She falls asleep on top of me, her head cradled on my chest, our bodies slick and sticky and messy, and I don't even care. Eventually, I roll with her, and she twists so I can spoon her and we sleep.
*
It's past one in the morning, and I've been sleeping with one eye open. So when I hear the garage door, I slip quickly out of bed, tug on some shorts and a tank top. Before I can get downstairs to meet her, I hear her voice, and Ben's.
"Dammit, Ben, I'm tired. I want to go inside. I'm probably in major trouble, and I don't have the energy for this conversation right now." She's on the other side of the door leading from the house to the garage.
My hand is on the knob, just like hers probably is. I debate giving her privacy for about six seconds, but then I remember that my job as her father is to be there for her, no matter what, and do the best for her. I have a feeling she'll need me on this side of the door in just a few minutes. So I lean against the doorjamb and listen.
"Just answer me, Kylie," Ben demands.
"What, Ben? What do you want to know?" She sounds tired, and wary.
"Were you with him?"
"Yes, Ben. I was. I was with Oz." The doorknob twists. "Is that it?"
"No. That's not it." He's angry, and I know from experience that's the quickest way to get Kylie to clam up. "What were you doing with him?"
"That's none of your business, Ben."
"The fuck it isn't!" He sounds a little closer. "You're--you're my best friend, and he's--who is he? Some fuck-up new guy. I know for a fact he does drugs. He smokes cigarettes. I smell smoke on you, Ky. What were you doing?"
"I don't owe you any fucking explanations, Ben!" She lets go of the knob and her voice sounds farther away, as if she's moving toward him.
"YES! YOU DO!" Ben is loud, and so, so angry. This wasn't what I had in mind, Ben, I want to say to him.
"Why?" She asks this quietly, far too calmly. She's got that deadly quiet kind of anger, just like me. "Why do I owe you explanations of what I do, and with whom? Tell me, Ben. You're my friend. Not my father. Not my mother. Not my boyfriend."
"You should be. It should be me." He sounds deflated, defeated.
"I--what?" She's confused now.
"It should have been me. With you. It was always supposed to be me. But it's him, and I don't fucking get it."
"Where is this coming from, Ben? We've never been anything but friends. You've...you've never given me the slightest hint that you were interested in me as more than a friend. If it was always supposed to be you, then why didn't you ever say anything?" Her voice is small, wounded, and fraught with tragic despair.
"I--because I thought--you--fuck. Because I thought I had time. I wanted to wait until you graduated, till you were eighteen. You've never been even remotely interested in anyone else. Not in our whole lives. And we're...we've always been together. Sure, we didn't kiss or whatever, but you're--you've always been mine. I thought when you graduated we'd spend the summer together. Go on a road trip. I had--I had it all planned out. We'd head west, and see where the road took us. We'd be friends, at first, like always, and I'd--and in time you'd see how perfect we are for each other." Ben lets out a long, groaning sigh. "And then he came along and...fucked it all up."
"Oh...hell. Benji--why didn't you ever say anything? Why? A year ago? Even six months ago? I'm not saying I would've--that anything would've happened for sure, but if you'd said something then...there may have been a chance." She groans, and then her voice raises to a shout. "And why is everyone so fucking concerned about me being eighteen? Is there some magic in being eighteen versus seventeen? I'm not going to suddenly change in the next two weeks. FUCK!"
"Don't call me Benji. I'm not your Benji." His voice hardens. "Have you had sex with him?"
"That--" she hisses the word, venomous, "is none of your business."
"You have." It's not a question. It's an accusation.
"I'm done talking about this." I hear her footsteps nearing the door, and the knob twists.
"I've been in love with you since I was fourteen, Ky. I've been waiting for the right time for six years."
The knob snaps back into place. "Goddammit, Ben." She sighs. "You waited too long."
"He'll wreck your life. You're choosing him over me, and I promise you, a loser pothead like him will only break your heart."
"That's my choice, Ben." She sniffs, and I hear the hurt in her voice.
"Yeah, well, excuse me for thinking it's the wrong one."
