Why Won't You Commit?

"It is my problem," I cut him off. "It's the reality I may have to face if I get married and have kids with any woman. Mindy showed me a glimpse of that the night we saw Amber and the Campbell asshole together. She said not to make a scene and think of Amber's kids and not ruin her family."

"What is wrong with that?" my dad asked. "Look how your mother and I stayed together. Let me tell you, at the worse moments of us, you kids kept us focused. It's all about the kids in a family. Not all, but most of it."

"Dad, it's what she said after that bugged me and is a deal-breaker. Mindy stated that many women did what Amber was doing. And it was not just what she said, but how she said it. As if it was a common thing and for us men to just accept it. As if it was a woman's right. I had warned her how I felt about that, how she could choose to take that option after we had kids, and how I didn't want to take a chance of that happening.

"So, she changed tactics and used sex and deception to make me think she was different and that she was the one for me to trust. Yet, Mindy let me know that she would be no different than Amber down the road by excusing it in mere seconds.

"No. I am done with her. She can find another sucker to manipulate," I said, shaking my head. "You know, I had a ring in my pocket to propose to her that night?"

"Oh no!" my mother said and came to hug me.

I let her. After all, she was still my mother, and I loved her. I always will, which is why I forgave her eventually for what she did. She is the only mother I have, and unlike other women, she had asked for forgiveness and seen the light.

"I'll live," I managed to say. "You guys certainly gave me plenty to think about."

"One more thing," I said to my mother. "I need the sperm donor's name. I want nothing from him but his family medical history. It is all I need from him."

My mom wrote his name on a piece of paper.

"He used to practice in New York. I think he lives in Long Island in a suburb called Merrick. All I remember. I never kept in touch, but I'm positive it was him."

They both nodded to me as I noticed them drifting to each other. I could just imagine the range of emotions the two of them had to endure in the years since the discovery of each other's infidelity. I could not even imagine how they had faced reconciliation and recovery of their damaged marriage and keep the family together in the process.

But this was their life and their choices. As I left what had been my childhood home, I knew that I had to make my way through life from then on. I had to figure out what I wanted and how to make it happen.

***

Luke, I'm your father. No, you're not.

I'm frustrated, angry, confused, and horny as hell. All this talk of infidelity and adultery has me on edge. My mother, sister, dad, and ex-wife have all been unfaithful. What are the chances that could happen to one man? You would think that one woman in my life would have been true and chaste in their marriages.

As I sit in my apartment, I find myself aroused, but it is a strange arousal. In my demented and confused mind, I find myself imagining being the other man. In a fit of anger, I imagine being the one defiling unknown slutty adulterous women. What was it Mindy had said about one of her other men partners at the resort? Oh yes, "he fucked my brains out."

It took some time, but as I went on with my life, I decided that would be my way from now on. A mission to find and fuck women with no regard for their self-respect or their vows. If they were married, so be it.

Here's the thing, though; the obstacle to that kind of thinking. No matter how angry I was, I just could not bring myself to go pick up married women at the clubs and bang them behind their husband's backs. Each time I came close to it, I thought of my father and Reggie being cheated on and could not go on with it.

You would think that if I picked up strange women, their husbands would be unknown to me, and I could just focus on the task at hand. Nope. My conscience always got the best of me.

Frustrated and not satisfied to find a single woman for sex, I resorted to Mary Fingers taking matters "at hand" for relief. The fantasies that fueled me were of unknown married women at first. When my mind drifted to my mother and sister while jerking off, I knew I had gone over the edge and needed to get this cliff dive under control.

Checking my phone, I notice six texts and two e-mails from Mindy. The e-mails were rambling, and from right after the restaurant incident, our last date and time together. Most of her texts are the same as well: apologetic one minute, angry the next. But the last one is different.

"Luke, I know I messed up, and you have every reason to hate me. You were right. When the opportunity arose to stand on the issue, I chose your sister's side. Not only that, but I did so without thinking of it.

