Chapter 16

"Sara," I said, "let's visit the ladies room."

Some unnecessary troubles were brewing in paradise that I could fix before they grew out of proportion.

We were dining. Shrimp scampi for me; I don't know what the others ordered, but when it came to seafood, I wasn't very adventuresome. I loved shrimp, detested salmon and was indifferent about cod. Why risk ordering something I've never tasted? I reasoned.

Risk was Sara's problem too. She'd mentally listed every possible excuse or reason why she shouldn't encourage my father to make a pass at her.

Inside the restroom, I said, "Sara, if you want my dad, go for it."

Her dark complexion deepened with a blush. "He doesn't... won't... ah, he wouldn't be interested in me, Katy."

"That's not what I hear or feel. He thinks you're just about the prettiest thing he's seen in ages. Good gracious, just a glance at you makes his blood run warmer." Hot, actually, but I didn't want Sara to think I was exaggerating.

My comment brightened her mood, but only briefly.

"I'm damaged goods," she muttered.

"Where? From what I can see, damaged doesn't describe you, just the opposite. You're drop-dead gorgeous, Sara. It amazes me that you can't see how truly beautiful you are."

"I'm damaged here," she said and knocked on her head, "in my mind."

I huffed a laugh. "True. Is the condition temporary or permanent?"

She scrunched up her face. "I don't know. I hope it's temporary."

"Would getting well and truly laid help or hurt?"

Her deep-dimpled smile and trilling laugh lit up the already bright ladies room.

"Of course for all I know," I added, "Dad could be a dud in the sack. I can't attest to how well he'll perform; you'll need to find that out for yourself. Listen, Sara, my father is concerned about what he refers to as your delicate condition. Add the fact that he thinks he's too old for you to be truly interested in him, and you could wait until the next ice age before he'd make a pass at you. So, if you want him, you've got to go for it, girlfriend."

"What if he turns me down?"

I shrugged.

"He'll think I'm a slut."

With a chuckle, I asked, "Are you?"

"No!"

Her pained expression cracked me up, and my laughter must have been contagious because Sara started to laugh, too, not as heartily as me, but still she laughed.

When I calmed down, I said, "Sara, sluts don't go a year or more without getting laid. I've a suggestion if you want to hear it."

"Please, any and all advice is greatly appreciated."

"Just be yourself. Get to know him, and let him get to know you. We'll be in Denver for a while. Let him know you're interested in him, sexually and otherwise. Don't jump his bones, but make it obvious you wouldn't be opposed if he jumped yours, and don't hold on dearly to any unreasonable expectations, like tripping him so he falls between your lovely legs tonight. Dad's a cautious man, a long ways from compulsive, so give him a little time. I've told you his objections. He thinks he's too old for you. Is he?"

"Good gracious no! I think he's handsome, very debonair..."

I laughed. "Debonair?" I'd never considered Dad debonair.

"Yeah, he's sophisticated, Katy, suave and charming and sensitive without being full of himself. He's a college professor for heck sakes. I barely finished college. How old is he?"

"Thirty-nine."

"I'm almost thirty. Uh-uh, he's not too old for me. I'm more worried about being too young for him."

I shook my head in dismay.

"You're over intellectualizing the situation, Sara. Try not to try too hard. Anyway, as I was saying, step one: make sure he knows you don't think he's too old for you. Step two: let him know your condition isn't so delicate you can't enjoy a little lovin'."

She gazed off into the distance, while her thoughts considered my proposal. "Okay, I'll try it your way. Will you help?"

"Sure. How?"

"Let him know I'm interested."

"How interested?"

"My heart goes pity-pat when I look at him."

"That's it? Just a little pity-pat?"

She groaned. I read her mind.

"That wet, huh?" I asked.

She blushed. "Yeah."

Later, Dad and I were waltzing, doing a pretty fair job of it to, even if I do say so myself, when I decided to inform him that Sara wanted his body, as if he needed being told. It would take a blind man to miss how attracted she was to him, and my dad needed eyeglasses only for reading.

