The cold November air, driven by unseen forces, swept over manicured gardens, knocking the last late buds of fall from their stems. Winter snows were still a couple weeks away, yet the bitter cold of the French countryside seeped in to steal body heat quickly. At the far end of the valley lay the Parker family estate, its granite manor built in the eighteenth century, protected by high stone walls. It was mid afternoon, the sun just starting its descent on the horizon. Church services ended mid morning and the Parker clan gathered to celebrate the birthday of the heir apparent. His coming of age party had been planned to the last detail, complete with gifts and advice from the many friends and relatives invited to share this occasion.

Yet those who knew this outgoing young man best, were aware he needed some time alone. Daniel James Parker Senior walked quickly away from the milling guests, leading his grandson toward the solitude of the balcony. As they stood in silence overlooking the fields below, Daniel tried once again to make amends, "Take as much time as you need son, I will keep the wolves at bay," referring to the fifty some people attending the party, mostly well meaning family members, wishing to share sage advice on his plans for the future.

"Thank you."

Turning to look his grandson in the eye, Daniel smiled weakly, "Just remember we all believed it was best to wait for you to come of age before allowing you to set out on your journey."

Gregory Parker was a fine young man, strong, determined, and highly intelligent. "You were all wrong, Sir," the bitter tone of his voice, a telltale sign of his steadfast anger. "The last three years have been hell and why? What grand purpose was served by making me wait?"

"Your mother was and still is concerned Greg. She had her reasons." Knowing they would never agree, Daniel did not wait for a response. Instead, he briefly tapped Gregory's shoulder in reassurance before turning to leave him alone with his thoughts.

Thinking back on the last twenty-one years, he knew his mother loved him completely and wanted only the best for him. However, he had a right, a right to know his father, even if it was twenty-one years after his birth. There was no lack of male role models in his life, his grandfather and uncles provided all the companionship a young growing boy needed. Yet from the time he was five years old he'd know that an important person was missing.

Outsiders, looking in, believed Gregory's life was perfect. But, there was a void in his life only a father could fill.

Time and time again, he questioned his mother about his father. Each time she told him the story needed to wait until he was older. Three years ago, on his eighteenth birthday, Gregory took his mother aside, to this exact same balcony, and told her it was time. He did not give her the opportunity to put it off again. After several minutes of arguing, she finally agreed to tell him.

"I was seventeen and my father consented to my spending the summer in Paris with friends. He rented an apartment for us on the Champs de la Rouge. We left right after school let out," she started to explain.

Anxious to get to his father's name, Gregory tried to interrupt her, "I don't need a long story Mother, just his damn name."

Ignoring his outburst, Babbitt Parker drew her lips tight, her well-shaped brow lifting slightly at her son's use of foul language. "There is no need for vulgarity young man," she stated flatly. "And, before I continue with this story, I want you to promise me something,"

"What do you want mother?"

"You will promise not to leave in search of him until you are twenty-one," she replied.

"Twenty-one!" he shouted. "Mother I've waited eighteen years for you to tell me about my father and now you expect me to wait three more to go find the man. What kind of bullshit is this?" Her earlier admonishment about swearing brought to mind by the lifting of her brow, reminding him to remain calm. Reining in his temper he again tried to reason with her. "I am sorry mother, but I'm unwilling to put off the search for my father any longer. You should have told me years ago who he is."

"Be grateful for what I'm willing to tell you son. If you would prefer to await your twenty-first birthday we can rejoin your grandparents in the salon." Her voice held a note of finality. Gregory knew he would have to consent to her demands or wait; something he was not willing to do. With little hesitation, he agreed to his mother's stipulation. Less then an hour later, he knew the entire story.

Now here he was, twenty-one years old, standing on the same balcony of his mothers' family estate. Tomorrow he would be boarding a plane to the United States where he would finally meet the man who should have been part of his life from the beginning. Gregory was excited, nervous, and relieved.

For the last two weeks all his mother could do was warn him about the dangers of American culture, as well as worry that his father would refuse to see him. She had driven him to distraction, which in turn led to his continued use of foul language, causing her to chide him repeatedly. Now with less then twenty-four hours to wait all he wanted was to speed up time and get to the airport.

Thinking fondly of his grandfather and silently thanking him, Gregory descended the stairs heading toward the stables. Hoping to delay his return to the party, he saddled his horse, riding out into the wind-swept fields.