by Claire Adams
“Dad, that’s so mean!” she cried.
“Yep, that’s me. Mean dad of the year,” I said, as I took my phone and my coffee cup out into the living room. “Buck up, buttercup! I’ll take you to lunch if you get ready quickly!”
Nina ran out of the kitchen and down the hall as soon as the words left my mouth. I shook my head as I checked the screen of my phone and found a message from Emily, “Had a great time last night! Do it again soon?”
I quickly typed, “Won’t be soon enough!” and hit Send. I waited, but when there was no immediate reply, I assumed she was busy and went to get ready to take Nina to lunch.
We headed to Nina’s favorite hamburger joint near the mall for lunch. When the server brought our burgers, Nina stuffed several fries in her mouth and then bit into the burger as if she were starving.
“You know, if you’d get up at a decent hour, you could have breakfast with me, and then you wouldn’t need to eat like a wild animal,” I commented, as she wiped catsup from her chin.
“Dad, don’t you know you’re not supposed to criticize the way your child eats,” she said, after she’d chewed and swallowed. “It’s not good for my self-esteem or my body image.”
“What in the hell?” I said, as I stared at my daughter. “Where on earth did you get that bullshit from?”
“Dad!” Nina protested. “We’re in public! Watch your language!”
“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d be lectured by my own daughter,” I chuckled, as I bit into my burger and chewed thoughtfully. Nina smirked at me as she polished off her meal, and then leaned over to grab a few of my fries off my plate.
“So, how're things with Ms. Fowler?” she asked with a knowing grin.
“Fine,” I said, trying to cut off the conversation. I had no idea where things were headed with Emily, but I knew where I wanted them to head and that talking about it with my daughter wasn’t yet in the cards.
“Good date last night?” she pressed.
“Yep, it was nice,” I nodded. “Dinner was really good.”
“Uh huh,” Nina smirked. “You go back to her place for dessert?”
“Nina Marie Gaston, that is enough from you,” I warned.
“Aw, c’mon, Dad, don’t be such a stick in the mud,” she chided. “I just want to make sure that you’re being safe, sane, and consensual about things.”
“Where the hell are you getting this stuff?” I asked, feeling profoundly uncomfortable and decidedly reassured that my daughter had listened to her mother and I over the years, and had retained the basics of the lessons we’d agreed to teach.
“You and Mom have been lecturing me on safe, sane, and consensual since I was five,” she said, as if she’d read my mind. “And I’ve been reading those books you keep stored on the high shelf in the living room.”
“Good Lord, those aren’t for teenagers,” I said, wondering which ones she’d read and hoping they’d been the milder tomes.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t dig into the hardcore stuff, I just stuck with the basics,” she said, giving me a look that told me she knew what I was thinking. “God, you really do think I’m like 10, don’t you? I’m old enough to surf the web for porn, Dad. Don’t you think I’d have some questions that need answering?”
“Yeah, but I thought your mother would have taken charge of those lessons,” I said, shifting in my seat as I wavered between wanting her to feel like she could ask me anything and not wanting to discuss either one of our sex lives over lunch.
“Unlikely,” Nina said, rolling her eyes. “She gave me the standard responsible sex talk a few months ago, and asked if I needed to get on birth control, but she doesn’t want to answer any of my more emotional questions about sex.”
“And you want me to?” I asked.
“Oh God, no! That’s gross, Dad!” she exclaimed. “I’m not talking to you about my non-existent sex life!”
“Non-existent?” I echoed.
“You heard me,” she said dryly. “No boyfriend, no sex. In fact, if you want to know the truth, I’m sick of people in high school. They’re idiots.”
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on?” I asked, feeling concerned. “I thought you were friends with Skylar and Chelsea. What happened to them?”
“They went boy crazy, that’s what happened,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They flaked on me because they have boyfriends and they want to spend all their time with them now.”
“Well, that’s kind of normal, don’t you think?” I asked.
“No, I don’t think it’s normal,” she retorted. “I think it’s being a shitty friend, is what I think it is.”
“Nina, language,” I warned.
“Said the pot calling the kettle black?” she asked, in a way that made me chuckle. “I’m just saying that it’s Christmas break and I don’t have anyone to do anything with because all of my friends are hanging out with their boyfriends and ignoring me!”
“I’m sorry, Punkin,” I said, earning an annoyed look. “I know it’s hard to be left out, but I’m sure there are things you can do this week that don’t involve the girls, right?”
“Like what?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out, I promise,” I said, wracking my brain to try and figure out what she could do while I was at work.
“Great, I’m going to spend the whole break with my father,” she lamented dramatically. “I’m such a loser!”
“Hey, I’m a great catch, I’ll have you know!” I objected.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes again. “Can we go shopping?”
“Wait, I’m offering a solution to the problem, and I’m going to get stuck with the bill for the retail therapy?” I asked. Nina laughed as I signaled the server to bring the check.
We spent the afternoon wandering up and down the mall as Nina looked for various things that she insisted she absolutely couldn’t live without. My sympathy extended from my wallet to the register in several places, and Nina left the mall smiling as several large shopping bags swung on her arms.
