Chapter 27: Answering VERY Carefully

October 26, 1996, Rutherford, Ohio

“Have you talked to your sisters?” I asked as Winter and I drove to her sisters’ house.

“You mean about my first time?”

“More like your first fifty times!” I chuckled.

Winter snickered, “They’re more than a little jealous!”

“So you did tell them!”

“No, I’m yanking your chain. When would I have talked to them? I’m either working or we’re screwing!”

“We did go to King’s Island!”

“OK. That, too. Of course, I could make some comments at breakfast...”

“I think your original plan was better - wait until I go home.”

“It would be fun to tease them. I mean you won’t do anything with them without tests, and I don’t think my sisters are THAT wild. Well, no, maybe Autumn. I mean, doing it at twelve ... shoot! You didn’t hear that!”

“Already wiped from memory.”

“Thanks. I’m serious, please don’t let on you know.”

“That’s what ‘wiped from memory’ means. Don’t sweat it.”

That slip-up drove home Winter’s comments about my kids and age. She obviously thought her sister had been too young, and I agreed. I felt fourteen was about right, but some of my closest friends and one of my wives felt fifteen or sixteen was a better age. There was no general agreement around the world, with the ‘age of consent’ varying from fourteen to eighteen. And that didn’t take into account the Muslim countries where, by law, consent was impossible unless the woman was married.

“Turn here,” she said.

I was already slowing down, because I remembered the route from the previous Sunday.

“I remember,” I replied. “If I go somewhere once, I can get there again.”

“That’s a cool skill to have.”

“It is.”

I pulled into the driveway and parked. We got out and went into the house. Winter called out and this time the reply came from the kitchen, so we went there.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Summer said. “There’s coffee in the percolator. Help yourselves.”

Winter and I each got a cup and then followed Summer into the dining room where Autumn and Brooke joined us. We sat down and I suppressed a smirk at the sausage links. We helped ourselves to sausage, eggs, waffles, and toast, though I passed on the carbs.

“Remind you of anything?” Autumn said to Brooke.

“Your boyfriend!” Brooke said with a smirk. “I saw him come out of the shower!”

Summer and Winter both laughed and I just rolled my eyes.

“You do remember they’re smaller when they aren’t at full mast, right?” Autumn countered.

“You’re right,” Brooke said smugly. “He wasn’t even THAT big!”

“So, Winter,” Autumn asked with a smirk, “Sausage link? Hot dog? Kielbasa?”

“Mr. Andrews’ horse cried when he saw Steve,” Winter said piously.

“I call bullshit!” Summer exclaimed.

“I’d need to see the evidence!” Brooke added.

“Yeah, but would it stand up in court?” Autumn asked, causing all four girls to giggle uncontrollably.

“And I have to ask - how many have you seen, baby sister?” Summer smirked. “I mean the first one I saw looked like it was the Washington Monument, but it was actually pretty small!”

“I’ll freely admit I’m smaller than the Washington Monument,” I deadpanned, causing all the girls to laugh.

“You know why girls can’t estimate size very well?” Autumn snickered.

I nodded and held my thumb and forefinger about four inches apart, “Because they’re constantly told this is eight inches!”

“I’m thinking this calls for ‘Show and Tell’,” Brooke teased.

“You first,” I replied with an inquisitive look.

“Afraid you won’t measure up?” she smirked.

“I’ve never, ever had a complaint in my life, and in the end, that’s the only thing that matters.”

“Most guys would brag,” Autumn said. “And they exaggerate!”

“I’m sure you’ve heard numbers for ‘average’ size,” I replied, “But remember this - nearly every study is self-reported. How reliable do you think THOSE numbers are?”

All four girls laughed.

“Not at all!” Brooke laughed. “But I asked for SHOW and tell. I have a measuring tape in my sewing kit!”

“You know it’s not the size of the wand but the magic in it, right?”

“The refrain of every guy with a tiny dick!” Autumn laughed.

“I have a friend, and yes, a real friend, who was going with a guy who legitimately had eight inches, and was thick as a beer can. She always said sex with her former boyfriend who was more average size was way better because he didn’t rely on his size alone.”

“That actually makes sense,” Brooke said. “But Autumn is a real size queen!”