"Is there anything else you'd like to say? If you're gonna call me a whore, now's the time."
"You're not. You're just...misguided. And you know what? I'll always love you." I can almost hear him gearing up for one last attempt. "I'll wait. You'll get tired of his bullshit, and you'll come back to me. And I'll be there."
"I'm not sure if that's sweet or crazy. I'm not coming back to you. I was never yours. You had your chance and you waited too long. You were--my best and oldest and truest friend, Ben. And I--I probably shouldn't say this, but I'm going to. There were times when I wished you would just stop being my friend and kiss me. I thought you were going to, a couple times, but you never did, so I figured I'd been imagining it. I didn't want to ruin what we had. I thought there was no way you'd ever be in love with me. You never showed it. And you've dated all those girls...Lindsay, Alissa, Grace. What was her name, the redhead? Breanna. Oh, yeah, and Hattie. Who has that name, anyway? Hattie? I don't know what you saw in her. She's a lunatic. If you were so in love with me, what was all that about?"
"I thought...if you saw me with other girls, you'd get jealous. And I was...I felt like I'd been waiting for so long, and maybe I was just holding on to how I used to feel. So I thought if I dated other girls it'd clarify things. And it did. It showed me I only wanted you. Those girls, they were fun, and cool. But they weren't you. And yeah, Hattie was a bit...weird. That's why it only lasted two weeks."
"Did you have sex with any of them, Ben?" Her voice now is sharp and accusing.
The silence is deafening.
"You did!" She's shrill with disbelief. "Yeah, Ben. Really in love with me. Waiting for me, huh? You want to know the truth? No, I haven't slept with Oz yet. But I'm going to. We care about each other. I've waited my entire life for the right time, the right guy. It just possibly could've been you. But now...? No. And not just because I'm with Oz. All this? Everything you just told me? Acting like 'oh, I'm so in love with you,' and then oh, wait, just kidding, 'look at all the girls I've fucked.'"
"That's not fair! I didn't sleep with all of them, only--"
"I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!" She shouts him down. "I don't care. It's your business. We're friends, Ben. That's all we were, all we are, and all we'll ever be."
"There's no chance?"
"No. None."
"Fine. Fuck you, too, then." I hear his footsteps moving away.
"Ben! That's not--fucking hell." A long silence extends, and I imagine her watching him walk away. "Goodbye, Ben."
A few seconds later, the door opens and she steps in, closing the door behind her. Her head is down, and I can tell she's crying. She doesn't see me leaning against the counter until she's about to run into me.
She shrieks and drops her keys. "Oh, my god, Dad! You scared the shit out of me!" She picks up her keys, blinking, trying to act like she wasn't crying. "Why are you here in the kitchen by yourself? At...1 a.m.? Shit, it's 1 a.m. I'm in trouble, aren't I?"
"I was waiting for you."
She seems to realize where I'm standing, and glances at the door. "How much of that did you hear?"
"Pretty much all of it."
"You can't just eavesdrop on my private conversations." She wipes at her eyes with her finger.
"Yes, I can. It's my job as your father to know what's going on in your life." I take her by the shoulders and pull her to me. "I'm sorry about Ben, sweetheart."
"Did you know how he felt about me?" Her voice is muffled by my shirt.
"Not until recently. N
ot until Oz showed up, and he started acting weird."
"You didn't say anything."
"Should I have? Would it have changed anything? And would you really have thanked me for butting into your life like that? I don't think so."
She sniffs. "Yeah, you're probably right." She pulls away and sets her keys on the counter, turns to rummage in the fridge for a can of Sprite. "If you heard the whole thing, you probably heard what I said about--about me and Oz."
"Yeah, I heard that, too."
She sips, waits. When she realizes I'm not saying anything, she lets out a muffled belch and frowns at me. "And?"
