Chapter 5

"I brought a change of clothes in my bag tonight," she said. "I don't have class tomorrow until ten, though."

They were lying in bed, naked, on their sides, facing each other.

"I have a lecture scheduled for nine in Dennison Hall," he said. "Components of the allegorical epic, and how that form affected succeeding forms of storytelling, both in verse and song."

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked, smiling at him.

"You should come and listen," he said. "It will illuminate some of what we're looking for in Eldridge's material."

"I might do that," she said. "It would be interesting to hear you talk about something you're passionate about."

"I hadn't planned on mentioning you during this lecture," he said, smiling.

"Awww, you're trying to get laid again, aren't you?"

"Forty-eight hours ago, I'd have said you were crazy to say that. Now it sounds almost ... normal."

"I hope it is normal. I want you to want to get laid."

"I'm just not used to the idea yet. You're kind of out of my league, you know."

"I know," she said, her face straight. "But I have this strange weakness when it comes to you."

"Could you illuminate that for me?" he asked, fearing he might be pushing her.

"I can," she said. "But I'll have to tell you some things I'm not eager to tell you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid you'll become disenchanted with me."

"Impossible."

"So you say, but there are things in my past that most of the world would say were both improper and immoral."

"Hmmmm," was his response.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"I was thinking about how I'm twice your age, and a member of the faculty, and I'm sleeping with someone who is not only a student, but my employee as well. Some people would judge these things to be both improper and immoral. And since I'm neck deep in them, were I to disdain you for your past errors in judgment, it would be as if the pot were calling the kettle black."

"I love the way you fuck me," she said. "But I also love the way you talk. This is fortunate, because, traditionally, couples spend more time talking than fucking."

"Stop beating around the bush and explain why you picked me," he said.

She was silent for a long time. He let her be that way. He'd already pushed more than he felt like he should have.

"I told you I was raised on a farm," she said.

He nodded.

"Our nearest neighbor was seven or eight miles away, and it was an old farmer and his son, who was about the same age as my dad," she said.

He waited.

"When I was growing up, the bus stopped at the end of our driveway, and then after school, dropped me off at the same place. I had chores to do. I wasn't allowed to date very often."

"Define 'very often, '" he said.

"I had to choose cheerleading or dating. My mother said there wasn't time to do both. And, since I could be a cheerleader when I was fourteen, but wouldn't be allowed to date under any circumstances until I was seventeen, I chose cheerleading. It was the only way to get out of the house. I got to go out on game nights, and there were ... other compensations."

"Such as?"

She looked nervous for the first time since he'd known her.

"My parents were too busy running the farm to chaperone me when I went to games and parties. So my Uncle Rick volunteered to take care of me. As it turned out, he took care of me in ways I don't think my parents originally intended."

Her inference was clear, but Bob had to nail it down.

"You mean he ... did things to you?"

"Yes," she said. She took a breath, but then let it out without saying more. She still looked nervous.

"Can I ask what?" Again, Bob had to know.

"Let's just say he taught me everything I know about sex," she said.

Bob blinked. It was pretty clear she knew a lot about sex. He reflected on that, and the things she'd already said.

"You used the word compensations," said Bob. "Under the circumstances, that seems like an odd word to use."

"I loved it," she said, in a rush. "I loved every second of it. The first time he sucked my nipples and fingerfucked me, I was addicted to him. I became his eager student. I'd do anything he asked me to. Anything. Basically, I was committing incest with my uncle, and I wanted it to go on forever."

"You weren't committing anything," said Bob. "It was rape, both morally and legally. You can't consent at age fourteen. You haven't got a clue at age fourteen."

"I'd argue about that, but I don't want to do that now. Instead, I'll just say that I fell in love with Uncle Rick."

"You only thought you were in love," insisted Bob. "You said it yourself. You weren't allowed to date. You'd had no relationships with boys, either romantic or otherwise. What you were feeling was hormones, that's all."

"You're trying to give me a way out of having the feelings I had. You don't need to. Maybe you're right, at least about when it first started. But it went on until I left for college. By then he was my lover, not my uncle. By then I was old enough to understand what was going on. And by then..." She stopped and swallowed. She went on, but it was obviously with an effort. "By then my parents knew about it."

Again, Bob just stared at her while his mind turned over this new bit of information.

"When did they find out?" he asked.

"When I was sixteen."

"Wait. You're saying they found out and let it go on?"

"I think they were happy about it," she said.

"Come on," he scoffed. "No man is happy that his brother is boffing his daughter."

"Uncle Rick was my mother's brother," Kendra corrected him. "The point is, they wanted me to stay on the farm. And they wanted me to attract a man who would stay on the farm with me. Dad was getting on in years, and both my sisters had gotten married and gone off to live elsewhere. I think my parents were a little desperate, thinking that the farm would have to be sold, eventually, and they'd have to go live in a nursing home, or something like that. That would have killed my father. But they knew Uncle Rick couldn't keep doing this forever and, in a sense, he was just training me to be able to catch and hold a man, when the time came."

"They thought of him as your ... sexual trainer?" Bob's voice was an octave higher than usual.

"They never actually said that. That's just what I think. When they found out, my mother took me aside and talked to me, but the thing she seemed most concerned about was whether we'd been using protection or not."

"Had you?" asked Bob, who then felt instantly like a voyeur.

"He always used a condom," she said. "Always. Except for our last night, before I left for college. I wanted him in me bareback that night. I hoped he'd get me pregnant. I was very confused, back then. And even that was silly, because my mother had put me on the pill by then."

