Chapter 7: Saturday Morning

A knock on my back door interrupted my depression as I poured a bowl of Muesli cereal.

Expecting Cassie I didn't worry about being bare-chested with jeans and bare feet. Opening the kitchen door Mary looked up at me.

"Hi, Mary. You don't need to knock. Come in." I stepped aside to let her in. It was easy to see where Cassie inherited her body from. Mary was, at five-feet six, a slender woman. Her body told the tale of childbirth with slightly wider hips and curves, but she was slender and small-breasted and really quite graceful.

"I wonder if we could talk," she said.

"Sure. Coffee?" I asked holding an empty mug up. She nodded. I poured, the aroma of rich full-bodied coffee delighting my senses. I put the bowl of cereal aside and sat at the table, passing her a mug of coffee, some sugar in a bowl and a carton of milk.

Mary poured milk into her mug and stirred. She took the tiniest of sips and put the mug down, wrapping her hands around it. "Finn, I need to talk to you about Cassandra."

A pulse of fear hit me. My hand trembled slightly when I placed my mug on the table. Did she see my hand shake? "What about Cassie?" I asked, cupping my mug with both hands to stop them revealing my nervousness. What did she know? Cassie would never have talked.

Mary's face radiated the gentleness and kindness evident in her daughter and, for a mature lady her age, she was still very handsome. You had to look closely to see the impact of the hard work from both jobs she carried. Her hands were coarse and chapped.

"It seems Cassandra is sexually active. While I'd hoped she'd wait until she was eighteen, kids these days ... well, you know. I can't really complain, though. She knows what she's getting into and has a mature head on her shoulders. But some boy at school..." Her voice trailed off, hand waving in dismissal.

Mary stared at me, the same pale blue eyes as her daughter looking at me. "She loves you. Did you know that?" she asked suddenly.

"I've been a part of her life, Mary. So I'm not surprised. I love her too," I responded carefully.

Mary smiled wistfully. "Yes. You've been a Godsend to us both." Her smile changed, becoming amused. "But that's not the love I'm talking about. I wasn't clear. Cassandra is IN love with you. Romantically," she clarified.

There was silence for a moment. "I ... What am I supposed to do with that?" I asked, my heart thumping uncomfortably. A tendril of fear wormed into me. Maybe Mary did know about Cassie and I!

She tilted her head and looked at me, studied me deeply. "You're a handsome man. You're a good man, too. Cassandra seems to have her heart set on you, Finn. I think I can understand why. I've wrestled with this for a week and hardly been able to sleep." Mary paused to sip her coffee, her eyes studying me with intelligence.

She continued as I sipped from my mug, holding it steady with both hands. "We both know how determined Cassandra can be. You know as well as I that she's been like that since she was an infant," Mary added with a wistful smile. "The thing is, I don't want my baby hurt. I know you don't either. I wanted to talk to you about how we might let her down gently so she doesn't get her heart..."

Mary's voice trailed off into silence. Her eyes intensified. Then they slowly widened, surprise dawning. What was she seeing? My muscles quivering inside me? Was she seeing my fear? The blood rushing to my ears? Could she see discomfort in me?

I couldn't take it. I couldn't carry the burden of my guilt. It rested too heavy. I opened my mouth.

"You feel the same way, don't you," Mary said suddenly before I could confess. "You don't love Cassandra, you're in love with her."

"I..." What could I say? Not trusting myself, not knowing what words to utter, I nodded. What had she seen in me?

The silence that followed was so complete I could hear my old analogue Coca-Cola wall clock ticking away. Mary studied me with intensity. I sipped coffee nervously under her intelligent blue-eyed assessment. A muscle twitched in my thigh.

I felt myself melt, physically melt with relief when Mary smiled wryly and shook her head in wonder.

"There's really no logic in life, is there?" she asked. "Who would have thought?"

Two hours later I was still sitting at the kitchen table. I was still in shock. Mary had calmly told me that, even though Cassandra wasn't a virgin, I could still hurt her and, if I did, Mary would personally amputate a cherished part of my anatomy. She calmly told me she didn't approve; Cassandra was too young. But she wasn't going to forbid Cassandra either, as that would only make her more determined.

As some point over the second mug of coffee Mary quite seriously asked that, if a sexual relationship did develop, and, "knowing my daughter it probably will because you're a bit of a softie around her," to please be discreet about it. Yes it was against the law. But that wasn't what Mary worried about. She told me in a motherly protective tone that she would not let her daughter's reputation be stained by rumors of an affair with an older man.