Oliver crept into the backyard without making a sound, expert in scanning for objects that would make noise. He wore night vision goggles he'd purchased from a pawn shop and he scanned for anything he could steal.
Oliver made his living fencing backyard detritus; lawn chairs, tools, bar-b-ques, anything of value that he could carry to his van idling in the alley. Suburbia was his savannah and he was a hyena snatching his daily meal from beneath the roving eyes of bigger predators.
It hadn't been his plan to be a thief, but when his job had been sent overseas his options had quickly run out. Oliver was forty five; he'd had a great wife until her slow, agonizing and expensive death from cancer last year. That left him raising his two daughters, who he had every intention of putting through college no matter what.
There was no way he was letting his home and his daughters' futures disappear. He wasn't going to allow self-pity or a sense of failure ruin his children's lives. They were a team; they would do anything for each other.
That meant scrounging from those who had so much they couldn't be bothered to put it away at night. At least that was how Oliver justified it in his rather conflicted heart. He made the moral dilemma of it easier by saying it was for the girls.
His angels. Brie, the elder girl, was supposed to e going to college any day, but he was too in debt to pull it off. She was working two part time jobs to save up, and he was doing this business to support the three of them. Lainey was still in high school, and even she worked a part time job. His girls understood that he had to pay for mom's treatment before he could pay for their education.
Brie had stepped up incredibly when Marie had gotten sick. By the time her Mother was dead Brie was essentially the woman of the house, doing, not only some chores, but helping earn money and run the finances that her Father was not as qualified to do.
Brie was smart; she was going to be a business major when she got into school. The pride Oliver felt for his amazing daughter helped him withstand the mental torment he experienced stealing from others who may well be in similar situations to him.
None of their neighbors had any clue how he earned his money. He lived in a nice area just outside the downtown core in a house he had owned for twelve years. Everyone around had been amazingly sympathetic when Marie died, but he couldn't beg for money from them. They weren't family.
So he was here in this backyard, in a neighborhood far from his own, searching for anything he knew he could fence for cash.
Just as he spied a huge water hose for watering this massive yard he heard the backdoor open. Oliver froze. He wore all black and his face was mostly covered by the night vision goggles so he felt confident that he wouldn't be noticed. He closed his eyes in case the yard light came on and he waited to see if he was spotted.
No scream or snarl emerged so Oliver opened one eye a slit to see if there was a light on.
The area was dark and a figure walked to the rear of the yard carrying what could only be a bag of garbage. Oliver opened his eyes fully and saw a man in a robe walking carefully along the sidewalk on the far side of the yard.
He seemed around Oliver's age, mid to late forties, he was well built and Oliver wasn't sure if he would win in a fight if it came to that. The man had no shoes on but slippers that he was shuffling so as to keep on his feet.
Oliver allowed himself to move into a crouch as the man passed ten feet from where he was. Then, as the man moved deeper into the yard, Oliver scooted as quietly as possible over to a pair of trees that partially hid a playhouse. Creeping behind it Oliver took cover, peering at the man through windows in the half sized little building.
Just as the man finished putting the garbage into the can someone else came out of the house. A young woman in her late teens tip-toed out onto the grass and whispered, "Daddy?"
"Here, sweetie." He replied in a normal voice.
"Daddy I need to talk to you in secret. Come over here." She padded over to the little house and darted inside, followed by her father, as Oliver ducked out of view.
Listening, with his heart beating loudly, Oliver wondered why they had to have this conversation right here, right now?
"Dad? I need some advice. Or help... or both." She was still whispering but Oliver was able hear over his thumping chest.
"Of course, but why here, why now? It's late you should be asleep. Your flight is early."
"I can't sleep. I'm too nervous and excited. I can't stop thinking about how much I'm going to miss you. And mom. But... you."
"I know babe. I'm pretty messed up too. I didn't have any idea it would be so hard to let you go off into the world. I'm really proud of you, and I know you can handle things... but I just wish I could be there to look out for you, y'know."
"I wish you could to. I'm scared of not feeling safe anymore. I'm used to knowing you are there to protect me. "
"Then be smart. Don't get into situations that you won't feel safe."
"Okay."
There was a moment of silence that stretched on for a while. Oliver felt hot and trapped, hidden so close to this odd conversation. Brie was so capable and self-reliant Oliver couldn't imagine having this conversation with her.
"Dad?"
"What's up?"
"I'm scared of something."
"What's that?"
"I want to tell you, but I kind of know you aren't going to like this conversation."
"Why?"
"I've noticed how weird you get whenever Mom and I talk about sex."
The man made a tight sound almost like a growl.
"See."
"Well jeez. I don't think its right... a man talking to his daughter about sex."
"So who else am I supposed to ask? A stranger?"
"Your Mother."
"I can't ask her this."
"Why not?" His voice was getting louder.
"Only a man would know."
Her father heaved a huge sigh and Oliver felt empathy for him. This sounded like it would be awkward.
"Okay. I'll try. What is it?"
"Okay. Now be serious. I'm really worried about something. This is really important to me. Okay?" The girl sounded close to tears so Oliver was relieved to hear her father say, "Okay."
"I hear all the guys and girls at school, and other places, talking about one thing over and over. Everyone seems to know how to do this, how to make it good and how men like it, but I have no clue. I'm still a virgin Daddy." She sounded distraught.
"Oh baby. That's fine. You don't have to be ready for sex."
"I am though. I want it so bad. Daddy I think about it all the time. I want to do it and I want to be good at it. How do I give a blow job? I don't understand. I can't see really well in videos. What is the tongue doing? How much suction? God it seems so complex."
Imagining her father's face, Oliver had to hold back from laughing out loud. This was insane. What the hell was going on in that girls head talking to her father like this?
But Oliver didn't expect what the father then said.
"Baby. It's easy. You don't need to stress about it at all. If the boy is inexperienced then he won't know what he likes either. He will be used to what his hand feels like not a mouth. Meaning you can experiment and find out together. And if the guy is experienced he will tell you what he likes if you simply ask."
"How can I experiment? What does it feel like? What does it feel like for a boy?"
"Baby, it feels very good with little effort from a woman... Just knowing that you are willing to try will make a guy enjoy himself. Imagine it happening to you?"
"Oh no. I don't want that to happen to me."
"What? You don't want a guy going down on you? Why not?"
"I'm too embarrassed."
"Of what? It feels great, it's nice to do. That's the point. It's meant to feel good. Don't put so much pressure on this stuff. It's all pretty ridiculous and weird when all is said and done."
"It feels like a big deal."
"Well, it is and it isn't." He sighed once more, but Oliver noted that the girl's father was far calmer about this sex talk than he himself would have been. Giving a daughter advice on oral sex seemed beyond Oliver's ability.
"Baby, sex, all sex, is just an outward sign of a deeper connection. If you can't talk to a lover about what you like and what he likes then you shouldn't be with them, you aren't comfortable enough. How could you be willing to use your mouth on a man but be unwilling to use it to talk?"
'Huh." She grunted. "I hadn't thought of it like that."
"Sure, because you haven't found a boy you connect with enough."
"Be real Dad. You don't think I'll ever be ready. You think I'm a child."
"Well... you're my child."
"Yeah, but I'm not a child. I'm a woman. Except I'm going off to college a virgin who knows nothing about sex."
