by Amy Polino
The thought of it made me cringe. “I was thinking about Rutgers. Or maybe Brown.”
She nodded thoughtfully. She looked so adorable I wanted to scoot up next to her and put my arm around her. “I suppose it depends on what you’re going for. What’s your major?”
I smiled. “Watching TV and reading.”
She laughed. Her laugh was as beautiful as the rest of her. It actually made me feel tingly, and a sudden wave of sadness washed over me that Susan was almost twice my age. If only I knew someone like her my own age, or if only Dianne hadn’t moved away. Sitting beside her I began to feel even lonelier than I had before. “Well, you’re in your final year of high school, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I guess it’s about time to make those tough decisions. If you really want to start college in the fall, you’ll want to start applying as soon as possible.”
She was right. My father had never even brought it up. I hadn’t either. I was just sliding downhill and he wasn’t paying any attention. It occurred to me that Susan might be a very good influence on both of us. “What did you go for? If you don’t mind my asking?”
“I don’t mind at all. I went for business administration. I can’t say it paid off very well, but I did get a degree.”
“Are you working in your field?”
She frowned. “No. I was, years ago. I was doing quite well until the economy went into a tailspin. Then I lost my job, and was unemployed for a couple of years. I finally ended up taking a job where your father works, but it’s...” She shrugged. “Not what I really want to be doing. And it’s only part time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I really was. It hurt me to know that she’d lost what she’d worked for. I felt certain she didn’t deserve it.
“You’re a very nice young lady.”
“Most people don’t seem to think so.”
“Really?” She seemed genuinely surprised by my response.
I was going to say something else, but then my father was calling us from the kitchen.
“Sounds like he’s ready for us,” Susan said.
I nodded. We both stood up and made our way into the kitchen.
* * *
Dinner was a vegetable lasagna, a large tossed salad and garlic bread. It was delicious, and I ended up eating much more than I usually do. My father seemed to love it, too, as did Susan herself. The three of us polished off the entire thing, leaving not a crumb uneaten.
No one said much during the actual meal because of the focus we all had on the food itself. My father and Susan made a few little attempts at small talk, mostly work related, but none of it seemed to want to go anywhere. It didn’t appear to me that they were all that close or fond of each other. Of course, it’s hard to judge a relationship based on fifteen minutes, but that was my impression.
I was drinking a diet soda, as was Susan. My father had a glass of iced tea and a small glass of scotch. He’d offered some to Susan, but she declined. He took occasional little sips, as if it were medicine, which for him I suppose it was.
We sat around for a few minutes, sipping our drinks and feeling sightly awkward. Then Susan tried to lighten the mood.
“Too bad I didn’t bring any dessert,” she said. “I never even thought about it.”
“I couldn’t eat another bite,” I told her truthfully. “But dinner was delicious. Thank you very much for making it.”
“Yes, thank you,” my father chimed in.
Susan smiled at the comments. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”
“I don’t think there’s any doubt about that,” my father said.
We looked at all the empty plates and dishes and Susan giggled. “No, I guess not.”
After that, everyone got quiet again and for some reason it occurred to me to suggest playing cards. It was something Dianne had taught me, and I hadn’t had a chance to play with anyone since she’d left.
“You mean, poker?” my father asked.
“Poker, or blackjack. Anything.” I was just trying to be social with Susan there, instead of slinking off to my room.
“I don’t know,” he said, pulling at his chin. “I still have a lot of work to do...”
“It sounds fun to me,” Susan said.
It made me happy when she said that. She could have easily blown me off and sided with my father, making some excuse why she had to get going. By saying it sounded fun, it made me think she actually liked me and liked the idea of spending some time together.
“Jeez, I don’t know,” my father complained. “Poker?”
“It doesn’t really matter what game,” I said. “I just thought it might be fun. Since we’re all sitting here anyway.”
“I say we give it a try,” Susan said. “I haven’t played cards in years.” She smiled at me. “As long as we’re not playing for money.”
It was finally agreed on that we would give it a try, and I went to get my deck of cards while they cleaned the dishes off the table. We all refreshed our drinks, and Susan accepted my father’s offer of a small glass of scotch. I would have liked a glass, too, but none was offered to me and I didn’t think it was a good idea to ask.
For the next half hour we played five card stud, taking turns dealing. Susan knew how to play, but my father had to be constantly helped along, and really bogged things down. I kept score on a little pad of paper for some reason, even though it didn’t really matter who won. Eventually we reached the point where my father simply didn’t want to play anymore and began muttering about all the work he had to do.
That was fine with me. It was impossible to have a conversation with Susan anyway, with him and his never-ending inquiries regarding what he should do next with the cards that he’d been dealt.
“I hate to be a party pooper,” he said. “But I really do have a lot of work to catch up on.”
“That’s fine,” I said. I began to put the cards away.