At home, she headed straight for her room to try everything on again and play with her hair. I picked up my phone and saw a message from Emily, “Long day running errands and talking with the insurance company. I could use some wine about now!” I laughed and dialed her number.
“Hey, how was your day?” she asked, as she picked up the phone.
“Not bad. I spent it with a grumpy 16-year-old who has been abandoned by her best friends,” I said. “But I think we found middle ground somewhere between my Visa and Mastercard.”
“Ah, retail therapy; I know it well!” Emily laughed. “That stinks about her friends, but that’s the high school thing. They haven’t yet learned to balance friends and lovers. It’s difficult.”
“Indeed,” I said, as I thought about what Nina might be able to do without friends. “Any ideas as to what she could do on her own while I’m at work? Something productive, maybe?”
“You mean, like joining a convent?” Emily laughed. I couldn’t help myself, and I laughed with her. “But seriously, there’s a ton of things she could do around here. In fact, I’m heading over to the Waltham Museum tomorrow to check out some of the collections. Maybe I could take Nina with me?”
“You wouldn’t mind?” I asked, wishing that I had the day off so I could go with them.
“I don’t think me minding will be the issue, Blake,” she laughed. “Nina might not want to spend the day with her History teacher.”
“She might if I bribe her,” I said, thinking about how I could entice my daughter to spend an entire day of vacation in a museum with one of her teachers.
“Well, I don’t mind taking her with me at all,” Emily said. “It might be a good way to inspire her to improve her History grade, and maybe it’ll be…”
I heard her trail off and wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was, that it would be a good way to introduce Nina to our possible relationship. I s
till wasn’t sure I was ready to get serious about anyone, but if I was, then Emily was definitely a woman I’d want to get serious with.
“Blake?” Emily’s voice brought me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, I thought you’d gotten disconnected,” she said.
“Nah, just thinking about how I’m going to get a teenager to do what I want her to do without her knowing it was my idea,” I said, feeling confused and a little frustrated.
“I’ll give you a hint,” she offered. “Don’t overthink it. They are experts at manipulation and can smell it from a mile away.”
“Good point,” I laughed. “All right, I’ll figure something out. I wish I could take the day off.”
“I do, too,” Emily said softly. “That would be nice.”
“We’ll see each other soon,” I murmured into the phone.
“I’d like that very much,” she replied, before disconnecting.
As I headed into the kitchen to cook dinner, I kicked myself for not inviting Emily to join us. I thought about calling her back and issuing the invitation, but that seemed a little desperate, so I let it go and focused on figuring out how to convince my daughter that a trip to the history museum would be a good thing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Emily
Knowing that Blake had to be at work by 9, I showed up early the next morning with bagels and coffee. He greeted me at the door with a smile and a kiss before leading me into the kitchen. Nina wasn’t up yet, so we took advantage of the few moments of privacy and made out like a couple of high school kids.
I laughed as he grabbed me and pulled me to him, but my laughter soon turned to soft moans as he kissed me deeply. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled me closer as I returned his kiss. He cupped my face with his strong hands as we let our mouths do what our bodies desperately wanted to do, but couldn’t.
“We have to stop,” I whispered into his lips, as I felt my legs getting weak. I wanted to strip his shirt off and taste every inch of his strong, broad chest, but I knew that heading in that direction wasn’t possible. When Blake lowered his head and slowly ran his tongue up my neck, sending shivers down my spine, I pushed him back and said, “Stop, we’re going to get caught!”
“Who cares?” he whispered, as he kissed his way back up my neck and covered my mouth with his. My blood felt like molten lava as it surged toward my most sensitive spots. I groaned softly as he cupped one of my breasts and gently squeezed my nipple.
“Blake, you need to stop,” I whispered more urgently. I was afraid that if we crossed the line that we were careening toward, it would lead someplace I wasn’t ready to go; namely, a confrontation with Nina. I placed the palms of my hands on his chest and pushed him back to a safe distance. I looked up into his warm eyes and said, “Seriously. We have to stop.”
“I know,” he nodded, looking more than a little disappointed, then sheepishly offered, “I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself.”
“I know the feeling,” I said, smiling warmly.
“Know what feeling?” Nina yawned as she entered the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She was still wearing her pajamas and looked much younger than her 16 years.
“The feeling of having to get up and go to work when you’d rather spend the day perusing a museum,” Blake interjected.
“Uh-huh, are these fresh bagels?” she asked, as she opened the bag on the counter and peered inside.
“Indeed they are,” I said, as I pulled out several containers of cream cheese and set them on the counter. “And there’s coffee or hot chocolate here, if you want it.”
“Ooooh, I haven’t had hot chocolate in a long time!” Nina exclaimed, as she claimed the cup with her name on it and grabbed two bagels from the bag. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m starving.”
“There’s plenty there; eat up,” I encouraged, as I passed the bag to Blake with a smile. He grinned as he took it and pulled two bagels from it.
We sat at the table eating in companionable silence until Blake looked up at the clock and said, “Shit, I gotta go, or I’m going to be late!”
