Chapter 6

Still Jessica's story:

Now you need to know that Megan wasn't a really close friend. We ran in slightly different circles that occasionally had us in proximity. For a while, I guess, we were kind of close, maybe. She told me a lot about her life. That's just her way.

Megan likes to run her mouth. She's one of those people who just dumps her dirty laundry onto the table for everybody to see. One of the things she went on about was her mom and dad's divorce, how her mom was like her, liked crowds and partying and excitement and her dad was more about reading and listening to music and going to parks and, 'you know, just BORING!'

Apparently Megan got that blabbermouth thing from her mom. Megan knew things about what her mom didn't like about her dad. Still, in her own way, I think that Megan loved her dad, even when he tired of her lackadaisical lifestyle, two pregnancies, a failed marriage that had nothing to do with either pregnancy.

I had a lot of data on Barry Harris.

Megan knew the old me. That's the only one she knew. That's the Jessica she expected to find when she called me.

"Hey, Jess, 'Sup???" Megan asked me.

"Nothing but work right now."

"Money still tight?"

"Getting better." I didn't tell her it was getting better because I wasn't going out where so many people gladly helped me to spend it. "'Sup with you?"

"Kid's tying me down. Glad Mom is into that whole grandma thing so I can get a night out every now and then."

"Working?"

"Nah ... Two kids. Just got me a Section Eight apartment. Got all the programs. Getting by."

I'm thinking that next time I look at the deduction block on my check stub, I should have Megan's face in my mind.

"Lemme tell you why I called."

'Okay, here it comes, ' I thought. "Sure!" I said, trying to sound chipper. I still think it's best NOT to piss everybody off, no matter what I think.

"My dad, you know," she said.

"You've told me about your dad, Megan."

"Yeah, well, he sorta, I dunno, he lives by himself and I think he'd like somebody to go to dinner with him. Maybe a movie, whatever."

"He's your dad, Meg. Old guy."

"You don't have to marry 'im, Jess. Go to dinner. Maybe, if ... You could ... Probably sort of mention a hundred bucks..."

"MEGAN!" I blurted, "I'm not a whore."

"I'm not saying you are. I'm just saying that if you cultivated it, he'd help you out ... Lemme text you his number."

"You don't have to. Really."

"Jess, I know what all I told you, but he's my dad. He's a nice guy, really."

"Megan, don't do me any favors."

Two days later, it's Friday, I'm off, no plans and ... I looked at the old text messages. There's the phone number.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Of course, it's Monday, I just kissed Barry on his way out his door, and now I'm getting dressed and making a trip to my old house to get stuff. No, I'm not quite enough of an optimist to move in completely, but I do need some things –clothes, toiletries, my iPod, some things like that.

I'm going to try this. I'm going to try this very hard. I never have moved in with a guy in my whole life. Just wasn't happening, you know.

Brittany knows where I am. Who I've been with. I know it's a matter of time before word gets out. I admit to slightly exacerbating the conversation when I went over there Sunday to get ready for work.

"You're packing a bag. You just got back from your weekend. Where's THAT bag?" she asked.

"Barry's house. He said he'd take care of laundry 'n' stuff."

"Barry? And you're packing for overnight AGAIN? That's Megan's DAD!"

"Believe me, I know, Brit. I know he's Megan's dad. I know exactly how old he is. You know what? I don't care. He's been better to me for two weeks than forty of those man-boys I've been with."

"He's an OLD guy. He knows how many you..."

I think he has an idea..."

"Megan says he has problems with that. With 'er mom."

"We talked about it," I said. "That's one of the things. We talk about everything. He's been places. Done things. Learned. Reads. Listens." I sighed. "And I told him all about me. You know what? 'Past is past'. That's what he said."

"Is he, like, desperate?"

"I don't think so. I actually think he just didn't want to play the games any more. I asked HIM out, you know."

"Dude's almost FIFTY!"

"Yeah," I said. I closed my eyes, remembering his arms around me. "Yeah..."

"OMIGOD! You're, like..."

"Brit, he's a good one. Haven't ever been with one like him in no way, shape or form."

"Are you thinking of LIVING with 'im?"

"I am," I said. "I paid half the rent for another month ... if things don't work. But they'll work."

"Well, Shana's been asking about moving from her old place."

"You're not mad about me moving, are you?"

"No, I guess not. Just surprised. I mean, we partied pretty hard sometimes. Then you changed..."

"Had to, Brit. Wasn't going anywhere I wanted to go."

I went to work that evening, got off work, went straight to Barry's house, got dragged inside the door in a hug.

"That answers that question," I smiled.

"Question?"

"If you missed me."

"Definitely did. I put your clean laundry in the dresser in the bedroom," he said.

I giggled. "Is that some ploy to get me into your bedroom?"

"I thought I'd try to be more subtle than just..." He grabbed me under one arm and headed through the house, me squealing in feigned protest.

I was deposited onto the bed unceremoniously, then attacked.

I attacked right back. Stopped long enough to squeak out, "Lemme get a shower. I smell like a French fry."

