What Now Dad

After I emptied my wife's ashes into the Pacific I climbed to the top of the rocks and sat for a long time, just staring out to sea. The Fourth of July camping trip to Kalaloch, the beautiful beach on the west edge of Olympic National Park, had been a family tradition since the boys were small. It held many happy memories, and when the damn cancer finally got the best of her I decided it was the best place to dispose of what little was left of her mortal remains. It had been a long couple of years: it was the type of cancer that usually isn't diagnosed until it's too far advanced to cure, and while she had cheerfully submitted to any treatment that offered a hope of living long enough to watch her boys grow up we knew it was only a matter of time.

"Dad? You all right?"

That's my boys for you: even though I knew their hearts were breaking as well their first thought was of me. Of course, I was all they had now, and I had to keep functioning to preserve any sense of security they had left. I shook my head.

"Yeah, I'm OK, buddy. Just thinking."

I climbed down.

"Come here, guys."

Even as teenagers, they weren't too proud to share a group hug at a hard time. I guess we did something right. Lord knows we had no idea what we were doing as parents, but we kept trying and doing our best and the boys- one now in high school and the younger in junior high- seemed to be turning out pretty well.

"Now what, Dad?"

"You guys hungry?"

Dumb question: teenage boys are always hungry.

"If I make spaghetti tonight are you guys going to do the dishes?"

"Aww...OK."

So we started back to the campsite and I fired up the old Coleman white gas stove. Old fashioned, but I had learned to operate one at about age six and I was comfortable with it.

The boys started yawning soon after the dishes were done and drifted off to the trailer. I sat for a while, staring into the fire and nursing the one glass of Scotch that was all I allowed myself. Hiding from my grief in a bottle would be a bottomless pit. The question from that afternoon still echoed.

"Now what, Dad?"

Hell if I knew. I had spent the last twenty years devoted to my little family. Now my wife was dead, my kids were starting to leave the nest, and what was I going to do with the rest of my life? What did it matter?

"Uh, excuse me..."

I turned. A slender figure was standing at the edge of the firelight.

"Good evening."

"Hi. Uh, do you know much about those Coleman stoves?"

"Some. What's up?"

"We can't get ours to work and it's getting late. Could you come take a look?"

I stood and drained my glass.

"Sure."

I tapped on the side of the trailer and spoke.

"Guys, I'm going down the road for a few minutes. Be right back."

I got a couple sleepy grunts and a grumble from the German Shepherd who was their constant companion and guardian. His thick fur had absorbed more than its share of tears over the last six months.

"My name's Eric.'

"Oh, hi, I'm Kate."

At her campsite there were a couple other women about her age- somewhat younger than me- and no husbands or kids in evidence. They were grouped around the picnic table.

"What's going on?"

The woman had a bit of an accent that I couldn't place.

"Ve keep pumping this thing and not getting any pressure. It von't light."

"Well, that's usually the pump..."

I pulled my Leatherman off my belt and extracted the air pump from the stove.

"I need some thick oil. Any kind will do."

"Cooking oil?"

"Let's try that."

I poured a thin stream of corn oil over the pump seals and then reinserted the pump in the stove. When I gave it a couple strokes it definitely felt like it was pushing air.

"You have to keep those seals well oiled or they leak. Try it now."

She gave it a couple strokes and grinned.

"That feels better. You're not going to finish?"

"Hey, I got it working! Why do I have to pump it fifty or sixty times on top of that?"

They laughed and got to work, and had their dinner bubbling on the stove in short order.

"You want some?"

"I just ate, actually."

"How about a glass of wine?"

I can stretch a point for social reasons.

"Sure."

They pulled out a good bottle of Columbia Valley Cabernet and poured glasses all round.

"To life!"

"And independence!"

What the hell, I could find out the details later. I joined in.

Over dinner, I found out that Kate was a professor of English at one of the local colleges. The gal with the accent was South African and teaching on an exchange with the same college. Kate and a couple of her colleagues had decided to bring her camping to see the matchless Northwest wilderness while college was out for the summer. Cool women all around. The conversation flowed for quite a while, with Kate and I monopolizing most of it. Suddenly Emma, the South African, spoke up.

"Hey, doesn't your vife wonder where you are?"

