After cleaning rice out of our hair and spending a three-day vacation that would have to pass for a honeymoon, we returned to the daily grind of life. Karen's job took her away from early in the morning until after dinnertime, and I consulted for a living and was continually tethered to my pager and laptop. Even though I telecommuted and spent much of my time wearing boxers, I still was still on call twenty-four hours a day. Honeymoon or not, I could be summoned to a downtown office at virtually any hour.
The family Karen and I made consisted of spare parts—two college-aged boys from her previous marriage, but none of our own—and a live-in daughter who had graduated high school a year ago but had not yet found her way out of the roost. Heather, Karen's daughter, was pretty and put together very well—at five feet, seven inches, I guessed her weight at around a hundred twenty, much of it in very good places. And she was quite good looking, a real head-turner with long hair dyed brunette. She'd never liked her normal auburn brown, and the disagreement over her hair color had been a source of consternation for her mother.
Heather had been the quiet one, the shy one, the pretty girl who had not dated a boy, not throughout high school or during the months that followed. Her sexuality was, by all accounts, non-existent. Her mother feared she might be a lesbian, but I knew otherwise. Heather had simply not been drawn to anybody. And now that meeting people was made harder by the loss of a social life post high school, the years began to race away from her, threatening to forget she had ever existed. Her two night classes hadn't yet contained the man of her dreams.
I met Heather's mother three years ago on an internet dating site. We met a few times for coffee and never wanted to stop meeting. So we got married.
"I don't know," Heather would tell me. "I just never dated. I was too busy in school, and no boys interested me. They were all jerks."
"Now what?" I'd say, earning another shrug from her.
"I guess I'll never know what it's like to kiss anybody."
Karen had asked around at her church as well as the mothers of friends she'd known, hoping to uncover one gem, a diamond in the rough, the perfect man for her daughter. The fruitless search went on for a long time.
"It's so hard," Heather told me. "I should have lost my virginity two years ago like everyone else. I have no experience. It's like credit. You have to have it to get it."
"It's not as bad as you say, Heather." My consolations seemed to fall on ears that refused to let them pass. And so it continued beyond her nineteenth year.
Karen had prepared for an out-of-town business trip and would be gone for much of the upcoming week. We made love one more time before I drove her to the airport.
"Take care of the pets, Raymond."
"Of course I will."
"Feed them, water—"
"Honey. I've had cats before."
"I know, but I worry." She gave me a kiss. "And spend some time with my daughter."
"Our daughter, Karen. She's mine, too."
"That's very sweet. She's always thought of you as her dad. Maybe you can give her a few dating tips."
"Me? Please be serious."
"She loves you, Raymond. She trusts you." One more kiss and I watched Karen brave the security checkpoint and disappear into a sea of rushing passengers-to-be.
Heather had an irregular schedule in college. Mostly, she took her tests online and rarely went anywhere to attend class, contributing to her dismal social life. But word had it her interest had been sparked by one particular man who had yet to ask her on a date. My pep talk hadn't seemed to find purchase, and she appeared disinterested, letting the candidate fall by the wayside.
Since marrying Karen, I'd always slept nude, always at the ready for sex. Now in our mid-forties, sex had not slowed as much as I'd once thought it would. We were quite active horizontally, even though the house had another human living in it.
On Tuesday, the second full day my wife was gone, I lay in bed in the wee hours, trying to decide when I would void my distended bladder. My toilet had been slowed by something and hadn't been working right, so rather than risk a plumbing nightmare, I sauntered down the hall in the weak light of dawn in search of the hall bath, wearing nothing but a sleepy face. That was when I bumped into Heather coming out of the shower, just as nude as I was.
"Oh my God!" she shouted.
"I'm sorry, Heather!" Trying to hide behind her towel was a bad idea, so I scurried down the hall and back to my room.
"Sorry, Daddy. I'll be just a minute." Somewhat less than mortified, I waited until the all-clear sign, and used her bathroom. Then I returned to bed and ruminated about what had happened. Who takes a shower at two-thirty in the morning? Then I drifted to sleep. I'd fix the toilet later.
Later that morning, I awoke and used my own bathroom this time, slow flush and all. When I returned to bed, Heather was waiting for me, seated on the corner of the mattress. She was dressed in only a robe, which was one robe more than I had on. I fetched mine from the bathroom and draped it over myself.
"Hi, Daddy."
"Heather? Do you know what time it is?"
"I had a bad dream." I looked at the clock. 6:18.
"Call your mother. She's on eastern time."
"Mind if I sit here?"
I looked at her. "I guess that's fine." Then I stifled a yawn. "Maybe I should just get up and put the coffee on. What were you doing taking a shower in the middle of the night?"
"I was bored."
"Try sleeping."
"Daddy, when did you first kiss a girl?"
"Oh, geez. It's been more years than I can count. I think I was fifteen."
"What was it like?"
I smiled a dreamy smile. "Awkward. My first kiss with anyone has always been awkward."
"That's what has me worried. Will it be awkward for me?"
"Not necessarily. You have to find someone you really enjoy being around. Then you can ease into it."
"Was it awkward with my Mom?"
"Nope. She was one exception. Everything was always so easy with her. You'll find the right one, honey."
"I know, but I won't know what to do. You know, it's like credit."
"Yeah, it kind of is."
"Dad? Would you kiss me?"
"Would I what?"
"I knew it was a bad idea. I'm sorry."
I thought about it. I was free of disease, an excellent teacher, patient, kind, and according to Karen, I was a great kisser. This wasn't my blood daughter but a grown woman twenty-five years my junior. It actually made good sense. It was just awkward, the same awkward she had wanted to avoid.
"I don't know, Heather. Your Mom might throw us both out."
She giggled. "No way. She loves you."