"She thinks you think she's too young for you," I said as we glided gracefully around the dance floor.

"Who?"

"Droll, Dad. Get real."

"Humph."

"She also thinks you're sophisticated and debonair. Sophisticated, maybe, but I don't see debonair. She does, though."

He frowned. "You're right. She's wrong. I'm much too common to be labeled debonair."

He spun me around and tried to shut down his thoughts - unsuccessfully. Being considered debonair pleased him. Go figure.

"Suave, too," I added. "What else? Yeah, I remember. Charming, sensitive and handsome. You're certainly charming, sensitive and handsome. I had to agree with her there. Except for debonair and possibly suave, she's got you pegged. She also has the hots for you. She says you make her heart go pity-pat. I won't tell you what you do to her panties."

"Katy!"

"Oh, don't play at being shocked. You're delighted, not shocked."

He laughed and stepped on my toe.

"Sorry."

"Nope, definitely not suave. Suave men don't step on their dancing partners' feet, but you're still sophisticated, charming, sensitive and handsome. Not all bad. Waddaya think of her?"

"What are you doing? Trying to be a matchmaker?"

I laughed and stepped on his toe.

"Sorry. Obviously grace isn't my middle name."

"It should be. You're incredibly graceful considering your height, Katy."

"Why thank you, Daddy Dearest. You're incredibly biased, though."

"True."

"You didn't answer my question."

"She's stunningly beautiful, and sex appeal oozes from her pores. She also has a..."

"I know - a delicate condition. Sara might be delicate, but she's also horny. It's been a while for her, Dad, long enough that the pressure is clouding her thinking. She'd have to be looking through a cloud to actually see you as debonair."

He huffed and snorted. "Matchmaker."

"Uh-uh. Just in the middle. She thinks she's damaged goods, that you couldn't possibly be interested in her."

"Damaged?"

"Her mind."

"Oh."

"She's right, too. You're put off by her delicate condition, afraid you'll do something that will cause her more unhappiness."

The song ended.

"When we finish the task that brought us to Denver, Katy, we're going home. What happens if... ?"

"Argh! You're as bad as she is. 'What happens if... ?' you say. 'He couldn't possibly... ' she says. As Jason said, the two of you worry too much. You want her. She wants you. We'll be here for a while. Don't rush it, but don't go out of your way to avoid it, either. Frankly, I think a little lovin' would do both of you a world of good. Of course, my opinion isn't worth much. I'm just in the middle."

Still later, Dad and I were sitting out a dance and were watching Jason and Sara do the tango.

"She's a better dancer than Hazel," Dad said.

"Who?"

"Droll, Katy."

"Yeah, for a woman with large breasts and womanly hips, she moves well." I chuckled. Dad blushed. "That way, too, I imagine. She really has your motor running, doesn't she?"

"I'd like to say that was none of your business, little missy, but I know you're hearing my thoughts and sharing..." His eyes widened a little. "You're sharing my arousal, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh. Feels good." I won't tell you his thought. It wasn't nice. "Sara's, too. If arousal were measured by temperature, yours would be in the red zone, but Sara's would be blowing the lid off. She's seriously needy, Dad."

He pondered my statement, I guess. His thoughts were so fragmented I couldn't make any sense out of them. I'd noticed this pattern a lot lately when I read Dad's thoughts.

"What are you thinking?" I asked. It had been years since I asked that question. The idea stunned me.

He laughed, hooted, actually. "You're the mind reader. You tell me."

"I can't, and you know it. What are you doing?"

"Reclaiming my mental privacy," he said smugly.

"How?"

"I'm thinking with mental images, not words. At first, I needed the words to create the imagery. Now, I can generate the images with only a few words, in some instances, none at all. Of course, imagery doesn't serve all thought processes, so my mental privacy isn't complete, but some is better than none."

