Chapter 9

Hannah was saved from more trauma by the arrival of the food. We got to meet Robin in the process, since she helped bring it all to our table. Robin was no hag either. Her white outfit hid her body, and her chef's hat hid her hair, but her face suggested the same fine genes as those Julie had inherited. She had my order in one hand, and eyes that were greener than any I had seen before pinned me in my seat.

"You would be the virgin, Bob, from Oklahoma, yes? You look like a veal kind of man."

I grinned.

"Good food and a mentalist show," I said. "Will there be magic tricks after dinner?"

She smiled. "Of a sort. We will magically lighten your wallet."

"His wallet," I said, pointing at Phil.

"Mister Anderson's wallet," she said, her smile never faltering.

"He never told you our last name," said Caitlin, looking up from her plate.

"Mister Anderson dined with us two months ago, in the company of Mister Roger Curtiss. We offered the B menu that day and Mister Anderson chose the Mediterranean Chicken with rice pilaf. Mister Curtiss paid the bill, and Mister Anderson left a generous tip."

"How'd you do that?" asked Caitlin.

"She has a photographic memory," said Julie, as she served Hannah. "She likes to show off, too."

"It's not a photographic memory," said Robin, frostily.

"I know, I know," said Julie. "It's hyperthymesia, but nobody's ever heard of that, and you always have to explain it to them, which takes time and right now I think they want to eat instead of discussing semantics."

"It's not semantics!" said Robin as the two of them walked away.

Julie was right, though. Suddenly, all interest in talking vanished as we dug into our food.

There was only one other indication that Hannah was still in distress during dinner.

When Julie returned to the table with wines selected to go with each patron's food (even Caitlin's) and she said she'd remove the other drinks, Hannah reached for mine and put a hand over hers before Julie could touch them.

"I'll just keep them for after dinner," she said, looking a little flushed.

The ride home was uneventful.

At least, initially.

I think that's because, while the portions were modest, the amount of taste Robin crammed into the food she served made it seem like we'd eaten like Kings.

Of course there had been dessert. When Julie came back to inquire as to whether we were happy, she found four relaxed, almost dazed people, leaning back in their chairs, just staring at empty plates.

"How are we doing?" she asked.

"That was fantastic," sighed Hannah.

"Did we leave room for dessert?"

"I remember something about pistachios and chocolate from the menu," said Caitlin.

"That would be our Pistachio Cannoli, which is a crisp pastry shell filled with sweetened mascarpone, chocolate and pistachios," said Julie smoothly.

"I couldn't," moaned Hannah.

"I want that," said Caitlin.

"Want to share one?" asked Phil, looking at me.

"If the dessert is anything like the meal, it might actually cause a pleasure overload," I said.

"We have to die sooner or later," said Phil.

"No dying," said Hannah.

"Not in our restaurant," agreed Julie.

"Not any time soon," said Hannah.

"You can taste it here, and then take some of it home," suggested Julie. "It keeps very well in the fridge."

"Two servings," said Phil.

Which is why all four of us had the taste of chocolate in our mouths as we wandered out of The Hag's Cauldron.

We wandered because we just didn't have any interest in doing anything more energetic.

It was dark on the way home.

Hannah reclined her seat a little, to lie back.

Caitlin reached and put her hand not on my leg, but on my pants, directly over my penis.

"I can only think of one thing that could make things better after that meal," she said, squeezing my cock.

I picked up her hand and moved it back to her own lap.

"What's that, sweetie?" asked her father, moving his head in that way that told me he was looking into the back seat via his rear view mirror.

"Sleep," sighed Hannah.

"Don't you dare go to sleep," said Phil. "I just dropped a bundle on you, and a guy who drops a bundle on his date should be able to expect something in return."

"I love you," she said, rolling her head towards him.

"It's wonderful to hear that, but I was thinking of a way you could show me you love me," he said, with a leer in his voice.

"Hey, you two," said Caitlin. I saw her hand move and again, she grabbed my cock and squeezed it. "Get a room or something."

"Don't you worry about us," said Phil. "You might be almost grown up, but you don't need to be thinking about that kind of thing. Not yet. You're much too young."

"How old do I have to be to start thinking about that kind of thing?" asked Kat lightly, as I removed her hand again.

"Twenty-five," said Phil.

"Twenty five?" screeched Caitlin.

"Okay ... thirty."

"Ha ... Ha," said Caitlin.

"Okay," he said, turning a corner. "We'll compromise. You can start dating after you graduate." Kat took in breath but he spoke again before she could. "From college," he added.

"I already date, Daddy," she said, sweetly.