As you said, the temptation of a woman's full options is too strong to reject. In that instant, I thought as your sister did. I can only imagine your disappointment in me. But I can't take it back. I did it, and you will remember it forever. I know how you are.

I think it's best if we let each other find answers to what happened. My aunt in Seattle asked me to move there until I find a job. I plan on going and starting over. I will miss you like you don't know Luke. But things are how they are.

I will love you forever and hope you find some happiness.

Mindy."

***

I needed a break from it all. A vacation. A getaway. A temporary escape was more like it. I told my boss that afternoon that I was a mess and needed to take some leave before I popped a brain vessel.

"You are doing fine here at work," he said, looking up from his paperwork. "So, I'm assuming it's a personal issue?"

"Yes," I replied cryptically.

"Two weeks?" he asked. "I need you back after that."

"Sure. That should be plenty to clear my head. Thanks, boss," I replied and left the office.

"I could say kids today but I was no better at your age. I bet there is a woman involved. No, don't tell me. Just go get yourself together."

I smiled and left. He was shaking his head as I closed his door.

***

That night, I looked for and found the note my mother had written.

"Dr Niles Lieberman, Merrick, NY."

I stared at it for a long time, wondering who this man is that gave me life. I love my dad, and that will never change, but I was drawn to this Niles in a way I cannot explain. I didn't want to love him. I already have a father to love. But I realized my need to meet him.

After a few internet searches, I was successful in finding him. He still lives in Merrick, I see, but no address is listed on his professional website. Sorting through his scheduling page, I found Niles Lieberman practices in the city Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. He takes patients at a medical office in Rockville Center on Thursdays and Fridays, two towns west of Merrick. I figured that seeing him there would be better than stalking his home or catch him somewhere on the street.

Looking at appointment availabilities, I found an opening that Thursday before his designated lunch hour. It is tagged as a recent cancellation, so I clicked on it and reserved it before the slot is snatched by someone else. With that done, I looked for and made airline reservations, a hotel room, and rented a vehicle. Packing for a few days, I sat at my desk and stared at the picture of the man in a dark suit staring back at me. The resemblance is uncanny.

I noticed that we have the same eyes, nose, chin, and even similar slight smiles. The only difference is our eyes. I have my mother's green-grey pigment while his are darker, possibly brown. While there are surprisingly few grey hairs on his temples, they made him look distinguished. He is very handsome.

Looking online and on social media, I found an account tagged Niles Lieberman on Facebook. Just a few glances at his pictures, and I can tell it is him. And he had plenty of photos to browse through.

At first, there were images of his family. I noticed a redheaded woman that is his wife. Then his two daughters. One redhead is like mom, while the other has a long dark mane and looks like her father. There are usually pictures of family dinners and graduations. The man has had a good life and fortune. Their home has a long driveway, plenty of gardening, and three garage doors. I'm reminded of the phrase by one of my bosses of the upscale area he lives in.

"If you have three garages in Mayville, you have better have three expensive cars to put in them to match the pool and tennis court."

And sure enough, Niles and his wife Brenda are avid tennis players and have a pool. Pictures of my half-sisters swimming in their bikinis are typical of girls their age. But Brenda is stunning in a one-piece suit. Niles is fit himself. He belonged to a swim club, and I noticed that he was a swimmer in college.

In a separate album, there are older pictures of him at a college swim event. The guy was undoubtedly buff and packed in his speedo. It makes me wonder if that was what made mom take notice. He oozes confidence. I have inherited his genes for sure, as I have a similar body and package size. At least he did something good for me.

Moving to an album tagged "conferences," I froze. Right there, I saw a picture of approximately thirty people staring at the camera. Each of them is labelled, including Niles on the top left and my mother on the right. She is sitting slightly sideways, wearing shorts and exhibiting her long legs and other assets. Everyone is smiling at the staged photo. Most of the women and men are fit and appealing. I wondered how many of the men my mother slept with. Did she spread it around all the times she was away from home, or did she have favourites?

Looking in that album, I find other pictures like it from different conferences. Twice a year, there are many. And both Niles and my mom are in the photos. Then the date of one caught my eye.