"Wife?"

"You wear no ring, but we can all see where it was. Where's your wife?"

I had to get used to this sometime, but tonight wasn't the night I wanted to do it.

"It's not an issue."

The other woman spoke up.

"When was the divorce final?"

I sighed.

"No divorce. My sons and I scattered her ashes in the ocean this afternoon. Cancer."

I felt Kate's hand taking mine to rub over the mark where my wedding ring had been for the last twenty years.

"Lucky you."

"Lucky? How the hell am I lucky? I watched the woman I loved waste away and die from a disease she had no risk factors for. What's lucky about that?"

"My husband rejected me. Said that a woman who couldn't have children wasn't a real woman, and he deserved better than that. We're celebrating the finalization of the divorce."

I couldn't help it.

"ASSHOLE!"

They looked at me in shock.

"Kate, you're all woman and a damned fine specimen of one, if you'll excuse my saying so. From what I remember there was something in the marriage service about 'for better and for worse, in sickness and in health'. If he couldn't live up to the promises he made that's his shortcoming, not yours. He's not a real man."

She smiled.

"I like your perspective. Feels a lot better than what I've been through recently."

I shrugged.

"It's just one man's opinion, and it's worth what you paid for it. Maybe I'm a little old fashioned about honor, but it makes sense to me."

The conversation drifted on. I didn't notice when the other two went to bed, but before long it was just Kate and I talking in the firelit darkness. We covered the relative merits of Shakespeare's comedies and Paris vs. London as travel destinations, argued politics gently, and worked in a lot of personal history in between. She was a smart lady with a terrific sense of humor and good reasons for her opinions, whether I agreed with them or not. She also appeared to have green eyes and a cute smile, both of which I'm a sucker for. Eventually she yawned.

"My God, look at the time! I didn't mean to keep you up all night."

"It's not like I had a whole lot else going on."

I walked to the edge of the campsite, and she went with me. At the road I pulled her into a hug.

"Don't let that idiot ruin your self respect, Kate. You're a terrific woman, and if I was ready to deal with another woman right now I'd be all over you. Assuming you'd want a big dumb ox like me anyhow."

"Don't sell yourself short. Decent guys aren't all that common. Calling yourself dumb won't fool me for a second, either."

I went to kiss her on the forehead, and I think she was aiming for my cheek. Somehow our lips met in the middle. I froze- this was just more than I could deal with that night.

"I'm sorry, Kate. I wasn't trying to do that."

"Don't apologize, Eric. Did you hear me complain?"

She freed herself gently.

"Don't move a bit."

I stood frozen as she went to her pack, pulled something out, scribbled on it, and returned, pushing whatever it was into my shirt pocket.

"I know you're not ready for anything. Maybe I'm not either. When you are, I want to be sure you know how to find me. Hold still."

She stood on tiptoe. The innocent kiss on my cheek drifted down my neck before she dropped to her natural height and stood back.

"Don't lose my number."

I wandered back to my campsite feeling more than a little dazed. Kate was an attractive woman, but I wasn't ready to do anything about it.

The next six months were a blur. I got up every morning and went through the motions of doing what I needed to do without any real interest in life. Work was OK- I couldn't think about how much life sucked and run a software consulting company at the same time- but I dreaded nighttimes when I had nothing to do but miss Kristen. As time went by, though, the waves of grief became less frequent, and I was able to think about more than getting through the day.

There had been a wave of women checking up on me at the beginning, but most of them drifted off. The more persistent ones were single mothers looking for a new husband/father figure. Hard to blame them, but I wasn't ready to commit to anything like that yet. Call me selfish if you like, but I had been through a lot and was ready to take it easy. Taking it easy would have been a lot more fun with a woman to do it with, though.

Toward the end of the semester I had to go to my younger son's school to do a planning meeting for the next year- one of those chores I had never had to do when Kristen was alive. Afterward, his history teacher caught me in the hallway.

"Mr. Johnson, I know you've had a hard year, and I admire how hard you're working to help your boys. If you ever need to talk, even outside of school, feel free to call me."

She handed me her card with her personal cell number on the back and walked off.

At dinner that night, the boys were all over it.

"So, Dad, you going to call Ms. DeMaine?"

"I don't need another woman wanting to comfort me."

