her request so very urgently. Something seemed to click in my mind about bathing her as a baby, but then I remembered what Cindy had told me about her mother, and I was briefly aware of the idea that I might be just torturing myself unduly, trying to imagine all kinds of terrible things that were not even involved.
“Kathy, honey,” I told her with a nervous and very insecure laugh. “I'm… not even sure I could tell. How… would I know…?”
“You should know? You're a woman,” she said, very convinced, “Colby says he can tell by putting his finger way up there. Here…”
I did it. I tried to throw all my fears aside. I sat right down on the bed beside her and I did it. I don't know whether I could really feel the hymen or not, but it didn't take any medical knowledge to convince me how wrong I'd been. It was impossible to get two fingers inside her very far at all. And my index finger went in very tightly and seemed to be obstructed by something as I tried to push it in its full length.
It surprised me that she was still so lubricated, but then I assumed that she and Colby had been kissing and stimulating each other out in the car right up until the time she had come in.
“Mother… oh… what am I supposed to do?” she asked me as I withdrew my finger. “How can you keep holding out? There must be something…”
“Will you forgive me, darling?” I interrupted, almost breaking into tears as I embraced her very closely, pushing the hair back from her eyes and pressing my lips to hers briefly. “Will you forgive me for being such a fool, having so many doubts, not trusting you… my only daughter whom I love so dearly?”
“Of course, I will,” Kathy said at once, putting her arm around me, “1 know part of it's my fault because I'm such a tease and I like to turn people on. Everybody thinks I'm giving out like everything, but I'm not. I go right up to a point and then I turn off because I have to. But how do you keep on doing that? Two girls in my class are pregnant already because they went one step farther.”
“Maybe you shouldn't let the boys go so far,” I advised, finding myself admiring her nakedness, but uncertain of my emotions. “Maybe you should go only so far as a kiss or two and stop then, before you get so excited.”
“I tried that, and I went without a date for eight weeks one time,” she told me, standing up to admire herself in the mirror. “The nicey-nice boys, the ones I'm not really wild about anyway because they're too goody and not any fun, they won't date me now anyway. Big deal. No great loss for me, I can tell you that. So that leaves only the guys who are going to try to get in your pants no matter what. The only trick is to keep them interested and be able to say no when the thing gets there… keep your legs so tight together they can't get it in.”
“You've gone that far?”
“Oh, Mother!” she said exasperatedly, plopping on the bed again, “I thought you were going to talk to me, and understand, and try to help me. Please don't be a stupid parent. Be my friend.”
“Well… I'll try, darling,” I attempted to assure her, becoming strangely curious and setting on the bed beside her, “Just… how often do you get into one of these situations where you… where your date has his penis out and tries to… enter you?”
“Oh… I dunno,” she shrugged, propping up on an elbow to look at me as if she felt genuinely glad she was able to have this talk. “With Colby it's been every night nearly. Back home, it's once or twice a week.”
“Have you ever… touched the boy there?” I asked hesitantly, not quite sure why I was asking, ”… ever played with it?”
“Yes…” she answered, looking away, “I've jerked off several guys, Colby too. I know that's one way to stop them… and keep them interested too.”
“Have you ever… done anything else?”
“What do you mean? I've let them play with my breasts and kiss them. Oh, gosh, I've done that since I was eleven or twelve.”
“That's all?”
“Oh, Mother, you're a riot!” Kathy suddenly broke out into laughter. “Now, I dig what you're getting at. No, I've never played 69, but I've come pretty close to it. That's dirty, isn't it?”
“Yes,” I answered very quickly and positively.
“Haven't you ever done it?”
“Well… when I was married to your father…”
“No, I don't mean that,” she shook her head and demanded a truthful answer. “Mother, I know you've been having sex with Sam nearly every night. I've even seen your douche bag hanging over there in their bathroom, so don't tell me you haven't. I want to know… have you ever gone down on him?”
I stood up and turned away, walking over to put some ice in my glass and pour in some Scotch right on the rocks. This had gone way too far. This wasn't the way a mother and daughter talked to each other. There should be an image, and I had failed.
“Mother? Are you going to answer me?”
“Yes… yes, Kathy,” I replied, realizing I had no choice at this point. “I have gone down on Sam, and I have done it with other men. You must realize, darling, that I am a 34-year-old woman who has been married, and that's a lot different from being a 15-year-old virgin. My need is… different, more established… more adult.”
“Oh, I didn't mean that,” she said, appearing to be laughing at me again. “I'm not going to do that… yee-uk! That would be awful. I just wondered if it was normal, if adults like you or Father… you know-decent people-if they did that. That's all.”
A great flood of relief swept over me. I began to laugh with Kathy, and I mixed her a very light Scotch and water. We chatted a while about some new clothes I wanted to buy her for her fall wardrobe, and then when the sun came up and I began to yawn, we agreed it was time to go to bed.
I began to undress over by the closet as Kathy put on her baby-dolls. As I took off my bra and panties, I had the strangest feeling that I was being watched, only to glance in the mirror on the door and notice Kathy. She was sitting on the side of the bed with one leg tucked under her, and her hand right between her legs.
She was looking right at me as I stood there naked, her eyes seeming to dance all over my body. I tightened up inside and could not seem to catch my breath. My head was dizzy and goosepimples sprung out all over me. I think my hands were beginning to perspire because I recall rubbing the palms of my hands with my fingers in my restlessness.
“Mother?” her voice beckoned to me ever so softly, and I thought I detected a tremor of it, a kind of subdued breathlessness “Yes…?” I replied. “Turn around a minute so I can see you.”
“Kathy… why…?” I mumbled under my breath, almost losing control, wishing I could pass out before it was too late.
“Oh, gosh, Mother,” she said with a bubbly lift to her voice, her eyes taking me in with a warm smile, “I sure hope I have a body like you when I'm 34. You're super!”
Chapter Eight
The next year at home was much like the one before. I was back in the swing this time with no trouble at all. The men, the parties, the couples, the swingers and, of course, Cindy, were all glad to see me.
I completely forgot about that one traumatic moment with Kathy until I was with Cindy one night and she asked me so very pointedly about how I enjoyed the summer alone with my daughter. It seemed as if she were probing me for something dirty and evil. And I remembered so very vividly what she had told me about her own mother.
Strange, I thought to myself while alone sometimes, that the relationship with my own mother seemed to elude me so completely. She seemed almost a non-person to me, a dim memory from the past of something natural and routine, but with no emotional involvement. I did not, however, dwell on such subjects of potential morbidity for any great time. I was too busy having fun.
In fact, I was so busy having fun that I had apparently slipped up in some small respect in my careful attempts to keep my two lives completely separate. I learned this to my great surprise one Thursday evening in April after submitting my new budget for the drama department to the members of the school board.