“Oh I am NOT!” she laughed.

Brooke shook her head, “First words out of your mouth about a new guy are dimensions. And I’m not talking his shirt size!”

“Most guys I know lead with hair color then breast measurements,” I said. “I don’t think that’s much better.”

“No double-Ds in this room!” Summer said, shaking her head.

“Yeah but you three are all C’s,” Brooke complained. “I’m stuck with A’s!”

I smiled, “Which makes you the winner in my book!”

“Yeah, right!”

“I kid you not! Ask Winter what I said last Sunday on our way back into town.”

“That he preferred your body style; that you’re his ‘type’,” Winter said, looking directly at Brooke.

“Seriously?” Autumn asked.

“Seriously,” I replied. “Athletic, small-breasted women are my preferred type. But the girl’s personality is WAY more important than her measurements.”

“He’s a smooth one,” Autumn laughed. “He said that without even a smirk or a stutter! You don’t have to massage her THAT hard to get her to let you into her panties!”

“Bitch!” Brooke spat, but then laughed.

“So if we all stripped down and offered, you’d take her first?”

I shrugged, “Or I might save her for last.”

“Mr. Nonchalant here!” Summer laughed. “He just assumes!”

I shook my head and smiled, “I assume nothing. I expect nothing. And besides, unless all of you have had your shots, there’s no chance of anything more than teasing about sausage links.”

“Had our shots?” Autumn spat. “What are we? Dogs?”

“You said it, Autumn,” Brooke teased.

“OK, my turn to call YOU a bitch, bitch!”

“I think he means STD tests,” Summer said with a smirk. “In fact I’m sure of it because he made the point last weekend.”

“I did.”

“That counts me out,” Summer said.

“Me, too,” Autumn added.

Brooke got a smug look on her face and pulled a folded sheet of paper onto the table.

“You SLUT!” Autumn gasped.

“Says the girl who had...” Brooke began.

“Don’t!” Summer cautioned, interrupting. “Nobody reveals anything about what anyone else does or has done.”

“A very wise policy,” I replied.

“So, ‘Show and Tell’?” Brooke asked.

“You’ll need to ask Winter,” I said.

Winter smirked, “Only if I can watch!”

“WINTER!” both Summer and Autumn gasped.

She casually continued eating as if she hadn’t said something outrageous.

“I have to ask what you did to our little sister!” Autumn said.

“Nobody reveals anything about what anyone else does or has done,” I said smugly, and took a bite of eggs.

“He’s a total smart ass!” Brooke laughed. “I love it!”

I shrugged, “You set ‘em up; I’ll knock ‘em down.”

“He’s awfully damned confident,” Summer said. “That’s either a good front or he really IS that good. And since my little sister is sitting there looking like the cat that ate the canary, I’d say he IS that good. I should have had my damned test!”

“Right,” Autumn retorted, “because Jim would be just fine with you screwing some random guy who blew into town!”

“I do not cheat nor do I facilitate cheating,” I replied. “So even with that paper on the table, if Brooke has a steady boyfriend, nothing is going to happen. And I mean zero. And even if she doesn’t, there are no guarantees.”

Autumn laughed softly, “Sex is like snow - you never know how many inches you’ll get or how long it’ll last!”

“Nor is it guaranteed even if the forecast predicts it,” I replied.

“Let me get this straight,” Autumn said. “If she’s had her test and is willing, you might say ‘no’?”

“Anyone can say ‘no’,” I replied. “Do YOU think a girl is obligated to have sex if a guy buys her dinner and takes her to a movie?”

“No, but some guys expect it.”

“They can expect all they want,” I replied. “You’re the only one in control of your body. Heck, a wife could refuse her husband and he’d have no recourse except divorce. I think it was about three years ago when the last state FINALLY changed their laws so a husband could be charged with the rape of his own wife. Sure, the standard is higher because of the presumption of consent, but to be blunt, only a complete asshole would have sex with an unwilling woman, even if she was married to him. And if he doesn’t have consent, he should do serious time.