"I like French fries," he growled, unbuttoning my blouse.

"Shower with me," I giggled. "Counts as foreplay." Indeed it does. Sex is FUN! Wasn't always, but I found that I was missing a component that I needed. Maybe others don't need it, but adding love to the equation balanced things perfectly for me.

It was the NEXT night, though, that I walked through the door and saw Barry on his cellphone. I kept quiet, raised an eyebrow and mouthed 'Who?' because he didn't look very happy, although he mouthed 'I love you' at me, then 'Megan'.

"My arm's tired. I'm putting the phone down and putting you on speaker," he said.

He set the phone on the arm of his recliner and beckoned me to sit in his lap.

I heard Megan's voice. "Dad, I just can't believe! Brit said that Jessica's moving IN with you? Are you freakin' kidding me?"

"Nope. What two do between each other should not be kidding. This is serious."

"Dadddd! It's about SEX. You're just ... horny."

"Meg, I'm forty-eight. I learned the hazards of just giving in to 'horny' a long time ago." I know that he didn't add that she was one result of failure to practice self-control. Oh, that's wrong. Megan was conceived in that period when he said he still thought things would work between her mom and him.

"What are you gonna do with her, Dad?"

He laughed. "I'm gonna hold her on my lap for the time being. She just got in from work."

"Hi, Megan," I said brightly.

Megan sputtered audibly. "Jessica. You know this is all soooo wrong."

"I don't think so, Meg. Your dad's a really great guy. We get along well together."

"Yeah, Jess," she spat. "I can imagine how well you two get along."

"Don't try to slam me, Meg. I know what I was. I know what I am now. Your dad's smart and funny. You said that yourself. I see all that, and I see somebody who's also mature and kind and loving, and I'm not talking about that 'bounce in the sack' version of love."

"Jess, you're playing a game with my dad."

"I'm playing for keeps." I looked into Barry's eyes. "So is he."

"I just can't BELIEVE!" she blurted.

"Baby, you'd just as well believe..." Barry told her gently. "Jessica's a cutie, no doubt. She's young, no doubt. But she's forever. And you'd better not doubt that either."

"You're SERIOUS!"

"Yes I am, baby," Barry said.

"Me too," I said. "Meg, I wanna thank you. You did a good thing, probably by accident, but still it's a good thing."

"It is, baby," Barry added. "You screwed up in the right direction."

"Dad, I'm mad at both of you. This is crazy. You KNOW it is."

"Megan, get over yourself," Barry said. "I don't run your life. You don't run mine, okay?"

Tersely she said, "'Kay, Dad. G'nite!" There was a biting twang to her last words.

He punched the 'End' button. "Well, that was special."

"You knew it was gonna happen."

"Megan's like 'er mom. Knows oh so very well how everybody's lives need to progress." He looked at me, connecting those damned blue eyes of his to mine. "Still love me?"

"Gonna take more than your crazy daughter to make me quit you."

"You know that if you marry me, she's YOUR step-daughter."

I laughed with his joke. "Yeah, I thought about that. Nobody's perfect, you know."

"You are."

"You're seriously deranged."

"You agree with my daughter, then?"

"According to your daughter, I AM your derangement."

"My derangement smells of French fries and has a marvelous little ass."

I kissed him playfully.

"And a brain," he said. "How was work?"

"They're gonna give me the day shift, I think. I can swing it."

He smiled. "I'd like that. Do you think you can stand that much of me?"

I smile. "No. I spent today wishing you wouldn't come home and this evening dreading getting here and having you put your arms around me."

He bit my ear.

"Come on, you," I said. "I need a shower." Giggle. "With YOU in it."

That's the biggest difference in my life, you know. Now I crave HIM. I crave the connection. I know that when he sees me, that smile is MINE.

So we're in the shower and he's shampooing me, something that I really like, and I'm helping him by washing various parts and life is really good.

Is there sex involved? You betcha! Fun! The guy made my body come alive. Okay, it might've been from the inside out, and not THAT inside, I mean inside my head. I think it's because I believe that when we do it, we're sharing one another, he's wanting me to have maximum pleasure and I want him to lose his mind.

He says that I succeed. He succeeds. We BOTH succeed. And I never want to sleep alone again.

Those feelings mean that I wake up in the middle of the night in a clean bed in a cool room and my head is resting on his belly. I need to move and I'm only semi-awake, but I am lucid enough to remember that we drifted off into slumber after making love in a way that never existed for me until Barry. I need to move, okay, but in the blue moonlight streaming through the window, I see that flaccid little lump that makes us so happy.

I can't resist taking it into my mouth for just a bit. It's still tangy, salty from our last lovemaking.

He stirs into the edges of consciousness, his hand touching my hair. I let him out of my mouth, slide up, turn my back to him and feel him spoon me into his body. I know that in the middle of the night our two bodies will separate for sleep, but I also know that if I roll over and put my hand out, he's there. It's a security I never thought was achievable. Now I know.