The Parental Evolution

Chapter 1

Galveston, December 2013

It had been an emotional evening. Missy was sleeping upstairs after her labour, and Mary couldn't stop looking over at her tiny grandson. He'd worn himself out in the end – she knew he would. She looked up at the sound of footsteps coming in, and smiled as her younger son came to sit down beside her.

'Oh, he's asleep. Finally, a bit of peace!' Sheldon sounded exasperated, but Mary still caught the proud, slightly awed look in his eyes as he looked over towards the cot.

'Yeah, just like his Momma,' she replied, with a smile.

'After all I did, I ought to be the one asleep!'

'After all you done?' Mary laughed. Men had no idea. She noticed something fluffy then, that Sheldon was turning over in his hands, seemingly unsure what to do with it.

'What you got there, hon?'

'Oh…it's…just something I found in the loft…'

'Aw, that's sweet, honey!' Mary exclaimed, taking the soft, well-loved stuffed koala. 'I remember him…ya wouldn't sleep without him!'

'Yeah…well…' Sheldon looked embarrassed. 'If he was still crying, I thought that might stop it.'

'I'm sure he'll sleep all the better for havin' a little friend!' Mary smiled, tucking the koala in gently.

'I certainly hope so. Oh, and mother? You really need to work on establishing a more streamlined storage system up there. I mean, in what universe does old correspondence fit with children's toys?'

'Old correspondence?' Mary asked, noticing something else Sheldon had.

'Yes, now I suggest we set tomorrow morning aside to…'

'Shelly, let me see that,' she said, interrupting her son's lecture on organisation. Looking somewhat miffed, he handed over the bundle of letters.

'Oh my…' Mary took a shaky breath. She hadn't seen these letters in over thirty years. 'Do you know what these are?'

'No, I was planning on classifying them properly in conjunction with any others up there tomorrow.'

Mary traced a finger over a worn envelope, lost in thought. Maybe…there were things Shelly ought to know about that time, things he ought to know about them…maybe, they'd help. She thought of the young lady she'd met during the cat episode a few years back, who'd taken the trouble to call and ask how to make her boy's favourite meal, who adored him like no other. Maybe, knowing what happened would help him understand what happened between them wasn't Sheldon's fault, and he could move things along with her – like he really wanted to.

But preferably with a ring on her finger first.

'They're from your Daddy. To me. Now, I know how you remember things…'

'Of course I 'remember' things. I have an eidetic…'

'Yeah, yeah, that memory thing!' Mary didn't want her flow interrupted. 'What I'm sayin', is I know things weren't good between me an' your Daddy growin' up, but these letters here, that's your proof it weren't always like that.'

Sheldon looked blank. 'Your point being?'

'There was a time when it was good. An' I'm gonna tell you how. An' then, I'm gonna tell you why what happened weren't your fault,' Mary continued, her eyes on his.

'An' when I'm done, I hope you gonna understand that things don't have to be that way with you,' she finished, almost daring him to move.

Sheldon wanted to get back to the loft. Maybe that classification couldn't wait. But he knew that look in his mother's eyes, and knew he couldn't win.

'Fine!' He really did sound exasperated now, but sat back anyway. 'What happened?'

Galveston, September 1976

18 year old George Cooper wasn't one for musicals. Even so, here he was, having been dragged across town to watch his cousin, who belonged to some 'theatre' group, in West Side Story – as if he didn't have anything better to do than watch would-be drama queens. Once his character got shot, George was bored. Staring off into the middle distance, he worked on an improbable scenario that involved Britt Ekland knocking at his door and begging him to take her to some motel and have his way with her. He was dimly aware that one song had finished and a small group of people were gathering on stage. He lazily flicked his gaze over to them – and forgot about Britt Ekland.

At the side of the stage, one of the generic girlfriends of either a Shark or a Jet, took her place. George found his pulse speeding up and breathing grow somewhat erratic as he took in every detail of the young dark haired woman. A long ponytail fell over her left shoulder and wore a big skirt with some sort of stiff petticoat underneath and a tight shirt. She looked no different to the others, in many ways, but once he'd seen her, couldn't focus on anyone else.

After the show, George had hung around the stage for as long as he could, but she didn't come out before they had to leave. He was quiet on the journey back, regretting that he didn't even know her name.