"Who let you start doing that?" he groaned.

"You did," she said, just as sweetly.

"Well I was wrong," he said.

"Boy, howdy," said Hannah.

Thankfully, we were back home at that point, so he had no chance to ask her why she'd said that.

I was in the guest bedroom. It was probably around midnight, though my watch was on the night stand and I couldn't see it. We had sat up in the living room, sipping more wine until ten. The conversation had been simple. Phil asked about Kat's visit with me, and she reeled off a dozen things she'd done. Then she'd steered the subject in another direction by asking about people I'd never heard of and they brought her up to date on them and others. At ten I had decided that going to bed precipitously was probably the best way to avoid Caitlin wanting to "say goodnight" to me in some dangerous way, so I just stood and told them I was bushed and was hitting the sack.

I wasn't tired when I got to the guest bedroom, so I changed into the shorts I'd intended to sleep in on our camping trip (but never did) and lay down to read the book I was currently carrying around in case I had some time to kill, somewhere. They had the AC turned down a lot more than I did at home, and I had just pulled the sheet over me when I saw the door open in my peripheral vision. I thought it was Kat, and turned my head to scold her and tell her to leave.

It was Hannah.

"You still awake?" she asked. "Yeah," I said. I had a pretty good idea what she wanted. "You got a minute?" she asked.

"Of course," I said, steeling myself for what I was sure was going to be a very unhappy conversation. I had no idea what I was going to do if she started throwing around ultimatums. I could probably deal with that, but I was sure Kat would not react well at all. True, she'd eventually get over it, but it would be fiery for a while until she did.

She came to sit on the side of the bed, while I scooted over to give her more room. She sat with her hands in her lap and stared around the room, as if she were trying to commit it to memory. I gave her time to get around to whatever she was going to say.

"How did this happen?" she finally asked.

"I thought Kat already told you," I said.

"When did you start calling her Kat?" she asked. "We don't call her that."

"It's just a nickname," I said.

"I want to hear your side of it," she said.

I thought. Things had happened so fast that it all seemed a blur in my mind. She gave me time to answer too.

"We've always been close," I started off. "I think it was because, when she wanted to do boy things, I let her. She said she didn't get to do that at home. I think maybe that had a big impact on her."

"You're right. She came home after that first summer and said she might just marry you some day," said Hannah.

"We've always had a good time together," I said.

"And we never complained," said Hannah. "We think about raising a girl differently than you do, but Phil and I agreed that different wasn't bad. Though, I have to admit, there have been times when we cursed you a bit. She can be very stubborn when she comes back from visiting you, and wants to keep doing some of the things you let her do."

"Like what?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Like climb mountains," said Hannah, her voice flat. "We have lots of them here, and she says they're much more spectacular than the ones in Oklahoma."

"Actually, all we did was some light rock climbing," I said. "We climbed at Quartz Mountain, which is maybe two thousand feet tall, and we got nowhere near the top of that. The mountains we have are old and rounded off, compared to what you guys have out here on the west coast."

"Phil and I have always been scared to death something would happen to her," said Hannah. "I'd say you know how it is with parents, but maybe you don't."

"Probably not," I said. "I just saw her as a capable girl, who wanted to try things. I wanted to help her succeed."

"Respect," said Hannah, softly. "Thoughtfulness. Things most women appreciate." She looked down at me. "Things valuable in the seduction of a woman."

"I didn't try to seduce her," I said.

"I know. You didn't have to. All you did was be the kind of man a woman loves to be around."

"I didn't even know it was happening," I said.

"I believe that too," she said. "Go on."

"Things happened that I wasn't aware of," I said, tentatively. I was now going on what Kat had told me.

"Such as?"

"Well ... she swam in my pool a lot. And along about two or three years ago, she started wearing bikinis. Actually, she'd always worn them, but she started looking different in them. And I noticed that."

"And you stared," suggested Hannah.

"I didn't think I stared. In fact, I tried not to stare. I mean you know what guys do. We wear sunglasses, and look out of the sides of our eyes and all that."

"Is that what guys do?" asked Hannah, smiling.

"Well sure. Don't women watch men too?"

"Of course we do," she said.

"Well, anyway, I guess she saw me looking after all. That's what she told me."

"She told me that too," agreed Hannah.

"And I guess she didn't mind," I said, lamely.

Hannah stared, and said nothing. I went on, just to fill the silence.

"Anyway, this year was the first time anything actually happened. It was an accident, really. We were playing tennis and she twisted her ankle, and when I went to examine it, she ... uh ... didn't have anything on under ... she was wearing a skirt and she hadn't put on any ... panties."