Susan watched me for a moment, and when my father stood up from his chair she leaned forward and grinned at me. “Maybe we could play a few hands, Amy. Just the two of us.”
I loved the idea. My father, however, seemed startled by it.
“Really?” he asked her.
“Sure. You wanted us to get to know each other a little, right?”
“Yeah. Of course. I just...” He looked at me. “You don’t have any homework you need to get done?”
“I did it before dinner.” He could be hard to figure out sometimes. I wasn’t sure what he wanted or expected us to do. I think what it all came down to was that he was uncomfortable when he wasn’t working, and was so socially awkward, even with only his daughter and his supposed girlfriend, that he needed to escape. “You can get some work done, and we’ll play a few hands.”
He picked up his little drink and took a sip. “You don’t mind?” he asked Susan.
She looked up at him. “I’m perfectly fine.” She grinned. “I want to see if I can beat her.”
My father nodded, trying to smile. Then he leaned over and gave her a little kiss on the mouth. He looked very uncomfortable doing it, and it made me wonder again what exactly was going on between them. “Okay. You two have fun. I’ll be in the living room.”
After he left, I shuffled the cards again and started to deal. “Same game okay?”
“Same game is fine.” Susan collected up her cards and took a peek at what she had. I watched her as she examined them, feeling a little excited being alone with her. I can’t tell you how much I wanted to lean across the table and kiss her. And it wouldn’t be one of those dry little pecks my father gave her, either.
She looked up, catching me staring. She smiled at me, leaning back in her chair. “Trying to read my expression?”
“No. I’m sorry.” I tried to concentrate on the card game before I got too distracted. It felt like a strange sort of punishment, sitting there with her knowing that there was nothing I could do or say that would c
hange the situation. If only she were my friend and not my father’s; I wouldn’t even care about the age difference. In fact, I kind of liked it.
We played a couple of hands, and she beat me both times. She seemed to be enjoying the game, and I was completely distracted by her presence and her perfume and her stunning appearance. I know this sounds bad, but I kept having little fantasies about showing her my room and the two of us ending up climbing into my bed together. She was so cute I could barely stand it!
We chatted on and off, but not about anything terribly interesting. She caught me starting at her a few more times, and each time I smiled and looked away, embarrassed. Finally, during our third hand, she caught me again and asked me if everything was okay.
“Fine,” I said.
“You keep looking at me funny. Do I make you nervous?”
“No!” I took a deep breath and looked at her again. There were a lot of things I wanted to ask her, and now seemed like a good time. Of course, there was no way I was going to tell her the reason I was really staring at her, so instead I said, “I was just looking at you because I’m trying to figure out why you like my father.” I said it quietly so that there was no way he could overhear.
Susan seemed surprised by my statement. She peeked into the doorway to make sure he wasn’t lurking with an ear cocked, and then looked back to me. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”
“No. I mean, I just...” I fidgeted with the cards in my hand, wondering how to phrase my thoughts. “You seem like maybe you’re too good for him.”
Her face broke into a smile. She leaned forward conspiratorially and laid her cards flat on the table. “What?” she whispered. “Why do you say that?”
“You just... you seem so nice. There’s nothing at all wrong with you.”
“Should there be?”
“Of course not. I mean... I just don’t understand...” I shrugged, not even sure myself what I was talking about. “He seems kind of boring, and you look like you could have any guy you wanted. It just makes me wonder why you chose him.”
She was still smiling. “I didn’t really choose him. We’ve been working together for over a year now, and we’ve gotten very close.”
“You don’t find him... kind of drab?”
Susan giggled at my choice of words. “Listen. I understand what you’re getting at. At least I think I do. But I’ve had several boyfriends over the last decade, and all of them turned out to be complete shits. Pardon my French. Your father is actually a very nice man. I’m sure you know that.”
I liked her more and more every minute. “I do. I’m sorry for prying.”
She reached across the table and took my hand in hers. It caused my heart to begin racing, and I leaned forward to be closer to her. If she had any idea how attracted to her I was, she’d probably run into the other room.
“You’re not prying, sweetheart,” she whispered. “You have every right to ask me anything you want. But please don’t think I’m interested in your father for some ulterior motive. I’m not. I absolutely promise you that. I spent the last ten years being verbally and emotionally and physically abused by a small assortment of assholes. I can’t deal with that anymore. I promised myself, never again.”
“I’m so sorry.” I squeezed her hand. The thought of anyone hurting her broke my heart.
“You don’t need to be. None of it is your fault.”
“I know. I just... I feel bad for what you’ve been through.”
“Thank you. Anyway, since I’m telling you this, the last man I was with put me in the hospital. He broke two of my ribs. That was the last straw. As soon as I was able to, I got my own apartment and shut myself off from everyone. I was alone for quite awhile. I wanted to be alone. I liked it, and it was safe. Then I met your father, and, well, we just kind of got along well. We like each other. He’s very kind, and very considerate. Very gentle. I’m not frightened around him. That’s important to me. I’ve never known a man like that before.”
