The Secret Virgin

by Kate Gilead

  “I know how you feel, buddy,” I say. “I’m a night person too. But, she’s a morning person. Er, morning canine. If you can’t deal with that, then I’m afraid it’ll never work out between you.”

  I get up, put coffee on and let both dogs out into the yard to do their morning business. When the coffee is ready and both dogs are back inside, I text my mom in Florida to ask if she and my Dad have a minute to Skype.

  They do. In a few minutes, I’m looking at my mom on the screen.

  “Hi baby,” she says, leaning forward and squinting at me. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Doug, come on, honey,” she says, “Brenda’s on the camera now.” I hear movement and see my Dad’s hand enter the frame and grow to gigantic proportions as he reaches for the cam to adjust it. I hear the squeak of chair wheels and some shuffling and then he sits down, both of them in view.

  “We can see you, honey, can you see us?” Mom asks.

  “Just look at the little square, sweetheart, that’s her view of us. Remember I told you how that works?” Dad says.

  “I don’t use this thing enough to remember anything…oh, yeah, there we are.” She squints. “Oh my God I keep forgetting how terrible I look on this cam thingie,” she says, her hand going to her hair.

  “Sweetie, it’s Sunday morning,” Dad says. “Besides, you look great. A super-model would be jealous.”

  “Ohhh, you,” she says, and rolls her eyes. “Listen to your father, what a flatterer!” she says to me, squinting at the screen and grinning.

  We’re in the middle of exchanging pleasantries when Diesel walks into the view of the camera, sniffing the floor, Princess following behind him. He comes over to me and nudges my hand.

  My parents watch in silence.

  “Ahem,” I say. “Mom, Dad…this is Diesel.”

  “Diesel?” Mom says. “Is that…Brenda, did you get another dog? He’s huuuuuge!”

  Dad says nothing, just looks at me pointedly, then his eyes follow Diesel as the dog walks out of his view again.

  “Yes…but, not exactly.” Hastily, I give them a short version of what happened with Colton at the dog park.

  “….and I’m going to try to find a home for him. I’ve already asked Amanda to ask around at work. If I don’t find something soon, I’ll put an ad on Craigslist or something.”

  “Okay, dear. I’m just happy that you’re not seeing that nasty boy any more.” Mom says. “So rude and inconsiderate! We never liked him, you know.”

  “That’s what Amanda said, yeah.”

  “All’s well that ends well,” Dad says, clearly not interested in my romantic drama. “Call that dog over so I can see him again.”

  I do.

  “What kind of dog is that?” he asks.

  “The shelter said Shepherd and Rottweiler.”

  “Sparky had some Shepherd in him. He had the same kind of shaggy fur on his haunches and his tail, remember?”

  “Yep,” I say.

  “Does he know how to do his peeps and poops outside?” Mom asks.

  “Yes, mom,” I say, laughing. “He’s house-trained.”

  “Okay,” she says. “Sparky had some big poops, remember? Good Lord!”

  “Hah! How could I forget? How old is Diesel, Bren?” Dad asks.

  I tell him.

  “I kind of like the look of that dog,” he says. “Beverly? Don’t you like the look of that dog? Hey, Diesel, hey boy,” he says to the screen. Diesel cocks his head at the computer monitor. “Yeah, you’re a big boy, aren’t ya?” Dad says. Diesel cocks his head in the other direction, raising his nose to sniff.

  Oh wow! I stay very still and quiet, not daring to say a word.

  “Oh I dunno, Doug! He’s so big! He’s huuuuge,” Mom says doubtfully.

  “He’s not much bigger than Sparky,” Dad says.

  I say nothing but hope is blooming in my chest.

  “Yes, he is, Doug. I think he’s a lot bigger than Sparky, actually.” She squints at Dad and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “You…you’re not thinking of having another dog, are you? After how hard it was to let Sparky go?”

  “Hey, Diesel,” Dad says again, quietly. Diesel sits down, looking at the screen, ears perked.

  Dad sits back in his chair and clears his throat. “Well..I dunno.” He looks at mom and takes her hand. “It was hard letting Sparky go, but…it was nice to have a dog to walk. It was nice to have a dog, period. I miss that.”