'What you got to say to her anyway?' he thought moodily as they arrived home. She'd probably met her boyfriend straight after. Being on his High School Football team, he had a pretty good choice of girls, and yet somehow, he was thinking about this one rather than any cheerleader.

The following week, school started. It was George's final year, and there were more changes than those that usually came at the beginning of a new year. Some months back, it had been decided that his school was to merge with another in the same district, and it came as something of a shock to start somewhere else. Not that he intended anyone to see that. In an attempt to appear unfazed in front of these unfamiliar kids on their own turf, George swaggered into his new classroom…and promptly banged his knee on a desk. Sitting there, two steps in front of him, there she was.

'Whatcha doin? Catchin' flies?' The girl's voice startled George back to reality, and he reddened at the amused, irreverent smile on her face.

'Uh, nothin',' muttered the tall young man.

'You one of the new kids?' she continued, leaning forward on her desk.

'Umm, yeah…' George gathered himself enough to plonk himself at the neighbouring desk. 'Uh…you look like this girl I saw a couple weeks back…'

'Yeah?' The amused look didn't leave her face. 'Where?'

'You know Jed Cooper? West Side Story at the YMCA?'

'Yeah, I know Jed!' She almost said it too brightly for George's liking. 'You saw that?'

'Did I see you?'

'Yeah…' She smiled. 'Reckon you did…hey, what's your name?'

'George.' She smiled at the way his bright blue eyes twinkled as he looked back at her, and for the first time, felt a little shy. 'An' who're you?'

'I'm Mary.'

'Nice to meet ya Mary!' George replied, with a flash of his usual bravado. It really was.

For the rest of the week, George continued to seek out Mary at every opportunity, and she found herself starting to look forward to seeing him. She showed him around his new school, and by the end of the week had made excuses to their friends at lunch and gone off by themselves down by the football pitch.

'Reckon I'm gonna try out for the team here,' George said, hoping to impress her.

'Yeah? You play?' Mary didn't have much interest in football, but she liked the young man's attention. So that's where you got that butt…

'Better'n any of those kids!' He indicated a group of guys playing nearby. Mary felt his confidence, and heat on the back of her neck that had nothing to do with the warm day.

'Well, maybe I'll come see you sometime,' she offered. 'You know – if you're that good!' Dipping his gaze to the buttons running down her blouse, George determined to prove he was.

The days and weeks went by, and before long, Betty Roberts noticed the difference in her daughter. She had a light in her eyes that she'd only seen a few times in her life, and knew what it meant. Looking over at Mary, fussing over her make-up and hair hours before school, she couldn't resist.

'So what's his name?' she asked gently as Mary came to sit down.

Mary blushed. There was no hiding anything from her. 'George,' she admitted. 'One of the new kids…'

Betty smiled. 'So we gonna meet him?'

'Maybe…' She certainly hoped so.

Just before Christmas, George found himself on the porch of Mary's house, sweating profusely in spite of the cooler days. He'd never cared too much if a girl's family liked him or not. This was different, and he dreaded making a bad impression. Sitting near her, and not touching her, was getting increasingly difficult, and the tension he was under was clear in his face.

'Well, now,' Betty exclaimed after they'd eaten. 'Wasn't there somethin' out back you wanted me for, Joe?'

Joe Roberts leaned back in his chair. He knew what his wife was doing, but he hadn't quite finished apprising the boy who'd caught his daughter's eye.

'So Mary tells me you plannin' to work in the oil industry?' His voice was soft, but he needed to know some more.

'Yes Sir,' George replied, remembering his manners. 'Hopin' to get apprentice technician at Exxon.'

Joe nodded approvingly, and Mary flashed him a proud smile. She'd come to discover that almost in spite of himself, George was pretty good at what she termed 'that Sciencey stuff', even if he'd much rather be out of the classroom than in it.

He was just about to leave, when he saw his chance. 'Uh, Mary?'

'Yeah?' She drew a little closer.

'You know we got that dance thing comin' up?'

She nodded, and slightly bit her lip. She had no idea that lip bite drove him crazy.

'So you wanna go?' he asked, in a rush. 'You know, together?'

'When you say 'together'…?'

George looked her straight in the eyes then, with an intensity to his gaze that made her almost dizzy.

'Like my girl.' There was no way she couldn't be, not now.

Christmas came and went, and the days grew longer as the year swung slowly back to summer. The time passed in a happy blur for the young couple, culminating in passion filled kisses at Prom. Pressed up against him on one side and the wall on the other, Mary wrapped her arms around him in the darkened, empty classroom and moaned at his urgent caress.

