Chapter 6

There are two kinds of birth control pills, generally speaking. One has three weeks of active drug in it that prevents ovulation, and then a week of placebo pills that allow the body to have what appears to be a menstrual period. Why this was done goes back to 1958, when the pill was first invented, and isn’t important to this story. The other kind prevents ovulation for the entire month and women taking them don’t have periods at all.

It was this second type that Cindy was taking, so “skipping” a period was now normal, in her mind.

The first symptom that something had changed was when Bob squeezed her right breast while he kissed her and she jerked.

“Ow,” she complained.

“What?” asked Bob.

“My breast hurts,” she said. “When you squeezed it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think I squeezed it that hard.”

“It’s okay,” she said.

But both breasts were tender after that.

Neither of them thought much about that. Bob figured it was growing pains. He knew that some girls experienced that problem, but didn’t dig into it enough to learn that that usually happens during early puberty, rather than at the stage Cindy was in.

It was, a month and a half after Bob unknowingly knocked his daughter up, that she began to have morning sickness.

Even then, it didn’t alert them right away. For one thing, it didn’t happen in the morning. She got nauseous at school, just before lunch. She skipped lunch that day. The next day it happened on the way home from school, and she told her father she might be getting sick.

He took her temperature, which was within the normal range.

“I feel better now,” she said.

Two weeks later, though, they both knew something was up. Normally Cindy used the bathroom facilities at school once a day. Now she had to go three times at school and her trips to the bathroom at home increased, too. She felt tired all the time now, too.

Bob got her an appointment with her doctor.

He was sitting in the waiting room, leafing through a magazine, when his white-faced daughter came out to tell him the news.

It was surreal, walking across the stage, wearing her purple robe and graduation cap, hearing her name read. People were clapping and her friends were hooting. Everything seemed normal on the outside. But inside she knew her daddy’s baby was growing in her womb. She was taking vitamins now, which helped with the fatigue. Her morning sickness had faded to happening only a couple of times a week. She felt normal in most senses.

Except that she was pregnant and only she, her father, and her doctor knew that.

When she stood in front of a mirror, naked, turning this way and that, only the fact that her abdomen wasn’t board-flat anymore gave any hint that something had changed. Even that slight swell didn’t make her look “pregnant” in her own mind.

She’d been ambivalent at first, worrying but not able to articulate what she was worrying about. Never once did she wish she wasn’t pregnant, or think of what had happened as a terrible mistake. At the same time she couldn’t imagine being a mother, or how that would affect her future.

There had been an awkward few nights, immediately after the doctor told her the results of the pregnancy test he’d done. For the first time in a year she thought about sleeping in her own bed. That didn’t feel right either, though, and she never seriously contemplated it. Getting in bed with her father, that first night, had resulted in one of the few times they didn’t make love. They lay there, side by side, each distracted by their own thoughts.

Bob’s situation was a little different. His primary issue was that he felt guilty. He didn’t know what to say to his lover. In a more normal coupling this might not have been such an issue. The normal couple who experiences an unplanned pregnancy approach it from a different perspective.

And yet, both types of couples are still faced with the same primary decision: What do we do now?

Eventually Bob rolled to face his daughter.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I know,” she sighed.

“So you’re unhappy about this?”

“I don’t know. It’s all so new.”

“I love you,” he said.

“I know that,” she said. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

“We’ll get through this,” he said.

“I know that,” she replied. “I just don’t know how.”

Bob didn’t either, to be honest. He just knew he’d do anything to make his baby girl as happy as possible.

Then they rolled together, to cuddle naked, until both eventually fell asleep.

The second night had been easier. She’d gone to school, knowing she was pregnant, and was amazed all day that nobody could tell. When she got home she talked about that and then they talked about things in general. Her due date was, as it turned out, Thanksgiving Day that year. That meant, if she tried to go to college, she’d be heavily gravid for most of the first semester and then miss classes just before finals. She wasn’t excited about that.

Eventually, though, it weighed less and less on her mind. The fact that she didn’t hate her father for doing this to her made Bob’s daily existence easier, too. Like most people faced with a difficult situation, both adapted and tried to keep on living as normally as possible.

In their case, that meant sleeping together.