“But I take it a step further; I need positive consent, not just acquiescence. Basically, that means making absolutely sure the person is giving consent. With my wives it’s a bit less rigorous, but usually one of us offers to fool around and the other or others agree. I can be absolutely sure that I’m not going beyond what the girl wants. I suggest everyone adopt that policy, though I wouldn’t force them to. I mean, I can see how it might be awkward as you’re pawing at each other to stop and ask. So my usual way is to ask beforehand and make sure the girl knows she can say ‘no’.”

“I bet you didn’t get laid much in High School if that was your policy!” Autumn laughed.

“School stud,” I replied flatly. “My wife’s words, not mine.”

“Where’d you go to school?” Brooke asked.

“Milford High,” I replied.

“When did you graduate?”

“1981.”

“Did you play chess by any chance?”

“Sure.”

“Holy shit! You’re HIM! Computer dating, right?”

“Yes,” I said warily.

“My aunt, my dad’s younger sister, has a newspaper article about you! And pictures of you and her at a Sadie Hawkins Day dance!”

I knew who that had to be but I wanted to confirm.

“What’s your last name?”

“Schneider.”

“Your dad’s younger sister is Cassandra, or Cassie, right?” I asked.

“Yes! Girls, he is NOT exaggerating!”

“No kidding,” Winter deadpanned.

“I have to ask what she’s said.”

“On my sixteenth birthday, she took me to the clinic to get birth control pills because my parents would have wigged out, and we had a long talk about guys. You, and I’m quoting from memory, ‘danced a HELL of a lot better lying down than standing up!’ You guys went on one date and she had four pages in her scrapbook!”

“Four pages?”

“Pictures from the dance, a copy of the newspaper article, a copy of her computer dating sheet, and then a half-page description of your date. You WERE a stud.”

“Past tense?” I asked with an arched eyebrow. “How is Cassie?”

“Married, three kids, and runs the largest real estate office in the county. They live south of town. Her husband is a lieutenant in the fire department. I’m sure she’d love to see you, but I guess you’re going home in the morning.”

“I am.”

“You know, if we DID, I bet she’d be jealous as hell!”

“She’s married, so you might lose your bet.”

Brooke’s eyes twinkled, “The last line in the scrapbook was ‘orgasms like that are hard to come by and he can have me again anytime!’.”

“And when was that written?” I asked.

“I honestly don’t know. She’s kept scrapbooks for at least as long as I’ve been alive.”

We finished our breakfasts and Summer and Autumn cleared away the dishes and put them into a dishwasher, then poured coffee for everyone.

“You wouldn’t be weirded out by doing it with a guy who did it with your aunt before you were born?” Summer asked.

“I’m pretty sure that dance was in November of my Sophomore year, so 1978,” I replied. “Unless Brooke was born in November or December of ‘78 she was at least alive.”

“May of ‘77,” Brooke said. “My dad and mom got married a few weeks after graduation in ‘76.”

“OK,” Summer replied, “with a guy who did it with your aunt when you were like eighteen months old?”

“Why? I’m legal and it’s not like he’s ancient!”

“Thanks; I think,” I replied.

“Winter; you’d really watch?” Autumn asked.

“Wouldn’t YOU?”

“Duh! But you aren’t me!”

“I don’t recall sex being a spectator sport!” Brooke retorted.

“It is if you want it this morning!” Winter declared.

“You’d really let her control you this way?” Brooke asked.

“I believe, given the current circumstances, that’s the appropriate course of action on my part. It’s basic respect.”

“She’s not your girlfriend or anything.”

“Winter, OK to share?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“She’s basically been living with me the past two weeks.”

Autumn gasped, “No! Fucking! Way!”

Winter winked at me, “Actually, every fucking way and every way fucking!”

“I think our baby sister is a ‘bad girl’ now,” Summer laughed. “A VERY bad girl!”

“I’m also probably going to move to Chicago,” Winter said casually.

“What?!” her sisters gasped.

She was really hitting every hot button with them.

“He needs someone to take care of his house; it pays WAY better than the diner and it gets me out of Rutherford; not to mention bedroom privileges!”

“You’d just pick up and move?” Summer asked.

“Why not? I was going to do that with that loser Mickey. I’m still not sure what I want to do. This way I’m in a big city where I can meet lots of people, can save some money, can go to college, eventually, or get a better job than I can probably find around here. There have to be at least a couple of hundred thousand eligible guys in Chicago! There aren’t even that many people in all of Harding County!”