The location was a Florida Keys hotel, explaining the matching shorts and t-shirts they all are wearing with its logo. The image is dated October 1992, making me take notice. Nine months before I am born. Mom is sitting next to Niles!

I move forward to six months later at their next seminar. San Diego this time, and my mother is clearly pregnant and flaunting it. She stood sideways, smiling at the camera as Niles stands on the other side of the picture with arms crossed and sporting the same smirk I often have in some of my photographs. He looks like a spitting image of me!

***

I drove out of JFK International Airport and let the GPS guide me toward the Long Island hotel I' was to stay at. It was the night before my appointment with Niles Lieberman, and sleep was hard to come by and fitful. I woke to a nightmare around six AM. Thankfully, in seconds I could remember it. I took a shower and tried to calm down. But it is not easy. My hands shook when I had breakfast at a nearby Greek Diner. They are everywhere on the east coast.

"You're not from New York, are you?" the shapely waitress asked.

I can't make out her age. I guess her to be anything from twenty-eight to thirty-two. Some women are just timeless to me. Her body was stunningly tight, and she had a friendly smile. Her jet-black hair was cut to just the beginning of her pretty neck. When I looked at her hands, she realized what I am looking for.

"No, sweetheart," she giggles. "I'm not married. And even if I was, we don't wear our rings while we work. They get in the way. I notice you are single."

"I am. My name is Luke."

"Celia," she replies. "Nice to meet you, Luke."

The smile she gives me says she is interested. And not having had a woman in a while, I have interest in her to spare.

But before I can say anything, she leans over as if to refill my cup.

"I get off at four in the afternoon. If you are here when I do, we can do something together. If not, here is my cell number. Call me, and we can get together later. Does that sound good?"

From the way we look at each other, we both know it is more than "good."

"Are all women like you in New York?" I ask with the smile I inherited from Niles.

"No, Luke," she replies, standing straight. "I'm unique and special. See you at four. If not, you won't know what you are missing."

As I watched her shapely ass and legs sashay to other tables, I was liking New York. Celia, at least.

Smiling at her before I left, I received a similar response and her mouthing a single word: four. Unless something happened, I planned on making that date.

***

I was early for my appointment with Dr Niles Lieberman. His receptionist, a beautiful black woman in her mid-twenties, stared at me for a few seconds, then confirmed my name and insurance information. But I could tell she had noticed the resemblance between the good doctor and myself.

"You are all checked in," she replied, taking the forms I had filled. "There is a fifteen dollar copay."

"Thank you... Luanda," I said, reading the nameplate on her desk before handing her my credit card.

Her curiosity was peaked, but she did not ask the obvious question. As I sat across from her in the waiting room, she stared back with her pleasant ebony face more than once. If I weren't planning on meeting Celia later on, Luanda would be an attractive person to get to know. Yes, I've done black and planned to go back. Don't judge.

In five minutes, the door opened for a heavyset man in his thirties to come out.

"Mr Stanton," Luanda said with a head shake as if I had done something wrong. "The doctor will see you now?"

"Thank you, Luanda," I said, walking past her and giving her "the" smile.

It was then she put two and two together, and her mouth dropped open.

"Oh, my God!" she blurted out. "You're his..."

I placed a finger over my lips to her and went through the door, glad she had not figured it out before and warned him.

"Please sit down," I heard a voice remarkably like mine from a side room. "I'll be right there. I'm doctor Lieberman. I see you are a new patient from out of state. What brought you here?"

But I didn't sit. Instead, I stood waiting for Niles to return. When I peeked in, he had been standing by a printer, so we did not make eye contact. But when he turned around, he froze, staring at me.

"I have to be honest," I replied. "I have a unique case that only you can help me with."

He offered his hand cautiously, still staring at me in amazement. It had to be more shocking to him than me. After all, I knew what was going on. He did not.

"If you won't sit, I will, Mr Stanton."

"Please call me Luke," I said, sitting on the other side of the desk.

I know he wanted to ask but was hesitant to do so.

