Chapter 16

After practicing for about an hour, Matt called a halt and asked Haley to sit with him at the wrought-iron table on the back patio. They had put the softball gear away, with the three dozen practice balls going back into the basket that Matt had purchased for that purpose. Haley had zipped her bat, infielder’s mitt, along with her shin guards and batting gloves, into her bat bag. Haley frowned once at the last four inches of exposed bat, due to a broken tooth in the zipper track of her bat bag, before they sat across from each other at the patio table.

Matt was quiet as he got his thoughts together about how to approach what he wanted to say. He had thought about all that he wanted to cover with the girl. He just needed to start with the right opening so that he did not push her away or embarrass her and shut the conversation down before it started.

“Haley, Honey,” Matt said, “I would like for us to talk just a bit about that bit of trouble at school a couple of weeks ago with you and that football player.”

Haley was watching Matt out of the corner of her eye as she sipped from her water bottle. Given the moment’s hesitation from Matt and the timing of this talk relative to what had happened with her and Connor at school leading up to the fight, and what had happened since then, she had a pretty good idea about what was coming.

Matt was about to continue his spiel, when Haley blurted out, “I am NOT a slut!”

She turned bright red as she realized what she had said to her mom’s boyfriend, a man who was becoming a more common fixture in the lives of all three of them. He did not have any real authority over her, after all!

But Haley was rapidly becoming attached to Matt and liking him and respecting him more, the longer he remained in their lives. In fact, she and Connor had become so accustomed to finding that Matt had stayed overnight with their mother quite often in the past few weeks that they no longer teased in the mornings at breakfast when they found him already at the table.

“I ... I mean ... I didn’t really...” she stopped at that point and tears began to form in her eyes, causing her to look away from Matt to hide her embarrassment.

“I know you are not a slut,” said Matt softly, “You are a young woman who is feeling her body maturing and her emotions trying to catch up.”

Haley looked around and found Matt holding out that hankie that he always seemed to have ready for her lately when she needed one. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and hung onto the hankie as she said, “What do you mean by ‘trying to catch up’?”

Matt took a breath before continuing. “Have you had ‘The Talk’,” and he did the air quotes thing with his fingers, “with your momma?” Haley refrained from smirking as the ‘yore’ inflection in his use of the word ‘your’ betrayed his Southwestern accent.

“Ye-e-es,” Haley replied with a bit of exasperation and the teenage left-right-left sway to her head a couple of times. “And I went through all of that stuff in Health Science in eighth grade; and I got an ‘A’. So, I know all about where babies come from and how to prevent it, and how ‘good girls’,” with her own air quotes this time, “don’t just give it up to the first guy who shows an interest; blah, blah, blah.”

Matt surprised Haley when he did not show any embarrassment at her response. Instead, he went on speaking to her in a relaxed mode.

“Well, you may have the basics and the biology down pat, but you don’t really know squat about the practical aspects of sex; and about how guys think about it,” he said.

Haley looked around directly at Matt and said, “What do you mean I don’t know squat? Just what do you think all the girls talk about when guys are not around? We talk about that kind of stuff all the time. And some of the girls who have been all the way – some even more than once – let the rest of us in on not only what goes on, but what the guys say and do, and expect when they ... do it.” She hoped that her sudden frankness would embarrass Matt and cause him to back off a bit. To her surprise, and minor annoyance, this did not happen.

Matt was not fazed by her rejoinder in the least. “What you are hearing is schoolyard talk and street gossip. And that comes mostly from girls who have no real idea of what a truly satisfying sexual experience is. They mostly have not really gotten beyond the mechanics of getting their panties off, getting Tab A into Slot B, moving and grunting for the requisite forty-five second interval that it takes for the average high school boy to shoot his load, and then cleaning up and going home to make an entry on their Facebook pages or in their diaries.

“Oh,” Matt continued, “and maybe they know about how to give a very rudimentary blow job, since they have had some practice in doing their dates orally from their days of postponing intercourse by using that excuse. But, basically, they would not know what a truly satisfying sexual experience is if it literally bit them in the ass.”

Haley was now a bit shocked and embarrassed in her own right by the forthright approach that this adult male was taking with her. She was not used to anyone speaking to her so directly and frankly about sex and life matters; even her mother had not been so direct. She glanced around to see if her mom might be close enough to bail her out of this conversation, as she was now getting beyond uncomfortable. She needed a break and she needed to use a little bit of what she had learned through experience in her dealings with Rex whenever she did not want to continue an uncomfortable conversation.