“And bedroom privileges?” Autumn asked.

“My own room, but the opportunity to get my brains screwed out when I want. And to answer your question from last week, yes, he IS that good! I think Brooke actually confirmed that!”

“Now I regret not getting my test!” Autumn said, shaking her head.

“You snooze, you lose!” Brooke laughed.

“You’re going to let her watch?” Autumn gasped.

“I’m thinking about it! But he hasn’t actually said he WOULD do it.”

Winter leaned over and whispered in my ear and I laughed out loud then nodded.

“I will if you will!” Winter said to Brooke.

“What about us?” Autumn demanded.

“You can’t do it with him, so you lose totally!”

“You suck!” Autumn spat.

“And I swallow!” Winter replied with a smirk.

“What do you say, Brooke?” I asked.

She sighed and shook her head, “I can’t.”

She picked up the paper and tossed it to me. I was suddenly VERY concerned for her. I unfolded the paper and it was blank!

“What?”

“It was meant to tease Summer and Autumn. I never thought it would get to this point. Now I regret that I didn’t actually have my test.”

“More for me, then,” Winter said smugly.

The conversation basically died at that point, so Winter and I finished our coffee and got up to leave the house.

“Thanks for breakfast and the fun conversation,” I said. “I really enjoyed all the teasing and joking.”

“You’re welcome,” Summer replied. “It was fun. Come again!”

“He will!” Winter smirked. “Several times! In me!”

“Get out of here!” Autumn growled.

I took Winter’s hand and we headed towards the front door. I’d just opened it when Brooke came up behind us.

“I’m going to get tested regularly,” she said quietly. “If you’re ever in town, come see me.”

I nodded, “Count on it.”

Winter and I left and got into the car to drive back to the motel.

“That was crazy!” Winter laughed.

“So you like to watch?” I asked. “And be watched?”

“To blow my sisters’ minds? I’d do it! I mean, we did it in front of Vickie and Brooke is totally cool. Autumn would have been beside herself if it had actually happened!”

“I got that drift.”

“Brooke’s going to be disappointed, isn’t she?”

“You mean because I probably won’t come back?”

“Yes.”

“I’m always reluctant to say ‘never’, but it’s not likely.”

We arrived back at the motel and had just enough time for a fun screw and a shower before I walked Winter across the street to Lou’s for her shift. I went back to the motel, made some tea, and called home to talk to Kara, Maria Cristina, and the kids. I confirmed I’d be home late in the afternoon on Sunday, and after we hung up, I took out my laptop to write in my journal.

I’d written about two hundred words when someone pounded on the door. I got up, went to the door, opened it, and stood face-to-face with a red-faced man in a charcoal gray business suit. His eyes were bulging and he was breathing heavily.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“What did you do to my daughter?!” he demanded.

He had to be Vickie’s dad. I certainly wasn’t going to make this easy for him. She was eighteen, so I knew I was on completely safe ground no matter what HE might think.

“I’m sorry,” I replied evenly, “who are you?”

“I’m Reverend Tim Saddler!”

“I’m not interested in joining any church,” I replied.

“Don’t get smart with me! What did you do with my daughter?”

“I’m not sure I know your daughter,” I replied. “I had a bit of business in town and now I’m on vacation. I haven’t met too many people.”

“My daughter is Victoria! What did you do to her?”

“I met someone named Vickie who’s a friend of a friend,” I replied. “Isn’t she eighteen?”

“That’s irrelevant!”

I shook my head, “No, it’s not. I have nothing to say to you.”

“I’ll have you arrested!” he spat, then turned away.

“Good luck with that,” I called after him.

I closed the door and shook my head. Twenty-one hours and I’d have been out of town. Now I had Kent van der Meer, well, his Rutherford equivalent, coming after me. I wondered if my best course of action wasn’t to go across the street, tell Winter what had happened, and head home. I knew there was no REAL trouble I could be in, but I was sure the Reverend Saddler could stir things up in a way that would be less than pleasant.

There was a soft knock at the door. I turned and opened it to see Paul Reynolds.