"Please sit. Ok. So what can I do for you today?"

"I have a problem," I reply.

"It's what I'm here for. Talk to me."

"See, my parents and I had a conversation recently. And it has left me with many questions."

"Excuse me, Mr Stanton."

"Have you and I met before?"

"No. I can guarantee you that," I reply. "But I think you know my mother."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, Dr Lieberman," I replied, opening a folder I had with me.

He stared with curiosity as I took out a picture of my mother around the time I was born. I also had printed image copies of her and him together from his Facebook picture gallery. They are from both conferences, both before and after mom's baby bump. Placing them before him, I looked as he stared at all three and then up at me.

"Are you? Are you and Joyce related?" he asked. "It is obvious you, and I are."

"My mother is pregnant with me in that picture. Niles. You don't mind if I call you that do you?"

"Go right ahead," he said, staring at the pictures.

Neither of us said anything about the 800-pound gorilla in the room, but we both knew we would sooner or later.

"Are you... are you my son?" Niles asked.

"I am the product of that October 92 weekend," I replied. "But William Stanton is my father."

"I see," he said, staring at me at first, then nodding. The pictures, seemingly forgotten as he looked at the form with my information. "Can I call you Luke?"

"Yes," I replied. "Formalities are kind of silly at this point. Don't you think?"

"I agree," he replied, shaking his head. "I never knew..."

"Mom never told you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Not in all the years we have gone to the same conferences and seminars out of town. Never."

"I have to ask, were you and her regular lovers or just one of many?"

Niles flinched at my forwardness, but to his credit, he nodded, accepting my right to ask.

"Well... the group we were in began the tradition of liaisons between out-of-town attendees years before us. Back in the sixties, we were told. When we younger people started attending, the others were used to it and brought us into the fold. Has your mother explained any of it to you?"

"A general idea. Since my father was present, she didn't go into lurid details."

"Understandable," he replied. "So, I gather your... father. William, right if I remember correctly?"

"Yes," I acknowledge. "Dad figured it out early. No one in our family had jet black hair."

"And he stayed with her and raised you?"

"My father is a good man," I said, straightening in my chair. "An exceptional man."

"Quite, I'm sure," Niles said, looking back at the pictures. "The last time I saw your mother was five months ago. She never said a thing."

"Do you two... still get together at conferences?"

"No, not for quite some time," he replied. "But we are still good friends and colleagues. As we got older, I guess we both joined the non-participating group at the conferences. It happens. I knew she had children, but she never mentioned anything to me about... this. How long has she known? I mean, how..."

"They both suspected but skirted the issue for some time. Dad was suspicious and had my sister and I DNA tested. She is his. You were apparently my sperm donor."

Niles looked at me, weighing my description of him but not reacting. I wonder if I would have been able to do so in his situation. In some ways, he reminds me of mom when she analyzes people. It must be something they learned in those seminars, amongst other things.

"I can tell you are still dealing with the revelations. How long ago did they tell you about me?"

"Two weeks," I said, sitting back. "We had some family issues with my sister, and it came up."

"All this time!" he said, looking up at the ceiling for a few seconds. "Why didn't she say anything?"

"My parents dealt with this over a decade ago from what they told me. It turns out that my father had also cheated on her, and they both came clean. Apparently, after two years of counselling, they managed to patch things up."

"I didn't even know she was married when she and I first hooked up. Joice was Ms Stanton. Back in those days, professional women were all about using that title, and lord helped the man who questioned it. It never occurred to me to ask."

"What about when she showed up pregnant next time?"

Niles was quiet for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts.

"It's hard to explain Luke. It was a different time when people were trying to shed old notions of marriage and sexual morals. We were all participating in sexual promiscuity. Everyone assumed that some of us were married, but no one placed other people in that uncomfortable position to confirm they were adulterous.

"We just assumed that we all had loved ones back home, and the conferences were a vacation from our regular lives. No one advertised it either. We would socialize, dance and then pair off or not. I'm sure some people, like myself and your mother, chose to stop having dalliances for personal reasons. No one asked.