A few nights later, Mary and I were watching a movie together when the doorbell rang. Jenna was studying in the bedroom she shared with her sister, Evie. Outside it was raining cats and dogs. "Who'd be out on a night like this?" I asked my wife as we both went to the door.
It was a cop dressed in a rain slicker, and standing beside him, looking like a drowned rat, was Evie, looking wet and miserable. Her hair was drenched, lank and bedraggled. Her clothes looked muddied and her blouse was torn at the collar.
"Good evening, officer," I began.
"This is your daughter?" he asked.
"Of course she is," said Mary. "Is there a problem?"
"I'm afraid she's been in something of a . . . a scrape. We picked up the man who was bothering her, but your daughter insists that she doesn't want to press charges."
Evie was looking down at the ground, as if she were counting the shoelace holes on our slippers. "I'd just like to put it behind me, if that's okay with you," she said, meekly.
"Is Evie in trouble?" I asked.
"Far from it," said the policeman. "In fact, she's the victim of . . . well, maybe I'll let her explain it to you." He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. "Here's how you can contact me if your daughter decides she'd like to take the next step. Like I said, we caught the guy. And we'd love to press charges."
"Can I come inside, please?" said Evie. "It's really wet out here."
Mary and I ushered Evie into the living room. Mary hustled her daughter toward her bedroom to help her dry off while I heated some water to make a pot of tea.
In a few minutes, Evie and her mother emerged from the girls' bedroom. Evie was wearing one of her sister's babydoll nighties and had a towel in her hands that she was using to rub and dry her hair. I handed cups of tea to both mother and daughter.
"So what happened?" I asked. As we settled onto the couch together, I watched Evie rub her hair with the towel. Her vigorous actions had an incredible effect on her braless tits, which were clearly visible through the gauzy fabric of the yellow nightie. Even traumatized, she was sexy as hell.
"Do I have to tell you? It's so . . . yucky."
When I looked up, I saw Evie's sister Jenna standing in the doorway. She was leaning against the door frame, silently listening to our conversation. Mary, sitting with her back to the door, was unaware of Jenna's presence.
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," Mary said to Evie. "But I guarantee you'll feel better if you get it off your chest."
"I was at a college soccer match," Evie explained. "It was kind of a small crowd - I know the sport isn't very popular in this country, but . . . anyway, everyone was having a good time until it started to thunder and rain and they called off the game. I sitting in the rain at the bus stop when a guy pulled up in a car and offered me a lift."
Mary and I exchanged glances. "You accepted a ride from a stranger?" Mary asked.
"It didn't seem that way at the time. I'd seen him at the game, and, welll, I figured it would be alright."
"And then . . .?"
"He took a turn down a small side street and stopped the car. He . . . he started kissing me and grabbing at me! Oh, God!" She turned toward me on the couch and started to go into my arms for comfort, but then turned away in revulsion. Instead, she buried herself in her mother's arms.
The gesture wasn't lost on anyone. Mary looked at me with a concerned expression. "Sweetie, you're not afraid of Daddy, are you?"
"No, of course not. Welll, maybe a little. Mom, you know I didn't have much contact with men in the girls' boarding school. And this man was so . . . Oh, Mommy, he was so awful!"
"You can't let one bad man make you afraid of all men," said Mary. "Here - let's prove it. Go into Daddy's arms and give him a hug."
"Should I?" Evie asked. Then, without any further encouragement, she turned away from her mother and practically dove into my arms, pressing her lush body, barely covered by the thin, nearly transparent nightgown, against my chest.
"He grabbed you like this?" I asked.
"Tighter," she said. "He held me tighter."
I pulled Evie closer into my arms. Mary looked at me approvingly. "What else did he do?" I asked.
"He . . . he kissed me."
"Like this?" I asked, as I put my fingers on her chin and gently raised her face up to mine.
I kissed her on the lips in front of her mother.
"Uh huh. Oh, Daddy!" I felt her body lose some of its tension as she began kissing me back.
I broke off contact with Evie briefly and looked at her mother. "I think we need to desensitize you to the terrible things this man did. Don't you think so, Mary?"
Mary nodded, clearly distressed at the trauma Evie seemed to be experiencing.
"Kiss him again, Evie," said Mary. "Daddy will prove to you that you don't need to be afraid of a man's touch."