Chris smirked.

"Wake up, Dad, she wants to comfort your schlong."

"Say anything like that again and you're grounded. You know better than to talk about a teacher that way. Besides, I must be twenty years older than her. She's a nice, pretty woman, but I don't see any point in that."

They looked at each other.

"Dad, you suck at being single. You need a woman in your life. Maybe not Ms. DeMaine, but I wish I had the chicas after me the way they're after you. Why don't you give it a try?"

"Because I still miss your mom and I haven't been on a first date in about twenty-five years. The Internet, texting, and Match.com didn't exist back then. I have no idea how to do this in the modern world."

"You're not getting anywhere hanging around here grouching at us."

"How many women are looking for a widower with two pain in the ass teenage boys?"

"You'll never know unless you try it."

I didn't give it a lot of thought- my boys always have something to say and 99% of the time it's useless- but a few weeks later I was sorting out my camping stuff and found a business card. "Katherine Halvorsen, Professor..." The words brought back a memory of a small blonde smelling like wood smoke and Arpege. Maybe calling a woman wasn't such a terrible idea. I gave it a try.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi. Dr. Halvorsen?"

"I already announced that I'm not granting any more extensions on term papers."

"I finished my degree long ago. This is Eric Johnson. I don't know if you remember, but we met at Kalaloch last summer."

"Oh, the stove whisperer! Sorry, it's a bad time of year."

"Your card says 'Professor of English.' That's not real believable if that piece of crap is your favorite book."

"Not hardly, I'm more of a Restoration girl. What's up?"

"I found your card in my camping gear and wanted to see if you're free for dinner."

"Of course. Saturday?"

"Great."

The boys naturally had to give me a hard time about going on my first date in some twenty five years.

"Dad, that tie is lame. Who wears a tie these days? And why the flowers?"

"It's how we did things in my day. Shut up, I'm nervous enough already."

Kate seemed to appreciate the flowers when I found her old house just off campus.

"Oh, these are beautiful! You didn't need to do that! Come on in and let me put these in water."

"I'm pretty rusty at dating. I hope I'm not being too old fashioned."

"Believe me, I'm charmed by old fashioned men."

She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as she searched her kitchen for a vase.

"OK, ready!"

"You like sushi?"

"Love it. Let's go."

We fell into an easy conversation on the way that never slowed down until I took too much wasabi at once and sputtered, my eyes watering, and she laughed herself sick. I had nearly forgotten the fun of being able to relax and talk to someone close to my own age about nothing in particular- even better when the person in question is a pretty, bright woman. I was fascinated by the laugh lines around Kate's green eyes- we're at an age where your approach to life starts to show in your face. Eventually I checked my watch.

"Hey, we should get going if we're going to make that movie."

"Dinner and a movie? You really are old fashioned at this, aren't you?"

"Hey, I warned you it's been a long time. You have a better idea?"

"What if we just went for a walk?"

"Fine with me."

We ended up taking the long route around her college campus. She grabbed my arm on a rough patch, and somehow forgot to let go. It was actually pretty fun just wandering and chatting. Before I knew it we were back at her door. She looked up at me with an impish grin.

"Are you too old fashioned to kiss a girl good night on a first date?"

"Not if the girl's up for it."

"Mmm, let me think about that..."

She wasn't as tall as Kristen had been, but I found that she wasn't out of kissing range. She melted into my arms, and if my kissing technique was out of practice hers more than made up for it.

"Thanks, Eric. For dinner and the kiss. It's good to feel like a real woman again."

"You've never been anything less, Kate. See you next weekend?"

"Absolutely. Call me."

One quick kiss and she closed the door firmly behind her.

The boys were all over me the next morning at breakfast.

"Yes, she's pretty. Yes, I like her. Yes, there was a little kissing. That's all you need to know for now. Go get your swimming gear together- we need to leave in fifteen to make the meet on time."

As luck would have it, Christopher's meet the next weekend was out of town and Steve wanted to sleep over at a friend's house. I didn't get many weekends to myself, and wasn't going to waste this one. I called Kate and made plans to take her out for a really nice dinner at a waterfront French restaurant.

The conversation over dinner flowed as easily as the last time. Toward the end of the main course I started talking about my sons, and she got a little quiet.