Under these conditions, it was inevitable that, one night, Cindy lifted her head from Bob’s shoulder and said, “I’m horny.”

“I’m amazed,” he said, honestly.

“So you’re not horny?”

“I didn’t say that. I confess you make me horny on a regular basis.”

“Even though I’m pregnant?”

“Sweetheart, you being pregnant doesn’t have anything to do with it. I love you and that’s why I find you irresistible.”

“So you are horny,” she said, insisting that he answer her question.

He simply moved her hand to his penis.

Ten minutes later he was deep in her, straining to get deeper, while her hips thrust upwards, trying to get him deeper, and the lovers had negotiated another bump in the road of their unconventional relationship.

It wasn’t the last bump in the road for this couple. Every relationship has potholes that cause trouble on the trip. But the bond between father and daughter was strong, which helped the bond between lovers be strong as well.

She was four months along when she did her graduation walk and, thanks to baggy clothes and a body that somehow managed to mute, rather than announce it was with child, none of her friends knew she was pregnant. That didn’t last past June, but because she wasn’t in school, it wasn’t a topic of general conversation among her peers. The news did get around, but to anyone who didn’t actually see her, it was just information. There were comments like, “Wow, I didn’t expect that!”, and “I didn’t think she was the type,” and “Well it wasn’t me! She wouldn’t let me even get to second base!”

Her friends didn’t abandon her, but most of them felt uncomfortable being around her because they didn’t know what to say to her. Only two asked her who the father was and to both, she said, “It doesn’t matter. Getting married to him is out of the question.”

Eventually, as happens with many recent graduates, her social relationships fell off and she spent most of her time at home with her father.

Nobody thought that was strange. Most people thought she was probably embarrassed to be seen in public with a swollen belly. It never occurred to them that she was acting just like a young, pregnant wife, who spent most of her time with the father of her child than with people outside the family.

Cindy had a healthy eight pound boy who she fell hopelessly in love with the second the nurse laid him on her chest. She named him Christopher, after her paternal grandfather. His arrival changed everything, and yet, somehow, life still seemed normal. Such is the adaptability Mother Nature has worked into the DNA of all species.

Cindy would have loved nothing more than living at home acting “married” to her father and having more of his babies. But Bob knew there was no real future for her in that scenario. Nobody noticed much that a teenager got pregnant out of wedlock and that her single father took care of her in the initial months after she gave birth. But if more babies came along people who knew she didn’t have a boyfriend or go out on dates would become suspicious if she kept getting pregnant.

In the end Bob basically forced her to “move on” with her life. Because he was self-employed, he had the flexibility to move. The real estate market in a university town is always fluid so finding someplace for them to live there was no problem. They chose a university with a well-respected elementary education program and Cindy became a teacher. It was a difficult four years, but she was proud when she donned another graduation cap and gown and walked across another stage to receive her degree.

That wasn’t the only improvement in her life, though. During her senior year she met a man and the chemistry she felt was familiar. That was because being around him made her have some of the same feelings she had when she was around her daddy/lover.

They talked about it in bed and Bob encouraged her to explore those feelings. That led to Cindy going on her first date since high school.

His name was Paul and he was in two of her classes. They had coffee, and then decided to study together. He had roommates, so studying at her house was preferred. Christopher was no problem because “Grandpa” took care of him while the students applied themselves to their lessons.

Cindy, not having been through the emotional wringer that is the result of multiple failed teenaged crushes, wasn’t jaded about men. Paul was delighted to be around a woman who didn’t play games, was intelligent, and had a good sense of humor. She never talked about Christopher’s father and he didn’t ask any questions. Furthermore, the little boy was fun to be around and well-behaved. Eventually, the idea of “inheriting” another man’s child didn’t seem like such a big deal to the farm boy from Iowa.

Their first kiss was electric, for both of them. It happened, as such kisses sometimes do, without being planned.

Christopher had come running to his mother for his good night hug and kiss one night. Bob stood in the opening of the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

“Good night my prince,” said Cindy, scooping the little boy up in a hug that crushed him to breasts that had remained full after she stopped breast feeding. She kissed him soundly on the lips and said, “I love you to pieces. I hope you have only wonderful dreams.” It was her standard good night speech.

“Good night, Mommy,” he piped. “I will.”

