your own father, boy? If anything, I'm offering her an opportunity to make some money!"

"What you're offering here it the opportunity to be near you so you can try to sleep with her, too. Do you really know anyone in the modeling business? I seriously doubt it. And you haven't been able to keep your eyes off her chest the entire time we've been here," Stephen pointed out, feeling his voice rise.

"I'm only trying to protect you, son!" Jerry spat, putting a condescending tone of the word son. "Look at her, and then look at you!" He turned to look at Grace, "what's your scam, sweetheart? Take him for a ride and then steal his grocery store paycheck?" He looked directly back at Stephen, a sneer curled into his upper lip, "You gotta be careful with these gold-digging types, Stephen. Your dick isn't the only thing they'll suck dry. Your bank account as well!"

"ENOUGH!" Stephen yelled, causing the entire dinner to come to a complete stop. Just about every eye in the place was now on him. He practically jumped out of the booth they were in, Grace shuffling along beyond him, her eyes just as dark and angry. God help whoever managed to piss off a genie this much.

"I don't want to see you, ever again," roared Stephen, finally getting the chance to verbalize his thoughts. "You're an asshole, a loser, and a total piece of shit. The fact that I share the same blood as someone such as you will forever be a low point of my life. You will not talk about someone as wonderfully kindhearted, and as loving as Grace! You know nothing about her, just like you know nothing about me! And you would know, if you showed up more than once an election cycle!"

"But you don't. You don't give a shit about your children. You probably never gave a shit about your own wife! All you care about is yourself. You're a miserable excuse for a father, for a husband, and for a man! To think, I once agonized over my own father leaving us behind. I thought it had something to do with me, some defect, that made you not want us! I see now that's just who you are: a miserable excuse for a human being that will die alone, unloved and forgotten by all!"

Stephen pulled his wallet out, and placed a couple of twenties on the table. Looking around, the entire diner was looking at him like he had lost his mind. It meant nothing to him, anyway. Jerry Willow looked at him with not sadness or introspection, but rather with contempt. His hopes of any of his words sinking in and making his father think about his actions slowly drifted away.

"That should cover the meal. Have a nice life, jackass," said Stephen, taking Grace firmly by the hand and walking out of diner.

They walked in silence for the first hundred yards outside the diner. Thankfully, there was a sidewalk that lined the way back towards their neighborhood, so they didn't need to walk on the road. Although it was a five minute drive, it would probably take about thirty minutes just to get back to the house. Stephen was fine with that, because it would give him a chance to cool down.

Grace held on tightly to his hand as they walked, choosing to remain silent until he wanted to speak. By the look on his face, he was still angry about the turn of events. She choose to give her silent support, and let him open up when he wanted to talk.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," Stephen said, finally, after they were about halfway home.

"You have nothing to apologize for, baby," she responded, softly, squeezing his hand.

"I've wanted for so long to have a relationship with my father. To have him be a real dad, the kind that I needed. I told myself every excuse in the book: that maybe him and my mom were just not right together, and that's why they divorced. That he was really busy, and that's why he didn't come around more often, and why I almost never heard from him. But I see now why that is. He doesn't care about me, or the twins. Doubtful if he ever cared about my mom. The only thing he cares about is himself."

"I'm sorry, Stephen," Grace whispered, gently.

Stephen looked over at her, the pain evident in his gaze, "Maybe you were right. Maybe I was switched in the hospital."

Grace smiled, "I don't think so. You're too much like your mom, a good person to the core. You're the image of your grandfather, the man who really raised you. Thankfully, there's little in you of that man back there."

"What if there is more to it than that, Grace?" Stephen asked, lowering his eyes to the pavement. "What if he didn't start out that way? I mean, my mom is a good judge of character. What if he started out good, but just became worse with time? What if I'm doomed to have the same thing happen to me? I couldn't stand that, Grace."

Grace shook her head fiercely, "I don't believe that could ever happen. I've seen your soul, Stephen. You're not him." She stopped firmly, begging him to look at her, just before they entered their neighborhood. "Stephen, my portal waited for you for twenty five hundred years. It took that long to find a man worthy enough. You are that man. You have no reason to doubt yourself, my love."