"You said your parents wanted you to stay home. So how did you end up in college?"

"Think about it," she said. "Basically, they wanted me as a brood mare, to attract a stallion who would help Dad on the farm when he wasn't servicing me. My job would be to raise sons to work on the farm as well. I knew what that kind of life was like, except for the actually having babies part. I mean I knew what it was like to never have time to do anything fun. When I said my parents accepted what Uncle Rick was doing, that doesn't mean they let him sleep over in my bed or anything. We still had to do it in the barn, or the back seat of his car and things like that. One time he fucked me under the bleachers after a game. His favorite was doggy style, because we could do that just about anywhere. On my prom night, after he dropped off my date at his house, he pulled into a field and had me stand up, bent over, while he took me from behind, still wearing my dress."

"Wow."

"Anyway, besides not wanting that kind of life, I think I already knew what was confirmed when I went to college."

"And what was that?"

"That I was spoiled. Sexually. I was pretty sure, after spending so much intimate time with a real man, that boys my age weren't going to be very interesting. I was right."

"I see," said Bob. "I just thought of something. Why didn't Rick just come live with you on the farm when you turned eighteen? He obviously loved you, or at least cared about you. And you loved him."

"He had a girlfriend," she said, simply.

"Oh," said Bob, who suddenly didn't like Rick very much.

"He married her as soon as I went to college."

"Oh." He frowned. "I'm sorry," he added. What he was thinking about was that she had transferred her feelings for her uncle to him. He wasn't quite sure that was either healthy, wise, or a good basis for a relationship.

"I'm not," she said. "If it hadn't been for him, I probably still would be back there, barefoot and pregnant. He was the one who suggested that I might be able to get a scholarship as a cheerleader. He took me to all the games, and watched me every night, just like you do. A girl can tell when a man is smitten by her, and he was smitten by me, just like you."

"Didn't he know your parents wanted you to stay on the farm?"

"Oh, yes. That's the ironic part. When we got caught, he expected them to act like he'd done something wrong. He felt guilty about taking my virginity when I was fourteen, and then fucking me every chance he got. He told me that dozens of times. He was always apologizing while he fucked me, and talking about how weak he was and stuff like that. And then, when nothing happened, and they kept letting him 'chaperone' me, I think he felt like they were the ones who were doing something wrong. I want to think he loved me enough to help me get out of that environment."

It sounds messy," said Bob. "But then all of life is messy."

She nodded. "When I got to school, I found all the boys, as pretty as they were, to be shallow and inexperienced and frustrating to be around. I needed to be with an experienced man, because I expected whatever man I was with to be as good as Uncle Rick was. And if he wasn't, I lost interest in him. Pretty soon, I gave up dating men my own age completely."

She reached for the glass of Coke she'd put on the nightstand, and took a sip.

"But it's not easy to find a decent man with experience. The good ones are married, and the divorced ones are usually inept in bed, as well as having some flaw their previous lover couldn't live with. I know that sounds harsh, and it's a generalization and all that, but that's what I experienced."

She went silent for ten or fifteen heartbeats.

"And then I saw you in the stands one night when we played OU, and I felt a spark. I didn't do anything about it then. I just thought I was horny. You have a beautiful smile. Did you know that? Your whole face lights up and you look genuinely happy. And then I saw you again at the next game, and the next. You were always there. I started looking forward to seeing you. That's when I asked one of the other girls who you were.

"I got curious about you and started poking around, trying to find out more about you. And then you put up all those posters, and I jumped at the chance to see what you were like in person."

She went silent long enough that Bob felt like he had to say something.

"I guess I passed inspection," he hazarded.

"With flying colors," she sighed. "You were polite, urbane, intelligent, and even witty, at least when you weren't tongue-tied. You were so cute when you ogled me and tried not to show it. You were everything I'd been looking for. Well, as far as I could tell, anyway. I had to get you in bed to see if you were perfect. When I did, I fell hard for you."

"I'm not perfect," he objected.

"Of course not," she agreed, a little too quickly. "Nor am I. But I think we're well suited for each other."

"What we're talking about, in terms of our future together, calls for something a little deeper than just being well suited for each other," he said.

"What I meant was I like you," she said. "And I think you like me too. Too many people start a relationship out of lust, and then find out they don't really like each other very much. That's why the divorce rate is so high, in my opinion. But I do like you. I haven't really enjoyed sex since I left home, but with you I do, and it isn't just because you're a good lover. I like the man I'm making love with now, and that changes everything, at least for me."

He felt hollow as he said it, but he felt it had to be said.

"I can't be your Uncle Rick."

Her eyes widened with what might have been shock, but then her face went calm.

"I don't want you to be Uncle Rick," she said, softly. "I'm aware now that he only used me. And my parents let him use me. All of them were selfish, and what they did was for their own selfish, misguided ends. I didn't know that then, and as sad as it was, I wasn't hurt by it. I certainly don't think I was damaged by it. But I don't go home any more. Uncle Rick will never touch me again. What I've been looking for is a man who cares what I want, and who will put my needs at the top of his list of things that are important to him. I want a man who loves me, and needs me. I hope I've found him."

Bob rolled onto his back. His fears were assuaged, in terms of worrying that she looked at him as her uncle. His problem now was the last twenty years of staring into the mirror each morning, and seeing a man no woman was interested in. Again, the fairy tale reference he'd thought of before entered his mind.