  Mom looks at me and narrows her eyes, but the corners of her mouth are twitching. “Brenda, I swear, you’d get away with murder.” Then, to my dad, she says, “Well, we’re going back home soon. If she still has the dog, we can make up our minds then. How’s that?”

  Dad looks at her and nods soberly, as if meeting the dog is gonna make him change his mind. “Sure sweetie, that’s reasonable. Brenda, don’t get too attached though.”

  Quickly, almost imperceptibly, he drops me a wink.

  I contain my joy and manage to nod soberly. “Okay, Dad.”

  “There’s one other thing,” I say, and I tell them about Robert and the first date we just had. “I really like him,” I add. “If all goes well, maybe he could drop by and meet you when you’re home.”

  “You don’t let any moss grow under your feet, do you Brenda?” Dad says drily. “Ever heard of a rebound relationship?”

  “Yes Dad but… I mean, Colton and I didn’t…we weren’t, um, you know…all that close.”

  He stares at me, then holds up his hand, wincing. “don’t say any more, please. Geez! I’m trying to say…frying pan, fire…you know what I mean, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’m saying, I don’t think that applies because I barely knew Colton, really. It was on and off for six months. We hardly saw each other and we weren’t close.”

  “Okay, okay. What’d you say this Robert’s last name is?

  “I didn’t, but it’s Mollenkamp, Dad. He said his family is local from way back.”

  “Mollenkamp? Is his father’s name Ken?”

  “That, I don’t know. I haven’t met his family yet.”

  “Well, you won’t be meeting Ken. He passed away a long time ago now, God rest him. He was in my class in high school. Hah! I used to smoke…ah, cigarettes with him in the smoking area.”

  “What? Really? Cigarettes, huh?” I tilt my head, grinning. First I ever heard of Dad smoking cigarettes.

  “Never you mind. Ken married Rose DuBoise. Robert’s gotta be their kid, of course he is. They had two sons quick…like, in two years, boom boom….” He stops and thinks for a moment. “And both of those kids would be…a good few years older than you. How old is this Robert?”

  I tell him.

  “Yeah, I think that’s little Robbie!” Mom interjects. “My friend Sherry is friends with Rose. I think Robbie and Nicholas might’ve even played together a couple times, when they were small.”

  “Could be,” Dad says to mom. Then, to me: “That’s a grown man, not a boy. I hope you’re not getting in over your head.”

  “Um, Dad? He’s not even as old as Nick.”

  He shrugs. “Nick’s my son, Robert isn’t. Any other questions?”

  “No…nope. I get it. But…I…what can I say? It just…happened. Just give him a chance. Maybe you’ll like him.”

  They’re both quiet for a moment.

  “Well, I’m sure he’s fine, dear,” Mom says, sighing. “We kind of know his family, even though we haven’t stayed in touch. But your father’s right. Look before you leap, that’s all.”

  “I know.”

  “And of course, if you’re still seeing him, we’ll be happy to meet him when we come home.”

  “When is that again?”

  “Around the first of the month. I don’t know how long we’re staying though. It depends on when your dad gets his meetings wrapped up.”

  We end with the usual talk about making sure I lock the doors and turn off the stove. They send me their love and we sign off.
/>
  As soon as I shut the webcam off, I jump out of my seat and do a dance of joy, singing “Whoop whoop, yeah baby, Diesel’s got a new home!”

  Both dogs ramble excitedly around me, huffing and prancing themselves. Princess makes a fake-charge at Diesel, who jumps out of the way, then lays on his belly on the floor, front legs splayed and glee in his eyes. They play a silly game of bitey-face, fake-growling and tussling while I dance my way into the kitchen for breakfast.

  Chapter Eight

  Brenda

  I don’t hear from Rob at all the rest of that day, until he texts me a quick good night just before bed. I send him a kiss emoji, which he follows up with one of his own.

  Monday morning, he texts me first thing, asking to meet up at the dog park that night. I agree, but we’re both at work and don’t have time to talk any more.