She stood up, and tried to put anger into her tone, but fell a bit short as a squeak highlighted her first syllable. “Look ... you are not my father, and I don’t have to listen to you!” With that, she ran through the back door, and on into the house and upstairs to her room.

A few minutes later, Jennifer came out and handed Matt a small bottle of Gatorade. She sat where Haley had been sitting a few minutes earlier.

“What was that all about?” Jennifer asked.

“Sex,” Matt said simply. Jennifer’s eyes got big and her eyebrows rose. For a moment, she was shocked and angered. Then, she calmed as she thought back on previous conversations she had had with Matt during all their times together and realized that he was being really serious, almost in the manner of a concerned parent. She saw from Matt’s expression that he was contemplating something, and simply waited him out, now that her momentary spiking emotions had calmed a bit.

“Jennifer,” Matt began, “what would you think if I had someone with a lot of experience in the areas of sex and interpersonal relationships speak to Haley; maybe even have more than just one long and thorough conversation on the subject?” He was still looking off into space as he asked this.

“What do you mean by someone with more experience? Can’t I simply talk to her as her mother? I mean, I am older and know enough to tell her about it, and...”

Matt looked directly at her and interrupted her. “Jen! Honey, I know you are her mother and have the most intimate connection to your daughter and her developing sex life right now of any other female; or at least you should have. But, honestly, do you really believe that you have broad enough experience in dealing with the topic of how to handle the mindset of teenage boys? I mean, think about what you have shared with me about your own past.

“You had not had a steady boyfriend before you had sex the first time, and you got pregnant from that. And then you were saddled with a teenage pregnancy that pushed the serious boys away; and then early parenthood. Because of that, you missed out on a lot of the experience that other girls obtain during their teen years as they emerge sexually these days.”

Before she could object, Matt said, “Honey, I’m not trying to be overly critical or condescending; I am just trying to put this in perspective, given what you have shared with me about your past.” Jennifer let the out large breath she had taken in preparation for yelling at him; now it became simply a long sigh, as she just nodded for him to continue. And he did.

“Then, it happened again after your prom, resulting in your second pregnancy. After that, you were focused on raising two kids and working, while relying on your mom for help with the two young-uns. Then, in your twenties, you had a couple of boyfriends, and a short marriage to what you have basically described to me as a boy in adult’s clothing.

“Don’t you think you really might be glad to get help from a more conventional source of information? Well, maybe ‘conventional’ is not the word I am looking for. I guess I should say more familiar with the usual pattern of teenage experience; and then a broader range of adult sexual experience.

“And I believe that I know someone – actually two ‘someones’ – who might be able to talk to Haley at length, and give her better insights into a truly fulfilling sex life; the types of relationships that engender mature emotional development; and how to deal with the male of the species; both the good guys and the predators among us; and at both the teenage and adult levels.”

“But who are these ‘someones’ to whom you are referring?” Jennifer asked with concern. “And just how do you know that Haley would be willing to listen to them?”

“Well,” Matt said in response, “I figure that Haley will only be willing to listen to an authoritative woman; and, even then, only a woman for whom she holds a lot of respect. And we both clearly know of one woman who meets those criteria; someone who Haley already respects and looks up to a great deal. And THAT woman has a friend who is closer to Haley’s age who has a lot of life experience as well for such a young age.”

Jennifer did not even have to think more than a second to come up with an answer to that comment.

“Jan Pittman?”

Matt nodded and added, “And Andrea Steadman.”

“Now,” Matt told Connor calmly, but with enough volume for the teen to hear through the protective shooting muffs that they both wore on the range this Saturday morning. “Support the shooting hand with the non-shooting hand. Align the front sight with the slot in the rear sight. Place that alignment on the center of mass of the target. And ... gently squeeze the...”

BANG!

Connor flinched and the pistol rose, but not by much, Matt was surprised to note. Connor had evidently actually listened when instructed to maintain firm wrist control while shooting the 9mm pistol that the boy held; unlike many first-time shooters who forgot everything they had heard up to the point of taking their first live shot at a target.

Matt reached around and gently took the pistol from Connor’s grasp. They both took their muffs off at Matt’s nudge, and he ensured the pistol was on safe and laid it on the shooter’s bench.