'Don't go 'way, Mary…' George had pleaded earlier. 'Don't wantcha to…'

The hardness and heat of his body against her made it tempting to agree with him, but arrangements had been made, and Mary left a couple of days later to spend a month visiting various relatives scattered across Oklahoma as planned, while George started his apprenticeship.

That summer, he often thought of one evening in particular. His uncle had given them a few bottles of his home made strawberry wine. George wasn't really a wine drinker - beers and bourbon were more his style – but maybe Mary was. Ladies liked fancy wine, didn't they?

'So you wanna go home?' he'd asked, as they drew apart from a kiss. 'Got somethin' for you,' he continued, pulling the bottle out from under his seat.

Mary's eyes sparkled in the light of the street lamp opposite. 'George Cooper, are you trying to seduce me?'

George grinned. He loved how she came straight out with things, and so could he. 'You bet your ass I am!'

They'd driven down the beach that night, and strawberry tasting kisses had led to tentative explorations under her shirt, and her hand slipping his belt buckle and gently caressing hot, hard skin inside. By the time she was due to leave though, by time Prom came along, they wanted more.

Collapsing back into his mattress now, George's breathing was harsh and fast as it was that night, and his heart pounded as thoughts of her rushed him to an uncontrollable, explosive release. A few nights after she came back, the couple found themselves at the beach again, the second bottle forgotten as they wrapped their bodies around each other, pulling at shirts, buckles, buttons. The warm night, almost a year from the day they met, was still, with waves lapping gently at the shore.

Their eyes shone bright under the stars, and never broke one another's gaze as their clothing fell in a couple of messy heaps, and their kisses grew urgent and raw as their hands claimed one another for their own. Panting hard, Mary drew back, asking the question she didn't need to put into words.

'Right here,' George answered, his heart pounding as he retrieved his wallet. 'You sure?'

'Yeah…now…' She couldn't say any more, and watched transfixed as George fiddled with the small foil packet. Her gaze made him slightly nervous – he'd never done this before – but how hard could it be, he thought, grinning at the choice of words.

'OK, ready…' he breathed then. That felt OK…bit fiddly, but…what the hell?

Mary sat up slowly, and unbuttoned her shorts. Keeping her eyes on him, she slid them gently down over her slim hips, carelessly dragging her knickers with them. She heard George moan slightly, and saw him reach for himself.

'Like what ya see?' she asked, in a whisper, and continued to peel off her bra, its flimsy material the only barrier left.

'Can't ya tell?' George asked in return, gently parting her toned, tanned thighs and kneeling inside them. Mary let out a few shaky breaths at the sensation. Oh yeah. She could tell.

'Yeah…oh…now, please…' She tensed suddenly as one finger ran over her, seeking the tight, wet bud that made her shake and wetter still. Her moans came faster as his rhythm intensified, and then, still dazed from the release that soaked the blanket beneath them, almost pulled George into her. Bucking hard, fast, he laid roughed kisses on the soft skin of her breasts, pushing deeper inside as her cries drove him on. The tension inside him was becoming unbearable, blowing up like a summer storm that suddenly cracked the sky.

With one last cry, he collapsed onto her, heart racing, chest shaking. She was his. Wrapping his arms around her, George just held Mary for a while, as they slowly remembered who they were. As he did so, George voiced the only thought he was able to express.

'My Mary. Love ya so much…'

'I love you too…' Her words were slower than usual, from far away.

It was only a couple of minutes later, when Mary shifted slightly to sit up, that something felt a bit – odd. Gently, her own fingers searched lower and felt something just inside.

'Uh, George?' she asked, uncharacteristically embarrassed. 'Is it meant to do that?'

'What?'

'Feels like it…sorta slipped off…'

George looked down at the wet latex she held by her fingertips. A shot of panic hit him. No, it wasn't.

'Uh, you know, that happens sometimes…it's OK…' He fervently hoped it was.

'Yeah…' Mary agreed, suddenly needing her clothes. 'Why, there's ladies tryin' years to fall, an' nothin' happens…it's fine…'

Neither of them really sounded convinced.

Of course, Mary had finished that part of the story long before she went that far. As soon as she made the briefest mention of George Jr's conception, Sheldon had moved her on hurriedly, but that didn't mean she didn't remember.