Chapter 9

My fork stopped, halfway to my mouth. I tried to grapple with the fact that my ... girlfriend, for lack of a better word ... had broken up with me, hadn't told me that yet, and already had a new boyfriend. Talk about an ambush.

"Oh," I said. What else was there to say?

"I'm so sorry, Bob," Lynne said. She sounded genuinely sorry.

I ignored the hard ball of almost-pain in the pit of my stomach and put the fork back down on the plate. I would force myself to eat that pie, but that could wait.

"We already talked about this," I said. "Mission accomplished." Guys try to put on a good face and I'm no different. "Might have been nice to have some notice, but this is what we wanted," I said, trying to sound casual.

"So you really didn't know about this?"

"Not a clue," I said.

"I can't believe it," she said tightly.

"You're the one who told me what would happen," I reminded her.

"Not that," she said, looking angry. "I can't believe she blindsided us on this. There was no warning!"

That was true. Just last week I'd gotten a call from Jill, late at night, and she asked me to masturbate with her. It had been wonderful. She'd said she loved me.

"And she's being so bald faced about it!"

"At least she called and asked," I said. "That's better than just showing up with him I guess."

"That's not what I meant," said Lynne. "She said..." She went pale. "I don't want to tell you what she said."

I wanted to groan, but didn't. "May as well get it over with," I said instead. "I'm probably going to find out sooner or later."

I thought she wasn't going to say anything else, but finally she swallowed and spoke.

"She took me completely by surprise, but my natural instinct was to try to put up some kind of barrier. I told her the guest room was full of junk and that I wasn't going to have time to get it cleaned and ready." She swallowed again and looked away. "She said he could just stay in her room."

I think I was the one who went pale then. That groan I had suppressed before came out too.

"She's acting like a selfish, gutless bitch!" snapped Lynne.

My world was upside down, but I kept thinking of all the objections Lynne had made, back when Jill and I had ... taken up together. She had tried to warn me. She had discouraged the whole affair. Her daughter had acted just like she had said she would. But Jill was still her daughter ... still her child ... and I didn't want this to ruin that relationship. I dredged up some character from somewhere.

"Easy there," I said. "She's young. She didn't think this would happen. She's probably embarrassed."

"She SHOULD be embarrassed. She's only been gone for what, two months? She threw you over for some pimply faced college boy after only two months!"

"I doubt he has pimples," I said. I was amazed that I was hiding a smile. "And, like I said, this is exactly what we wanted to happen."

"Not like this!" she moaned. "She was supposed to be wracked with guilt, and torn between you and some boy. There was supposed to be anguish and pain, not 'hey mom can I bring my new shack-boy home so I don't have to go without during break?'"

Her eyes got wide and her mouth went into a small, tight O shape.

"I'm so sorry, Bob," she whispered.

"We're beating a dead horse," I said. "Besides, I thought the whole idea was for her NOT to get her heart broken. Based on what you told me ... I'd say it worked out pretty well for her." I picked up the fork and took the first bite of pie. I couldn't taste it, but I chewed anyway and swallowed convulsively.

"What should I do?" she asked.

"What do you mean what should you do?" I asked back.

"Should I let her bring him?"

"You're going to have to meet him sooner or later," I said. "She's still your daughter, and if she likes him, it's important that you be the mom."

"I don't want to meet the little prick!" she blurted.

"Admit it," I said, feeling the first upsurge of emotion since I'd gotten there. "You just don't want anybody to have sex with your daughter." I actually managed a grin. "I understand that completely."

She stared at me. "You're a good man, Bob. I'd almost be willing to admit I might have been wrong about you and her, except I'd have to admit I was wrong." She blinked and frowned. "You're taking this much better than I would if the roles were reversed."

"What can I do about it?" I said, shrugging my shoulders. I could taste the pie now. It would be a while, but I'd heal. It had been a delightful run, and I'd always have the memory of a young woman wanting me and welcoming me. That's hard to beat.