"Well, shit, Kylie. What am I supposed to say? You're turning eighteen in less than a month. It's going to happen at some point. And I'm glad you've waited this long. I don't really know how to handle this, Kylie. I don't. Just being honest. This is one of those moments I don't think any father is equipped or prepared to deal with. You're not a grown-up yet, but you're close. And I know all too well what would happen if I grounded you forever, or tried to keep you from seeing him. I don't like it. You're my little girl. My only child. And I want you to stay innocent forever. But you won't, and I can't pretend you will. So what do I do? I wish I knew. If I just let you go on with this relationship with Oz, does that make me a bad parent for ignoring what I know for a fact is going on?" I rub my eyes. "And I'm conflicted about Oz. I don't want you to get hurt and, unfortunately, Ben could be right. I mean, anyone can hurt you, and if you're in a relationship, you will get hurt at some point, somehow. But Oz...there're warning signs, Kylie. He's...I'm not saying he's bad news, or that he's a bad person. But--"
"I know, Dad. But there's more to him than everyone seems to see."
"I know that, Kylie. Like you said, I of all people should know that." I let out a long breath. I don't want to bring this up, but I have to. "Have you seen his forearms?"
She closes her eyes and doesn't answer for a long time. The pain I see in her eyes tells me more than her words can. "Yes. I have."
"Do you know how he got those scars?"
"Yes. I do."
This is tricky. "Is it an...ongoing thing?"
She shakes her head. "I don't think so."
"But you don't know for sure."
She drinks from the can and then sets it on the counter, rotating it so the logo spins and spins and spins. "For one hundred percent sure? No. But...we talked about it."
"Kylie, listen." I have to be circumspect about this, careful. "People who...do things to hurt themselves. It's a warning sign of something deeper going on with them. And there's nothing anybody can do to help or to fix that person unless they're ready to be fixed or to be helped."
"This is about Mom, isn't it?"
"It's about Oz, Kylie."
"I've seen Mom's scars, Dad. I know what they are."
"I know, hon. That's from a long, long time ago. She went through a very hard time, and--look, that's her story to tell you, not mine. But, yeah, I know this because of what your mom went through. And I don't want to see you go through...that. Being on the other side of that. Self-mutilation is a big deal. If it's a problem for him, he needs to get help. Help you can't give. I'm sorry, it's just the facts."
Kylie's gaze is sharp, knowing. "You know about it, too, don't you? From your own experience."
I sigh, and find myself unwittingly rubbing at my chest, where my own scars lie, hidden by tattoos. "Yeah, I do. I've been on both sides."
Her eyes latch onto my hand, and I drop it. She looks back up at me. "So you...you understand why he'd have the--the compulsion to do that to himself."
I groan. "Yeah. I do." I don't want to delve into my own history. Especially not with my daughter. She really doesn't need to know about the darkness and the skeletons that haunt my past. "If you're hurting inside, if you've been through something really, really painful, sometimes you just want to feel something else. Anything else. Even if you know it's wrong--that you're hurting yourself. The people in your life who care about you can find it very tough to get through to you. If the pain inside is big enough and bad enough, you don't care. You just need an escape, a sense of relief. No matter how fleeting it is. Same with getting high, or wasted all the time. And that lifestyle? It's bad, Kylie. I don't want you anywhere near that. It's dark, and it's dangerous, and it can suck you under so fast. So fast."
"He's not like that."
"No?"
She ducks her head. "You don't know him, Daddy. You don't know what he's been through."
"I'm not judging him, Kylie. I swear I'm not. I may not know the specifics, but I understand him better than you could ever imagine." I move closer to her, kiss the top of her head. "But you're my daughter, and you're my priority. And you getting dragged through the hell someone like Oz has the capacity for, even unwittingly, without meaning to? I can't stand that. I know I have to let you live your own life, and make your own mistakes and all that, but there's got to be a limit."
"So...now what?"
"You're a smart, responsible girl, Kylie. I trust you. I trust your judgment. You've never given me any reason not to. So I'm going to give you your freedom in this, as much as part of me screams otherwise. Just be careful. With him. Around him. Don't get sucked in. Don't let him continue to hurt himself. And if he can't stop, the only thing you might be able to do is to step away and tell him you can't be with him if he keeps doing it, that you care too much to watch him destroy himself that way. It feels like betrayal, but it's not."