Then he was off, running to Bob’s arms to be carried off to bed, and Paul sighed.

“He’s a lucky boy,” he said.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“I’d love to be sent to bed like that.” He grinned.

Cindy said nothing and went back to reviewing the questions they expected to be on an upcoming test.

But, when he left for the night, something made her pull him into an embrace. She kissed him, a bit longer than she’d kissed Christopher, and said, “Good night my other prince. I like you to pieces. I hope you have only wonderful dreams.”

He leaned back, but left his hands on her lower back.

“I don’t think there will be any problems with that,” he said. “They might get a little personal. I’ll just apologize for that ahead of time.”

“Hmmmm,” was all she said. She felt a familiar fluttery feeling and knew she’d be hurrying to join her father in bed as soon as this disturbing man left.

There was an obvious attraction between them. At the same time, there was restraint in both of them that each recognized. On Cindy’s part, it was because she felt like she was cheating on the only lover she’d ever had, the man she loved more than any other, with the possible exception of her son.

His reluctance was because he, too, had a secret that bound him to his past, one he felt like he could not discuss with this new woman in his life.

As a result, neither was eager to move things farther. But moving things farther is a biological urge that cannot be suppressed forever.

There were more good night kisses. Oddly, neither thought about going out on a date. Their relationship was based on being study partners and friends, or perhaps extra special friends. Eventually their feelings for each other demanded that decisions be made about the future.

And all this time, Cindy talked about everything with her father. As they lay in bed together, cuddling before or after having sex, she’d offer up something she was thinking about, or concerned about. Bob consistently encouraged her to pursue a life that he knew would eventually separate her from him, at least in the sense they now enjoyed. That made it easier for Cindy to feel like she was not cheating on him.

One example of this was on a night when she was sitting on top of Bob, his prick firmly buried in her belly. He was lightly pinching her nipples, which had also remained large and well-formed after Christopher spent six months sucking on them. Bob was partly responsible for that, too.

“He kissed me again tonight,” she said, thrusting her hips languidly.

“Was it a good kiss?” asked Bob.

“Yeah. It made me tingly.”

“That’s good,” he said.

“It made me think about doing this,” she said, clenching her internal muscles to squeeze the penis that had impregnated her.

“That’s normal,” he said.

“I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else,” she said.

“Millions of women do it every night,” he responded.

“You know what I mean,” she said.

“Sweetheart, you know you can’t live at home your whole life.”

“I know. I wish I could, though.”

“Paul seems like a good guy,” said Bob. He hadn’t had all that much interaction with the man on an interpersonal level.

“He is. And he likes me. I can tell.”

“I can tell you like him, too.”

There were other conversations like that, and they allowed Cindy to loosen the leash on her emotions towards Paul.

Their kisses moved from being “good night” kisses to something more. Eventually those kisses lasted for five or ten minutes. Eventually when their studies were finished one night, she sat on the couch and patted the seat beside her.

“Let’s talk,” she said.

“Talk?” He grinned.

“Among other things,” she said, her face calm.

That was one of the things Paul liked about her so much. She didn’t tease or play the social games other women he knew did.

So he sat and, fifteen minutes later, as their welded lips nipped at each other, she brought his hand to her breast. He squeezed it once, but then sat back, breaking their embrace.

“Your father,” he said.

“He’s fine with this,” she responded. “He and Christopher are already in bed.”

His frown remained.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing some turmoil in him.

“I can’t,” he said.

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Something bloomed in Cindy’s mind, popping into it from nowhere.

“There’s another woman,” she said. That made her gut clench.

“Sort of,” he said, uncomfortably.

“Sort of? What does that mean?” she probed. “You and I spend four nights a week studying. Are you dating somebody?”

“No,” he said, and then bit his lip. It was almost as if he wished he hadn’t denied it.

“Just tell me,” she said.

“I can’t,” he moaned. “You wouldn’t understand.”

It was Cindy’s own past, with her unorthodox familial relationship that made her say, “Perhaps I would.” She didn’t explain that, of course, but that’s what came out of her mouth.

“No you wouldn’t,” he said, firmly. “Nobody would.”

“What an interesting thing to say,” said Cindy, who understood that perspective completely.

“I should just leave,” he said.

“I think you should just stay,” she responded.