  That night, we meet at the park. We kiss and hug, as if we’ve been doing it for years. Excitedly, I tell Rob the good news about Diesel.

  “Your Dad likes dogs, huh? Awesome!” he says, putting an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head.

  “Yes, and…well, I mentioned you.” I tell him how our parents knew each other in the past. Neither of us is too surprised considering how everyone in town knows everyone else.

  “Ha! Yeah, that figures. If our parents are the same age, then they had you a little late in life, huh?” I shrug. “They’re not worried that I’m too old for you? Or that, it’s too soon after Colton?” He doesn’t waste any time zero-ing in on their exact concerns.

  “Actually, yes, they mentioned some stuff. But…there doesn’t need to be any pressure. If it doesn’t work out, then…”

  “Brenda, I don’t know about you, but I intend to make sure it works out.” He kisses the top of my head again, making a loud, satisfactory smack with his lips, as if to punctuate his vow.

  The rest of that week, we meet at the dog park every night. We have fun with the dogs and get to know each other, talking, teasing, laughing, and kissing every chance we get.

  It’s increasingly hard to keep our hands off of each other, especially because the park is so vast and offers so much privacy. It’s the biggest one in Merlington, a huge expanse of rolling hills, dotted with forested areas, grassy fields with smaller groves of trees and several nicely-appointed rest areas, all connected by the winding, lamp-lined path.

  Friday night, we find ourselves alone in a secluded area. The dogs have had their romp, Princess is in her carrier and Tiny, panting, flops down to rest. Diesel is still wandering around, sniffing, but he’s obviously content.

  It’s a still, quiet evening, a bit on the cold side. We’re standing in the lee of a couple big rocks, kissing. We’re both due to spend time with our respective families in short order and won’t be seeing each other later. So, we’re trying to make the most of our time in the park.

  And doing a pretty good job of it, if you ask me. My body doesn’t feel the chill, because his kisses and his touch are setting it on fire. I’ve only known this man for a week but I want him with everything I am.

  I don’t know if it’s real, or if such a thing could be real. All I know is, my body doesn’t care.

  We stand close together, facing each other. He’s looking down at me, his eyes shining with intensity.

  “This is nuts,” he whispers, cupping my chin and rubbing his thumb over my lips. I kiss and then nip at it, my eyes half-closed, my cleft soaked and clenching with every kiss. “I want you so bad, but it’s more than that. Brenda, I never believed in love at first sight, but…”

  “Oh God, I know,” I moan. I put my arms around his waist, under his coat, and step as close to him as I can. “Me neither. Maybe it’s…well, maybe it’s lust. Chemistry. Attraction. Hormones.” Even as I say it, I know that it’s all that…but also that it’s something more.

  “Or, karma,” he says, putting into words what’s been floating around in my mind.

  “Karma, as in, something meant to be?” He kisses me again, softly.

  “Yes. Written in the stars…decided by forces greater than ourselves, before we were born.” He laughs but something that feels like a shock of electricity goes through me. It seems to start in my heart and travel outwards, settling in the warm valley between my legs.

  “If you believe in that kind of thing, that is,” he adds. “I’m not saying I do, but…”

  Against my belly, I can feel his flesh throbbing, and I grind myself against it, making him moan and close his eyes. “Damn,” he breathes, and steps back, putting his hands on my shoulders.

  “I want to take you home right now,” he says. “I wish we’d known each other longer! It’s too soon but it feels like I’ve been waiting for you forever.”

  Suddenly, I lose all patience with the whole idea of waiting. “You know what? I don’t care! Who says waiting is so hot anyway? Who says it’s always the right thing to do?”

  “Brenda…”

  “Seriously. Even Amanda lectured me about this the other day. Maybe I shouldn’t mention this, but it turns out that Colton told some people that I had sex with him on the first date. I didn’t, but it got back to her and she believed it. She brought it up when I told her that I met you the same day I broke up with him.”

  “Huh. I guess I’m not surprised that he’d slander you,” he says. “But that’s really ironic, considering what he said to you that day at the park. You remember?”