Hitting the retrieval button, Matt watched the target with the concentric circles approach him and Connor.

“Not too bad,” Matt told the fourteen-year-old boy. “It looks like you hit within the fourth ring and slightly high right. That means that you flinched and jerked the trigger a tiny bit, rather than squeezing gently. Ready to try again?”

“Yes, Sir,” Connor replied.

Matt noted that the boy had been unusually polite and very respectful since Matt had caught him picking up the pistol from among Matt’s things in the nightstand the previous morning before school. Matt had been finishing his dressing in the master bath at Jennifer’s house in preparation for work and Jennifer was already downstairs.

Neither Haley nor Connor seemed at all surprised anymore, nor did they mind the fact that Matt was staying overnight more often in their mother’s bed. If it bothered them at all, neither teen was voicing or indicating anything negatively. In fact, it appeared to Matt and Jennifer that the two teens were simply happy that their mother was finally enjoying a fulfilling relationship with a man.

Seeing Connor holding his Ruger SR9 had caused Matt a moment’s alarm. “Connor, please do not play with that,” Matt had said with manufactured calm, noting that the boy had obediently placed the pistol back on the nightstand next to the slip holster and had not argued.

Seeing a hint of disappointment on the teen’s face, Matt had asked, “Would you like to learn how to use that properly?” Seeing the instant smile that had lit the boy’s face, Matt had arranged for them to visit the range today. Matt was very pleased with the self-discipline that Connor was showing in handling the pistol this morning in accordance with Matt’s instructions.

While the target was moving on its track back to the twenty-five-meter point downrange, Connor looked up at Matt before they donned their shooting muffs for the next round of shooting.

“Matt,” the boy asked, following Matt’s encouragement to call him by his first name now that he was obviously getting very serious with the boy’s mother.

“What is it, Connor?” Matt asked.

“I know that you carry your pistol under your coat; hidden,” Connor said. “Does that mean that you have a special permit or something?”

“Yeah, Connor,” Matt answered. “It’s referred to in Vermont as a Concealed Weapons Permit. Other places may call it something else, but it is generally referred to around the country as a ‘Concealed Carry License’ or ‘CCL’, or as a Concealed Handgun Carry License’ or ‘CHCL’.”

Connor nodded and asked, “Is that what people mean when they talk about proper gun control?”

Matt grinned and said, “For those of us who respect and employ firearms in our daily lives, proper gun control means drawing a good sight picture, maintaining all the steady hold factors to include proper breathing, putting the round where you intend it to be, all while ensuring the safety of those you are protecting from the varmint you just shot, and keeping track of how many rounds you still have left in the magazine in case he survives. THAT is the essence of proper gun control.”

Connor’s mouth dropped open for a second upon hearing this; and then he laughed out loud, if only a bit nervously, at Matt’s answer.

The two of them continued to bond over firearms for the rest of the morning, as Connor listened to Matt’s instructions; most of which seemed to focus calmly and without fear-mongering, on responsible handling of a firearm more than on the actual mechanics of shooting.

After pulling in the last target of the morning – this time, a man-shaped head-and-torso silhouette – Matt said, “You really do listen well, and you seem to have the steady hand there, Connor. This last set of three rounds would have gotten him in the heart and lungs.” Looking down at Connor’s proud smile as the teen examined his most recent shot placement, Matt got serious.

“Son,” Matt said, using the term ‘Son’ for the first time in their relationship. Connor, realizing that what Matt would say next must be serious for him to use that term of address, returned Matt’s gaze with the same degree of gravity. “I want you to remember that actually shooting a live individual is something that you do only as a last resort.”

Connor nodded and Matt continued. “For me, I would only feel the need to shoot a man if he threatened the lives of me, my family and other loved ones, my principal – meaning Mr. Burton, for whom I drive and protect – and any other defenseless person whom I see threatened. And I can tell you this as well; if I shoot a man, I will endeavor to ensure that he poses no further threat. I will attempt to make it permanent.”

“What about all those shows where they show the cops or the good guys trying to shoot to wound?” Connor asked.

“A wounded animal is still able to bite your hand, Boy,” Matt said, with his Southwestern accent showing through more prominently. Connor thought he now sounded like that actor who did the voice-over for the Dodge Ram truck commercials and who starred in all those western movies made from Louis L’Amour stories; Sam Elliot.