I nodded. She seemed so sincere.
“I got tired of being alone, Amy. And tired of being abused. I hope you understand.”
I could see tears welling in her eyes and it made me feel terrible. Still holding her hand, I suddenly stood up, prompting her to do the same. Then I pulled her into a hug, wrapping my arms around her and holding her. “I do,” I told her. “I’m so sorry.”
Susan stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, returning my embrace. She felt so wonderful in my arms and I briefly felt guilty for holding her, even though I really was only doing it because I wanted to make her feel better. Her body molded to mine perfectly, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss her. I could feel her heart beating against my chest and I wanted to cry myself. Not just because of what she’d told me, but because she was so close to what I wanted and it seemed to me she was being wasted. First by the men in her past and now by my father. It was a mean thought in relation to my father, but it’s how I felt.
After a short moment she pulled away, wiping her face. “Thank you for that.” She smiled at me, so sweetly. “You’re as kind as your father. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I do.” She sat back down and took a small sip of her scotch.
I joined her at the table, and scooped up my cards. “I hope I didn’t freak you out by hugging you. You just looked so sad...”
“You didn’t freak me out at all. I thought it was sweet.” She looked at me earnestly. “I was actually really nervous about coming here tonight and meeting you. I feel silly now. If I’d have known how nice you were, and how much I was going to like you, I would have been begging Jeffrey to let me come over sooner.”
Her words warmed my heart. “I’m glad you’re here. It gets really... boring around here.” I was going to say lonely, but thought better of it. I had a feeling I would be even more lonely if she lived there, as long as she was someone else’s.
“Maybe I could come back again soon. I could bring another nice dinner.”
I smiled. “That would be great.”
“What’s your favorite meal? Perhaps I could make it for you.”
I thought about it. “After tonight, it may very well be vegetable lasagna.”
Susan laughed at that and I felt it all the way to my core. I was actually falling in love with her. It seemed completely insane. “Maybe I’ll just have to bring another one.”
I nodded. “You could bring anything you want. Or I could make something, and give you a break.”
She grinned at me. “Maybe we could cook together sometime.”
“I’d love that.”
“I think I would too.”
We sat looking at each other for a moment and then she reached across the table and took my hand again. I loved it when she did that. “So you don’t have any problem with me seeing your father? You’re really okay with it?”
No, I wanted to say. I’d prefer it if you saw me, instead. But there was no way I could tell her that. It would probably make her loathe me, anyway. “I’m fine with it, Susan. I like you.”
She squeezed my hand and beamed. “I like you, too. I think we’re going to be very close.”
“I hope so.”
She released my hand and I was just reaching for my soda when my father stepped back into the room.
“How are you two doing?”
We both smiled and nodded. “Fine.”
Chapter 6
For several days after meeting Susan, I was in a daze. You should have a pretty good idea by now how emotional I am and how every little thing has an almost profound effect upon me. I thought about her day and night, always wondering what she was doing and what she was wearing and what she was thinking. I had hundreds of little fantasies about her, almost all of them fairly innocent but still probably unconventional enough to be considered detestable by society in general. Of course, I didn’t care much for society; I never had.
I drifted through the days, thinking about Susan and little else. I began to ask my father when she was going to be coming back again, but he was unsure and a little bit confused as to why I was so interested. I simply told him that I liked her, and left it at that. He seemed glad that I did, but it seemed to me that I spent more time thinking about her than he did, which was strange.
* * *
It was a full week after her first visit when Susan finally came back. My father informed me the night before, and I spent the whole night lying in bed thinking about her. I held my pillow to my breast and pretended it was her, kissing her softly and telling her how beautiful she was. It probably sounds sad and pathetic to you, but while I was doing it it felt wonderful. My imagination is very good and I almost felt like she was really there with me. It got soI wanted her not just physically, but with all my heart.
School dragged on slower than ever that day. I’d look at the clock every few minutes only to realize the minute hadn’t changed. It seemed crazy that I was so excited about seeing her, when she really had so little to do with me. It made me wish more than ever that I had a real girlfriend, and the sadness poured over me. I was such a mess.
When I finally got home, I took a shower. I didn’t normally do that, but I wanted to be clean and fresh, just in case she noticed. I thought about getting dressed up nice, too, but then it occurred to me that she was not only my father’s girlfriend, but that she liked men. Who was I kidding? I got dressed back into my school clothes and sat on the couch, trying to get my homework out of the way.
Soon my father got home, and he went about his little clean-up routine. I was glad this time around, because it showed me that he cared enough about her to bother, and I felt she deserved as much. At least I hoped she did. I really didn’t know her very well, despite my infatuation with her.
We sat around, him sipping his first scotch since the previous week while doing paperwork, and me reading my Celine book. It seemed now that I’d met his friend and approved of her, he didn’t feel the need to talk to me anymore. That was fine; I was used to it.