  “Um…he said a few things. Which was it, exactly?”

  “He called you as useless as Diesel because you don’t put out.” He makes quote marks in the air with his fingers then hugs me to his chest, as if to comfort me.

  “Oh, right. God, so embarrassing!” I hide my face in his jacket.

  “He’s the one who should be embarrassed.”

  “I know, but…look. The point is, Colton didn’t…I mean, I wasn’t attracted to him. I told you that he started working out of town almost as soon as we started dating. Then he left the country for six weeks over the holidays! We only had, like, a handful of dates. I barely knew him and I never slept with him.”

  “I believe you.”

  “I barely know you, either, yet you make me want you. For one thing, you…you’re an awesome kisser.”

  “Oh yeah? You mean, like this?” He kisses me, slow and steamy.

  “Yes,” I say when we’re done, breathing a little harder, “and for another thing, who’s to know if we did meet later tonight? Who’s to know if we got together and um, porked ourselves silly?”

  “Porked ourselves? As in…go pork yourself?” He laughs.

  I smile too but I’m trying to be serious right now. “Remind me why I’m waiting again? So that you won’t think I’m a slut? Isn’t that what they call virtue signalling?”

  He shrugs, his expression hard to read. What’s he thinking? “Look,” he continues. “I think you know that the reason to wait is to get to know each other. Have some emotional intimacy before we have physical intimacy.” He pulls me towards him for another quick squeeze.

  “Yes, of course I know. I’m just…I’m just frustrated.”

  “Tell me about it,” he says. But his eyes are gleaming. Is he…is he enjoying my frustration? I think he is. Based on how he’s looking at me, it’s turning him on.

  He’s enjoying the tease..which is kinda hot, when I think about it..

  “But sex encourages emotional intimacy. People build strong bonds with sex,” I say.

  “In the right context, yeah. And I do think we have the right context. Or, we’re building it. But, let’s wait until at least the second date, okay?” He’s looking at me in a warmly amused and very flirty way. “I’ll feel better if we give it at least that long.”

  “That’s tomorrow then,” I say.

  “Brenda. You have no idea what you’re doing to me. But, I don’t think we should make having sex on a given date a goal. I want you, of course, but I don’t want to rush it…I don’t want to ruin it.”

  My body doesn’t
think we’ll ruin it but I don’t want to argue the point. “Okay.”

  He laughs, and pulls me to him again. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic!”

  I wrinkle my nose at him. “Hey, maybe I could come to your place, or, you could come to mine. We could play some video games on split-screen.”

  “That sounds nice,” he says. “If you promise not to molest me.”

  “Dang! You are foiling my evil plans,” I laugh.

  “Heh. I’d be a willing vic…oh, shit. Hang on, I forgot. I’ve…I’ve been slacking on getting my house in order. I hate unpacking. The kitchen’s a mess, full of boxes of kitchen stuff my mom gave me. And I haven’t unpacked the living room either. I’m not even sure which box my gaming console is in.”

  “Oh. And you don’t want me to see your place in a mess?”

  “Weellll…it’s not that bad, it’s just disorganized.”

  “Why don’t you let me help you then? That’d be a good second date, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe for me…but not so much you? Helping me unpack isn’t very romantic.”

  “Yeah…but…I always thought romance was about the people involved, more than the scenery. I mean, you could have two people on a…I dunno, say, a yacht…or a cruise ship…on a moonlit night in a tropical lagoon…but if they don’t like each other…what then?”

  “Good point. Have I told you that I like the cut of your jib?”

  “Glad to hear that, Cap’n. Let me know if you’re ever looking for a First Mate.”

  He chuckles. “I have an opening coming up in that department.”

  “Where should I send my résumé?”

  He cups my chin and kisses me. “Don’t worry about it… you’re hired.”

  My tryst with Rob at the dog park makes me late, so I have to rush to get to Nick and Amanda’s for dinner. When I get there, the bird is ready and everyone is waiting for me. Amanda’s parents, Bernie and Carol, have made the two-hour drive down from Cleveland for the night. It’ll be nice to see them, and awesome to get another good home-cooked meal.