Jan

'Yeah, that makes sense.'

'Okay, then, let's assume that it's not me that does it. That means it's someone else. The question is, who? After this experience, can we figure she's going to tell you who? Somehow, I don't think so – which means that we have absolutely no idea whether it would be someone she was really justified in taking the risk with: she may pick right, but I expect it's more likely that she'll pick wrong. Not deliberately, but more likely someone that doesn't really care that much – that is, someone that might decide, after the fact, to run his mouth, or discovers he isn't as patient and gentle as he said he could be, or something along those lines.'

'Yeah, I get it. But doesn't that bring us back to you?'

'Yes – but only as ONE of several options.'

'Such as?'

'Such as: I am the one. It's not a responsibility I want, but there you go. Another choice is that it's someone you – or we – do trust to not only do it right, but keep quiet about it – like you.'

'Like hell!'

'Ah, ah. I'm not saying it would be you, just like I'm not saying it would be me – I'm only pointing out options.'

He shot me a dirty look, but kept quiet as I continued 'Another choice is that you – or we – try to convince her to wait, hoping she'll change her mind.' Here, he snorted. Pretty much my estimation of the chances, as well. She was the only person I'd ever met that could out-stubborn a cat.

'Another one is to try and redirect her to one or more choices that you do approve of; or maybe chaining her in her room so she CAN'T follow up on any of it.' Again, a derisive noise, matching my own opinion.

'Finally, there's the option of simply trying to wait it out by putting up with the nonsense, ignoring her declarations, and hoping for the best: that she gets tired of it, and it all blows over with nothing more happening.'

'Yeah, right. And Santa Claus is gonna bring me lots of presents this year.'

'Pretty much what I figured, too, but that's the choices I see.'

'This sucks.'

'Where have I heard that before?', I asked, and getting a dirty look in return.

'What's the worst case?', he asked.

'Worst case I can figure?' – he nodded – 'Hmmm. I suppose it would be that she completely lost her mind, and picked some shithead from school that took her out on a date, all but raped her in the back seat, knocked her up and gave her a dose at the same time – then told all his buddies about it the next day; with pictures or some other kind of proof.'

'Oh, joy.'

'Yeah.'

He thought for a while, and said 'So it sounds to me like the best deal I'm likely to get out of this is to respect her decision, and try to make the best of it.'

'Probably, yeah.'

He got an evil grin on his face, and said 'Then, the best YOU can hope for is the same thing: respect her decision, and try to make the best deal you can.'

Uh-oh.

'Meaning?'

'Meaning that if*I* have to cave in, then you aren't going to be far behind, 'Uncle Dan'!'

Oh, shit.

'Except for one thing: I don't particularly want any part of this, Paul.'

'Yeah, like I do? You just said yourself, for either of us to be able to tolerate this, it's going to have to be somebody we both know to do it right. It sure as hell can't – ISN'T! – going to be me. We both know she's not likely to pick someone else – unless YOU think you can stand The Treatment like I've been getting!' We both knew I'd never manage it, either.

He went on 'There isn't any way that I'm going to get out of this happy. But the thing that would make me least UNhappy is if it was someone I knew and trusted – specifically, YOU, the guy she named in the first place. As much as the idea of my little girl getting banged – and particularly by my best friend – gripes me, at least with you, I know she's not gonna get knocked up or catch something. At least with YOU, I know it'll be by someone that will take their time and make it as easy and painless as they can for her. At least with you, I know it'll be by somebody that actually gives a shit about her. So, buddy, if I gotta bite it, you're next in line for a taste!' shit, Shit, SHit, SHIt, SHIT, SHIT!!!!

One last try at escaping:'Okay, Paul. Now, how are you gonna feel about Jan – and ME – afterwards? At some point, you would have to know that it was over. Hell, you're probably going to get dragged into getting it set up. Would you be able to keep your nose out of it? Control the thoughts that would sure as hell get into your head – like they probably are now?'

He made a face at me, saying 'Yah, I can't help but imagine it. But as long as I don't actually have to LOOK, and don't know the gory details, then I can keep it together. I ain't gonna like it, but I'll do it 'cause I gotta. Much as I hate to admit it, you're both pretty damn important to me. It's just getting used to the idea that the same chubby legs I used to tickle are gonna be getting spread for some stud. And what do you mean 'probably get dragged into setting it up'?'

'C'mon Paul, think it through. Do you want her being rushed the first time, so that there isn't TIME to do it right? No? Then that means she's going to be away from you for a while – and you're sure as hell going to notice THAT, now aren't you?'

He sighed.'Yeah, I suppose you're right. Why the hell couldn't I have had all boys?'

'Like I read in a Tom Clancy novel. It went something like 'Daughters are God's way of getting back at you for being a guy.''

He looked at the ceiling, and said'God? Why do you hate me so? If you'll tell me, I promise I'll try to make it good – and then you'll quit messing with me, right?'

I chuckled, and told him'Paul, if God quit fucking with you, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself!' – and finally got him laughing.

After a couple minutes discussion, we settled on how he was going to break the news to Jan. As kind of a payback, we decided to mess with her head a little along the way.

A few days later, by agreement with Paul, I stopped by to ostensibly do some work on his computer. Jan saw me, of course, but when she tried to talk to me, I just looked at her as though she'd somehow betrayed me; and when she tried to get me to talk, just shook my head, and went back to the computer. The timing was such that I was still there when Paul got home. We pretended as though we were 'making up'; and Paul 'eventually' invited me to stay for dinner. All during the preparation, and even the meal, we pretended to be standoffish, and I continued my pseudo-withdrawal from Jan, giving her much the same Treatment as she'd given Paul. The net effect was to make her more and more apprehensive.

Even Leo and John were looking at me as though waiting for me to go postal and murder them all with an axe.

When dinner was over, Paul and I stayed at the table, sipping coffee as the kids cleared the table and straightened the kitchen. When Jan came in to pick up the last few things, Paul told her that when she was done, they needed to have a talk, and that the boys should go to their room.

Her eyes got big, but she agreed ('Yes, Father.'), and continued what she was doing.

A couple minutes later, we heard the boys whispering as they headed toward their room, and a few moments after that, Jan joined us at the table. Seating herself carefully, she looked first at me (patently ignoring her), then Paul (looking impassive and steadfast).

Paul started by saying 'Janice, I've been giving your situation considerable thought.'

I could see her getting apprehensive as Paul continued 'I've given it a*lot* of thought.'

He paused for a bit to let the tension build.

'Obviously, it's a matter of considerable concern, not just to me, but obviously, to you as well.'

Another pause. More tension.

'I've finally reached a decision.'

Pause.