"So I should tell her she can bring him?"

"It's your decision, of course," I said. "But that's what I'd recommend."

"I can't just let her sleep with her new boyfriend in my house!" moaned Lynne. "I know that sounds hypocritical, based on what I let you two do, but ... it just makes my skin crawl, Bob!"

"At the risk of sounding hypocritical myself, I'll just say that's something the two of you will have to work out when they get here. It's your house. I think you get to make the rules."

"I know her," sighed Lynne. "That's going to go over like a lead balloon."

"You'd have had to face that decision sooner or later too," I said, shrugging.

She just looked at me for a dozen seconds.

"What will you do?" she asked.

"I have no idea," I said. "I promise not to shoot him, or anything like that."

She snorted, and that tiny bit of humor gave her a release for all the emotion pent up inside her. She snorted again and then laughed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just had this vision of you dressed up like Rambo, with one of those machine guns and the long belt of ammo, storming through the front door yelling 'Where is he!'"

I smiled. "I probably couldn't even lift a machine gun."

I ate the rest of my pie, but the humor was lost quickly. With nothing else to talk about, I got up as soon as I was done.

"Thanks," I said.

"What for?" she asked. "I just crushed your heart."

"I'm a big boy," I said. "Thanks for the warning. That's all. I should have listened to you. I should have just said no."

"You would have if you could have," she said. "I'll remember that if..." She stopped and when I looked to see why, she was blushing.

"If what?" I asked.

"Never mind," she said.

"Come on," I wheedled.

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

"Impossible," I said firmly.

"Have you ever heard of a ... um ... a pity fuck?" Her hand came up and covered her eyes. She was gloriously embarrassed, and it was very becoming on her.

"I believe I have," I said, smiling.

"Well, if my daughter breaks your heart ... you might be offered one..."

"Oh my," I said, as she turned and skipped out of the room, obviously too embarrassed to face me further. Nothing in my body reacted to that. Not then. I was still in too much emotional pain. But later I knew I'd reflect on that. Even if it was never offered, the very fact that she'd thought about it was something that made me feel pretty good.

Or would some day, anyway.

Zack, as it turns out, was a junior and had a car, so Lynne didn't have to go pick Jill up. I didn't know what to do, really, so I kept busy on the day they were supposed to arrive by doing chores that didn't really need to be done, like oiling the hinges on the barn doors so they didn't squeak. It was cold, and working in the shed, tightening up boards and doing make-work kept my mind on my physical discomfort, rather than my emotional problems.

Lynne was clearly horrified that her daughter was so thoughtless as to bring home a young man and flaunt him in front of me only a few months after so stubbornly pursuing me as a sexual partner and professing her "love" for me. Lynne's embarrassment hadn't yet led to that pity fuck she had mentioned. Neither of us was ready for that yet, but the possibility was something that helped keep me going. When you're picked up by a cute young chippie it makes you feel younger. When she dumps you, though, you feel twice as old as you did before.

At any rate, I just happened to be moving firewood from the splitting yard to the house when I heard a horn honking repeatedly from the road. I looked up to see Jill leaning out of a speeding Mustang GT, wearing a down-filled jacket and hanging out of the car clear to her waist. She was waving frantically.

"See you in a little while!" she yelled.

Then she was ducking back inside and the car was past my house and braking for the turn into Lynne's driveway.

It figured the little prick would drive a muscle car.

I had the wood stove fired up. I had intended for years to have somebody come out and do some weatherproofing on the old place, or blow in some insulation or whatever they did these days. Somehow I always neglected to call anybody though, and along about this time of year I was reminded that the house wasn't as comfortable as it could be.

I had plenty of wood, though, and could wear sweat shirts and such, so it wasn't all that bad. Recently I had taken to thinking about looking into a winter home, maybe somewhere around Phoenix or something like that, where I could play golf or whatever during the cold months. I felt like I'd be abandoning Lynne if I did that, though.