"Does it bother you that I can't have children?"

"Not hardly. I've been there, done that, and got the T-shirt. I'm too old to start again from scratch. Anyhow, I got snipped after the second kid. I'm not going to have any more either."

Her eyes took on a strange light.

"And one woman in the last twenty five years, which means no strange diseases, right?"

"Right. You?"

"Same here. Isn't that convenient?"

Her hand found mine and her fingers wrapped around my middle finger, moving suggestively.

"What do you say we have dessert back at my place?"

"Uh, sure. GARCON! L'ADDITION, S'IL VOUS PLAIT!"

I stiffened as we hit her bed- and not in the right places. I wanted to touch her but didn't know where to start.

"You OK, Eric?"

"Look, I've only done this with one woman in the last twenty-five years, and that kind of fell apart when she got sick. I think you're incredibly sexy, but I'm kind of rusty at it."

She sat up and hugged me.

"There's no right or wrong here. There's just enjoying being with someone you like and exploring what makes each other feel good. You're not married and there's nothing wrong with us doing this. Stop worrying and kiss me."

I kissed her lips, then I kissed some other things, and before long she was naked and gasping and wiggling under me.

"Stop teasing, Eric! DO ME!"

Her legs gripped me, and I found that there was at least one thing I could still find just fine. It was different, sure, but still felt very, very good. Kate was a moaner where Kristen had been more of a screamer, but she made plain that she was enjoying the hell out of what we were doing.

About 3:00 AM I flopped on my back, exhausted.

"What are you trying to do, kill me? I haven't done that three times a night since college!"

"It was five times for me, so stop complaining."

Kate made herself comfortable with her head on my chest and spoke quietly.

"It's been a long time for me too. When you're trying to get pregnant sex gets to be a chore- trying to do it at the right time, right temperature, charting it- it's no fun. Then, when we found out it was me that had the problem, that was basically the end of my marriage. Who wants to have sex when you can hardly speak a civil word to each other?"

She wiggled a little higher and kissed me.

"With you, we're doing this because we like each other and enjoy it. I trust you, Eric. I know that whatever happens you're not going to make me regret this. No pressure, no worries, I can just be myself and have fun with this big good looking guy I'm slightly crazy about. Is it any wonder I'm going a little wild?"

I hugged her to me and kissed her deeply.

"I'm kind of crazy about you too, Kate. In and out of bed. And you're right, I'd never knowingly do anything to make you sorry about being with me. "

I got in the habit of calling her every time I had a free weekend, and taking her out every chance I got even if the boys were around. The simple pleasures of hanging out with another adult- and the even more basic pleasures we indulged in every chance we got- made the world a brighter place for both of us. One evening we were out for a walk again. As we got back to he front door she grew quiet, and finally spoke.

"You know, Eric, sometimes I wonder if this is just too convenient."

"What do you mean?"

"When we met, we had both been through some real crap in our lives. Being with you makes me feel about a thousand percent better. Are we doing this because we're both lonely, though, or is it more than that?"

"One of the things I've learned through all this is that all we have is today. We can't change the past, and we don't know what's in the future. I sure didn't expect all that's happened to me in the last few years. I know that today you make my life a hell of a lot better, and I hope I do the same for you. If I ever become a negative, feel free to kick me to the curb. Or were you expecting a better offer?"

"That's not what I meant! You really are a great guy, Eric. I mean, Craigslist is full of men looking for barren divorcees pushing forty, but somehow I think that you're a good deal for me."

"Damn it, Kate, stop selling yourself short! I never thought I would say this to a woman again, but I'm more than a little in love with you. Since you brought it up, I could easily go to some dating site and find, say, a twenty three year old yoga instructor with daddy issues if I wanted one. May not be fair but it's true. I want a real woman I can relate to on more than a physical level, and I think you're that woman. Or is this the 'where is this relationship going' conversation?'

"I don't know. It's too early for me to ask that. I don't want to lose myself in the fun of being with you."

"Come here."

The hug was slow and long, and the kiss was equal parts sexy and sweet.

"Kate, I'm not some idiot playboy. I wouldn't make this effort if I didn't honestly have some strong feelings for you. Trust me, trust your own feelings, and this will work out."