"I just don't understand how he could be like that. I don't get it, Grace. For all these years, I knew he was no saint, but I just thought maybe he was misunderstood. Now, I see it for what it is. The only person lacking understanding was me."

"I think someday he'll come to regret what just passed between you two," said Grace, as they neared the driveway to the house. "It may take him a long time, but it will hit him someday. He had a chance to have a real family, and he squandered it. Something tells me it will be the thing he regrets the most about his life some day."

Stephen just shook his head, not trusting his voice to respond to her words. The pain was too raw still.

"Stephen, wait a moment," Grace turned to face him again, taking his hands in both of hers, "For what it's worth, you were very brave back there. I can't imagine how hard it must be to take a stand to your own father. But you stood up for me, and for yourself too, and I can't tell you how happy it made me. I love you so much." She willingly pressed her lips to his, her tongue seeking his own.

"Thanks, Grace," he replied after the kiss ended, letting her words wash over him. While the pain was still raw, it did feel good to stand up for the both of them. So many things he had wanted to say, but long since repressed, bubbled to the surface during their time in the diner. Giving a quick toss of his head, he was ready to move on, and put it firmly in the past, where it belonged.

It was later in the evening by the time they finally reached home. The twins were already home, and had set up in his room to play his Xbox like they had a hundred times before. Intending to be alone with Grace, Stephen politely kicked them out, and watched their sullen looks as they returned to their own room.They may be mad at me now, but at least they didn't have to go through what I just did, he thought to himself.

The end of the day couldn't come fast enough for Stephen, and soon enough, it was time to crawl into bed to get some sleep. Changing into his bedtime clothes, he crawled between the blankets and waited for Grace to join him.

Like usual, Grace let her regular clothes slowly separate from her body, leaving her nude for a split second before a small pair of green panties and a white tank top appeared on her body, her usual sleeping wear of choice. She bounded into bed, taking a moment to pepper him with kisses in a playful manner, before setting into his side. Grace reached for his arm, pulling it in tight across her body, and tugging his hand underneath her bountiful breasts until they were locked into their preferred spooning position. Once comfortable, Grace let out a little sigh of approval.

"What a day," Stephen whispered, low against her light brown hair. There was nothing he loved more than nuzzling his nose against her brown locks and inhaling the pleasant scent of jasmine contained underneath.

"It wasn't all that bad, right?" She murmured back, turning her head to catch a part of his eyes.

"No, no it wasn't," he agreed, pulling her in close. "I'm so glad we got that apartment together. The first part of today was amazing."

"We're going to live together, officially now," she whispered in a giddy manner. "Then we can be a real family together, just us."

"You're sure that's what you want, right?"

Grace turned back to look at him, catching his lips to devour in a long, slow kiss. "More than you know," she whispered, tenderly.

Stephen smiled, and settled his head back down against her hair. Before he knew it, he was sleeping.

Grace took a little longer to sleep, so joyous at the idea of their future starting this morning, and getting their own place together. She smiled at the big change to their lives that it would be, the start of something new, and fresh, and full of promise. Remembering another big change, her hand drifted down from her hip across her belly. She almost purred in delight when she came to rest just above her belly button, a few inches above the spot where Stephen's child was already growing inside her.

About six weeks now, she mused to herself, remembering the night they had conceived. Such a beautiful night, the night of Jack and Shelly's wedding, when Stephen had told her to forgo the magical protection she usually had in place to prevent such a creation. Yet, it was almost as if Stephen had forgotten he had even made the wish, or perhaps had drank too much that evening to even attempt to remember. Yet, the result was still the same. Grace knew that he would be ecstatic at her pregnancy when he found out.

The only question was when to tell him? It was early still, so very early on in her condition that she wasn't yet under a time constraint to do so before nature gave away the answer for her. Yet, with today's events with his father swimming dangerously in his mind, she wanted to wait until he was in a better place mentally to handle such news. Perhaps give him a few days, or up to a week, to forget about the encounter with his real father.Yes, that seems reasonable, she agreed internally, before letting her hand drop again.

She let herself drift off to sleep shortly after, a small smile ever present as sleep took her.