Tears stung my eyes. "I didn't realize my gifts had been such a ordeal for you. I'm sorry, Dad."

He took my hand in his. "Don't apologize, cupcake. Your gifts are miraculous. Oh, they make you different, unique, and can be a trial, but what is really unbelievable is how well you handle your gifts. You've heard personal, private thoughts ranging from vile to sublime, and you're still, for the most part, unaffected by what you've heard. You're still sweet and loveable, not jaded or overly cynical. You make me proud, Katy."

His love washed over me, and more tears flushed my eyes - happy tears this time. He saw what was coming, but he didn't stop me. Yep, you've got it. Wet kisses and an enthusiastic hug.

"Does Jason know about the image trick?"

"No. Should I tell him?"

"Uh-uh, not yet. Soon, though. Wanna know why?"

"Let me guess. You want to be sure he accepts and loves you just the way you are, warts and all."

"Sara's correct. You are wise. Loveable, too."

He looked curious, so I told him about the circumstances behind my statement. "Of course, she believes you're wise and loveable because that's how I described you to her. She hadn't met you yet. If you continue to shy away from her, she might retract loveable. If she takes back the loveable part, I'll be forced to withdraw the wise part, which will leave your description blank. Wanna be blank?"

He exhaled a snort. "So, you're saying I should go for it?"

"Yep."

"What happens if... ?"

My laugh cut him off.

"Give me a break, Katy. What happens if she falls in love with me? In a week or two, you and I will return to Phoenix. What then?"

"That would depend on whether you fall for her, too. If you don't, she'll need to live with it."

"I'm reluctant to add another level of emotional trauma to her already heavy emotional burden."

"What would you do if you fall for her, but she decides you're not the man for her? That's what you're really worried about, isn't it? That's why you've never remarried. You were in love once, and the woman you loved left you and broke your heart, a heart that isn't whole even after so many years."

Dad turned his eyes from Jason and Sara to me. "You're awfully wise for a seventeen-year-old girl."

"Blame my gifts. They've matured me beyond my chronological age. Besides, I listened to a few private and silent conversations you had with Mom that gave me some glaring clues. I'm confused, though. You were willing to risk a broken heart with the Cornwell woman. Why not take the risk with Sara?"

"Humph," he muttered while shutting down his thoughts.

"Dad, you delve too deeply into everything. What-ifs are circular. That pretty lady dancing like a dream out there turns you on. You turn her on. There's another what-if you haven't mentioned, the most likely what-if of all. What if you have sex with her and she doesn't fall in love with you, and you don't fall in love with her, but you both enjoy the sex and intimacy so much you do it over and over again until we fly back to Phoenix after we extract little Donna from the clutches of the bad guy?"

"I guess your scenario is as likely as any," he said.

Then I realized I was wrong. My most likely what-if was full of holes. Deep down, I knew Sara would fall hard for him. Look at him! How could she not? My dad is the most loveable man in the whole wide world.

"I retract my what-if. She'll fall for you. Count on it."

"Argh. As a matchmaker, you make a better tango dancer."

"I don't do the tango."

"I rest my case."

Jason and Sara joined us at our table, but Sara didn't sit down. She tugged at my father's hand. "Your turn, professor."

He smiled and let her pull him to his feet and didn't object when she moved gracefully into his arms.

When they'd danced out of earshot, I took Jason's hand in mine. "What happens if Sara falls in love with my dad, and we fly back to Phoenix in a week or two? Will she fall apart?"

Jason grinned and stated the obvious. "Not if she has Donna back in her life."

I relaxed. Jason had put the situation in perspective for me.

"What happens if your father falls for her, but she doesn't fall for him?" Jason asked.

"She'll re-break his heart."

"Re-break?"

"Yeah, he still pines for my mother. What dance is this?"

He laughed gaily. "The old-fashioned two step."

"Really?"

"Yep. Wanna try it?"

"You bet. This is my kind of dance. I can rub up against you until your cute one becomes a long one."