He stuffed the last bite of his bagel in his mouth and gulped down the remainder of coffee in his cup before he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.
“You girls have fun today, okay?” he said, looking anxiously in Nina’s direction.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, waving him off. “I’ll go learn something and have a great time. I promise.”
“Okay, good,” he said with obvious relief before turning toward me and adding, “Thanks for taking her with you, Emily. I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?”
“Oh, definitely,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’ll be around.”
Once Blake had left, I looked at Nina and said, “I’m not sure what your dad told you, but if you decide you don’t want to go with me to the Waltham Museum, I will understand.”
“He told me that I had no choice and that if you told me I did, I was supposed to go anyway,” she said in a bored tone that I recognized as pure defensiveness. She sighed, “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”
“Of course you do,” I said. “But I think it’ll be kind of interesting, so there’s that.”
“Fine, I’ll go get ready,” she sighed again.
I tidied up the kitchen while I waited for Nina to get ready. Although I’d cooked breakfast for Blake and Nina on the morning after Christmas, I hadn’t really examined the room in any meaningful way. Now I looked at it with fresh eyes and saw a kitchen that was warm and inviting. Blake had painted the walls a warm shade of red, and there were plants situated on floating shelves around the windows, giving the room a colorful touch. He’d obviously spent time thinking about how to make this house feel like a home, and it showed.
When Nina was finally ready, we headed out to the car and drove over to the Waltham Museum, where Burt Maddox was waiting to show us around. Burt and I had become friends when I’d first taken the job at Waltham High School, and now he called me when there was a new exhibit, or when they added something to one of the collections.
Today’s visit was the result of an overhaul of the manufacturing displays. The museum had been working on upgrading the tours and modernizing and restoring some of the displays. Burt had called me the week before to let me know that the exhibits would be open for viewing this week, and I was excited to see the work the museum curators and restoration experts had done.
“Burt! How are you?” I called, as Nina and I entered the museum lobby.
“Well, well, well, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes, Emily!” Burt laughed as he came out from behind the front desk. He was well into his 70s, but he didn’t look much older than 60. His gray hair was slicked back away from his clean-shaven face and, as usual, he wore a button-down dress shirt with a sweater vest and a matching tie.
“You’re looking snappy, Burt,” I said, as I appraised his outfit.
“Got a new vest from the grandkids for Christmas, and a matching tie from my new girlfriend,” he grinned.
“How is Holly?” I asked. Burt’s wife had died young and left him to raise their two children alone. He did so, and then once they were out of the house, he’d gone out and started dating. Holly had come along around the time Burt had decided to give up, and they’d been together for almost 20 years. Neither one had wanted to get married, so they decided to live in sin and scandalized the old-timers they hung out with. Holly had been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease the year before, and they were struggling to adjust to the constantly shifting landscape that it had created.
“She’s doing as well as can be expected, but her memory is slipping away a little more every day,” he said, without a trace of sadness. “We enjoy the good days and endure the not so good ones. It’s all you can ask for! Now, who is this young lady you’ve brought with you?”
“Burt Maddox, I’d like you to meet Nina Gaston,” I said, as I stepped back. “Nina, this is Burt.”
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��Nina Gaston, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Burt said, holding out his hand. “I think I know your father, Blake.”
“Yes, that’s my father,” Nina nodded, as she took his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Maddox.”
“Oh, please call me Burt, dear,” he said, laughing softly. “Mr. Maddox was my father, and he was one ornery son of a gun!”
Nina and I laughed as Burt turned and motioned for us to follow him. We walked down the wood-paneled corridor toward a large door at the end of the hall. Burt’s shiny black dress shoes clicked on the polished wood floor in a rhythm that was disciplined and precise, and I smiled as I thought about how he’d described his time in the Army and how it had been a cornerstone of his philosophy of life.
“Now, I’m going to show you something no one else has seen yet,” he said with a conspiratorial grin, before pushing open the heavy oak doors to reveal a room that was filled with light and air. I inhaled sharply as I looked around and realized that this was the new manufacturing wing of the museum.
“Oh, Burt, it’s absolutely amazing!” I whispered, as I turned around, taking the whole room in. “You’ve outdone yourselves.”
“They really put a lot of work into it,” he nodded, as he stepped over to a display case full of watches. “They shined it all up and built new cases for these things.”
“What did it look like before?” Nina asked, as she surveyed the room.
“It was dark and dingy, and it was hard to see what was in the collection,” Burt said, as he reached down and pulled open a drawer in the display case. He shuffled a few papers around and then pulled out what looked like photographs and held them out for Nina to see. “This is what it looked like a few years ago.”
“Wow, that looks really old and run-down!” she exclaimed, as she shuffled through the pictures. “This is definitely an improvement.”
A bell rang somewhere in the distance, and Burt excused himself to go answer it. I walked over to the start of the exhibit and began slowly examining the pictures and artifacts that represented the very beginning of the manufacturing industry in Waltham. Nina set the pictures down and joined me, but kept a safe distance as she scanned the pieces.