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Stephen woke the next morning to the sound of thunderstorms. Severe flashes of lightning, and accompanying thunder, disturbed his dreamless slumber, and cast him wide awake at an earlier hour than he would normally awake.

At least Grace was still sleeping pleasantly, a small smile plastered on her lips. He wondered what she was dreaming about, to leave such happy gaze on her lips. Knowing Grace, she was probably dreaming about some kind of illicit or exciting sexual romp. Stephen let his mind wander to an idea of Grace trying to persuade him to have sex in front of a stage, with a real audience. He chuckled, knowing the exhibitionist in her would enjoy that, even if they had the cloak of anonymity.

Not able to go back to sleep, he laid still in the earlier morning hours, enjoying the feel of her warm body pressed against his. He was still in a mood from last night, or he would surely take advantage of her, letting his fingers tease and roam her body until she awakened. Yet, last night's dinner still focused prominently in his thoughts.

He just couldn't believe how he could have been so wrong about his father. It was clear to him now, the level of apathy that Jerry Willow had for his children, but to go so far as to insult Grace in the process was crossing a red line for Stephen. A satisfied smile formed on his lips as he remembered the verbal onslaught that occurred after he had made those rude comments. Stephen had to wonder whether he would ever see his father again.

Grace seemed to think there would be reconciliation at some point in the future, but Stephen just couldn't see it. If his father was so heavily stuck in his ways through the majority of his life, how could he ever hope to change?

Stephen cast the thought aside as Grace began to awaken. This was one of his favorite moments of all time, these mornings where he woke up before she did. Her eyes always did the cutest of flutters right before popping open, and her body would stretch out, warming up her muscles that had slept the entire night. Once she caught sight of his face, recognition would blare on her mind, and she would break out in the prettiest of smiles. Stephen loved her early morning smiles the most.

"Good morning, baby," she whispered, catching her first view of him in the morning light.

"Morning, love," returned Stephen, leaning down to kiss her deeply. She responded eagerly, pressing into his kiss, as she had always done before. It was always the best start to any day.

As the morning truly began in earnest, he started to hear the sounds of an occupied kitchen, which meant his mother was already up and about. Giving Grace one last kiss before she disappeared into the air around them as per their morning ritual, Stephen looked forward to the day, a week from now, when that petty charade could end, and they needn't disguise their living conditions from anyone.

Padding out into the kitchen, he found his mother already sitting at the kitchen table, a tall cup of coffee in one hand, and the newspaper in the other. As soon as she heard him coming, she dropped the paper, and turned her attention to her eldest son.

"Good morning, dear," she smiled awkwardly, as if there was something big being left unsaid. Stephen picked up on it instantly, the very idea prickling him inwardly.

"Morning, Mom," he said, and poured himself a cup of coffee to sit down with her. Almost as soon as he neared the table, she bounded up from her spot and wrapped him in a long, motherly hug.

"Mom? Everything okay?" He asked in a muffled fashion, still encased tightly against her.

"I'm so sorry, Stephen. So sorry about yesterday," she began, as she let go long enough to look him in the eyes.

"Oh, so you know about him stopping here?" Stephen replied, sullenly.

Theresa nodded. "The bastard showed up at the hospital after he saw you. He almost had security called on him for making a scene of himself. From what I gathered before his hasty exit, something major had occurred with you. But you were already sleeping by the time I got home last night."

Stephen nodded, and told her the entire tale of what happened the prior day, from the moment that his father had rung the doorbell. He spared no detail, presented every scrap of conversation that he could remember, even the final scene at the diner before they stormed out. His mother listened enthralled, taking in every detail with no interruption, and just let him tell the story as he lived it.

"That's about it," Stephen finished. "Grace and I just walked home after that. I didn't want any more to do with him."

"That cold-hearted bastard," Theresa repeated, anger flaring in her eyes. "That no-good, worthless asshole!"

"It's okay, Mom," said Stephen, reaching forward to pat her hand. "I don't think he's going to be coming around anytime soon, now."

"I should hope not," she snorted. "All he wanted was to ask for money anyway. He had the gall to try to extort money from me at the hospital last night. Then, he even tried to threaten going back to court for alimony! He did a complete about-face on that subject, refusing to even consider supporting me when we divorced. What a jackass!"