She nods. "That makes sense. I don't think it'll be a problem."
I narrow my eyes. "As for cigarettes--which I do smell on you--and pot, and drinking...don't be stupid, Kylie. Just don't. None of that is worth it. Thinking you'll only do it when you're around him is only lying to yourself. And I will be watching for that. If I catch you smoking, drunk, or high, you'll be in trouble. I expect better from you. This is your one warning." I pause to let that sink in. "As for sex--"
"Got it covered, Dad. Not having that talk with you." She won't look at me, toying with the pop-tab on her can of Sprite.
"I'm going to say it anyway. I don't like it, it makes me uncomfortable, but I'm going to say it anyway. My instinct is to forbid you, to crack down and all that. But unfortunately, I know better. It wouldn't stop you. So all I'll say is be careful. Be safe. If he's been with anyone else, he needs to be tested before anything happens between you two." She starts to protest, and I talk over her. "Shut up and listen, Kylie. This is awkward for me, too. But If I can't stop you, I have to make sure you're safe. You told Ben you haven't...been with...Oz yet. So take precautions before. Be safe in more than one way, okay?" I take a deep breath and force blunt honesty from myself. "That means birth control and condoms. God, I hate having to have this conversation. Not just one or the other, but both. No excuses, no exceptions. I do not want to be a grandfather for a very long time. Got it?"
She nods, still not looking at me. "Yeah. I got it."
I touch her chin. "Kylie. Look at me." She does, and I let her see all my fear, all my worry. "I love you, Kylie. Please, please...just be safe. Be careful. Not just with your body, but with your heart and soul. And trust me when I say, if Oz does anything to hurt you, he'll answer to me."
She lifts her head, her eyes fierce. "No, Dad. He won't. If I get hurt, it'll be my own fault. I'm going into this with him knowing he's...different. He's not--I don't know...tame. But neither are you, Dad. Are you? And you're what I know. You've been my example in life. You're not tame, or safe in some ways. And you may not be nice, but you're good. And so is he."
I nod. "I get it. And I respect that. But my prerogative as your father is to break the face of anyone who fucks with you. And I will, whether you like it or not. So if our boy Oz prefers to have his face in one piece, he'll treat you like the precious thing you are."
Her face softens. "He does, Daddy. He really does."
I hug her. "Good." Another kiss to the top of her head. "And try to get in before one next time, huh?"
"She's all grown up," Nell says.
"I know."
"When did that happen?"
I shrug, shake my head. "I don't know. We blinked, I guess."
She gives me tender smile. "You're a good daddy, Colt."
I sigh. "Am I doing the right thing? Letting her go through with this thing with Oz? It doesn't feel like it. But mentally, I don't think I have any other choice."
She sheds the robe and climbs back into bed, naked. "I think you're right. I'd rather know what she's doing, even if I don't necessarily like it, than forbid her and have her sneaking out."
"Or worse, running away." I'm thinking of myself, seventeen and alone in New York. So young, too young to fend for myself. It's why I swore, when Kylie was young, that I wouldn't make the same mistakes my parents did. But am I making different ones that are just as bad? I worry that there's no way to know, and no way to avoid making mistakes as a parent.
I shed my shirt and climb in beside Nell, feel her warmth against me and her hair tickling my cheek.
No matter how good your kid is, sometimes life has a way of bringing shit to them that no one can foresee or protect against. If that happens to Kylie, I'll just have to be there to help her get through it.
NINE: Germinating Seeds
Oz
Kylie asked me to get tested, so I did, and came back clean. I sat in the waiting room of her doctor's office while she got birth control, and then we went together to buy protection. It felt odd, and strangely comforting, to do all that together. As if we were making decisions together, not merely thinking about the moment but looking at the future. As if we're planning for a future together. The idea gives me hope.
She's eighteen now. I spent her birthday at her parents' house, eating cake, hanging out, laughing, having fun. All the things I've never done on my own birthdays. I gave her a book of sheet music of some of the popular country songs. She loved it.
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