Neighborhood Dad Ch. 07

To those who have enjoyed the series, I apologize for the lengthy delay.

I never intended for there to be any sex in chapter six. But there were several negative reviews of my earlier chapters, and I felt pressured into writing a sex scene. I tried to make the sex feel like a natural progression, but it never felt 100% authentic to me. Maybe 90-95% percent authentic. I believe the characters would have made out, possibly grope for a while, but full intercourse seemed too soon.

I was so disgusted at writing myself into a corner that I just didn't feel like moving on. I considered deleting chapter six and resubmitting a new version until I saw how well received it was.

You guys appreciated the chapter and gave it the highest average score of anything I've submitted. I have had more than 24,000 views, more than 400 votes (with an average of 4.74) and had 15 nice comments and just one bad comment, which is quite a ratio in a public forum. Thank you for your kind words, and I hope this chapter feels authentic.

Lil Henry

*****

After a minute I knew I'd better slide off. I was so worn out and so satisfied on a physical and emotional level that I was afraid I might doze off right on top of her.

Leave it to the real world to ruin a perfectly good warm fuzzy.

As soon as I pulled out, Randi was reaching to the nightstand for a couple of tissues. She tried to wipe up our escaping fluids, but then went back for more tissues.

"We made quite a mess," she said, her face reddening.

"Sorry," I said reflexively. Then she looked at me questioning, and I could sense some doubt and possibly some hurt in the expression.

"Not about this, I mean," I said, waving my hand in a circle around the bed, hoping she'd understand. "Just the mess part of it."

"Why couldn't your bedroom have an adjoining bathroom?" she asked, turning and sitting up so that her back was to me.

"That's because it's not a bedroom, it's a dining room."

"Really?" she replied as she stood and moved toward her clothing at the foot of the bed.

My eyes took in the sight as I answered. "Yeah, Paige is in my old room. The flat screen is where she used to have her bed."

"Never had sex in a dining room before," she said, stepping into her black panties and shimmying them up her hips. Her lips were still puffy from our love-making, and a familiar twitch hit downstairs. Already? Shouldn't he need a long break?

She slid her shirt back on, but without the bra so that her nipples shown through the fabric.

My body was reacting way too strongly, so I tried to turn back to the conversation.

"Yeah, well neither have I."

"Wait, what?" she asked. "Hold on, this is your room. You've never had sex here? Come on, you're joking."

"No, I'm not. Never had sex in this room before. Never on this mattress either."

She picked up my underwear from the floor and tossed the pair on the bed as she moved up to sit down and lean back against the headboard.

"How is that possible? I mean, you were married," she said, her eyes glancing over at Beth's photo on the drawer chest. "And even after, you've gotta be, like, the hottest 30-something bachelor in town. You must've 'tapped that ass' with some single moms," she said, making a crude pumping motion with her fist.

I snickered. "Really? 'Tapped that ass?'"

We both laughed at the ridiculous turn of phrase. Then as she patiently waited for a response, I reached out, picked up my underwear and slid it on before saying, "Beth and I slept together upstairs. We only converted this into a bedroom right at the very end of her illness. We had a hospital bed and a twin bed crammed in here.

"After Beth passed away, I couldn't bear to sleep upstairs again - the place where we'd shared so many happy times. And also the place where we shared so many tears when more bad news came from her doctor. I couldn't imagine sleeping on the same mattress. So I moved the furniture down here and got new bedding. I'm in the furniture business - I got it cheap."

I don't know why I said that last part. I didn't want to seem uppity about buying a new mattress and foundation, but what is lavish about that?

And what was up with me thinking about how I worded that stupid sentence when I'd just revealed so much personal information in one breath?

I went to my pants and put them on, looking around for my shirt.

"And in three years, you've never invited a woman back here?" she asked, her voice softer, more considerate now.

"With Paige here? I couldn't hurt her like that, seeing some new woman in her mother's house."

"But surely you've dated at least, right? You've followed some chica back to her place?"

I smiled softly. "You're the only person I've slept with since Beth."

I knew that was a potent thing to say. I watched for her eyes to open wider, maybe a steep intake of breath as she would feel overwhelmed by my admission. Being the first in more than three years carried with it a certain gravity, like taking someone's virginity.

Instead, she surprised me as usual by smiling sheepishly.

"And you're the only person I've slept with since we moved here."

It was something I could have guessed, considering her previous comments about work, school and studying. But it still felt nice to hear her say it.

I found my shirt and pulled it on. As my head passed through the neck hole, I found she had slid off the bed and was standing in front of me. She placed a hand on one cheek and kissed me gently.

My penis thought it was time for round two, but I knew better. We needed to get back to the birthday party (my daughter's birthday party) before someone got suspicious. I saw it in her eyes, too.

"I am going to hit the bathroom and get cleaned up," she said, giving me a final peck on the lips. "You might want to crack a window. It smells like sex in here."

I stayed in the bedroom for several minutes, letting it air out.

With the blood returning from my crotch to my brain, lots of thoughts and questions arose.

Most of them swirling around the same couple of points: What was I doing messing around with a kid? And now that I had, what was going to happen next?

Like the night in the hot tub when we kissed, I kept thinking, "What does this mean?" We kissed, and I didn't really understand what it meant, and now it's gone much, much further.

It's not like I could present her with my class ring or my letterman's jacket and ask her to go steady. And it's not like we could pretend it never happened - like I'd ever forget how glorious it felt to be in her arms naked.

What was Randi thinking? What was she feeling? We talked for several minutes after the deed, and yet we never had "the talk" about us.

What if Paige found out? How hurt would she be that I'd forsaken Beth for someone new? Would she be angry that this someone was a friend and a high school senior?

Hell, if I can't understand myself what is going on with Randi and me, then how can I explain it to Paige?

The strangest thing about this very strange night was that I really wished I could talk about all this with my best friend. But Beth was always my best friend, and she was gone. No one else had filled that role since then.

So many questions, but in the meantime, there was a house full of kids having a party unchaperoned. I needed to get back.

I gave myself a once-over and thought I looked quite normal on the outside (certainly not on the inside). I opened the door slowly and looked out across the house. I didn't see Paige and moved out into the midst to track her down.

Over by the back door I saw Randi chatting with Lori as if everything were perfectly the same as usual. When she saw me watching her, Randi tilted her head toward the yard.

Rather than cross the room and risk getting too close to Randi, I slid over to a window. Sitting in the rocking chairs outside were Paige and Mr. Sour Cream & Onion.

The boy was turned toward Paige, so I couldn't see his face, but I could see hers. I couldn't recall the last time I saw her smile so warmly.

Was Randi right? Was my extended grieving period having an effect on my daughter? Was she neglecting her own happiness to care for me?

Paige was a great student, a great teammate and a great daughter. She was mature and responsible, and maybe it was time I eased up the tight grip and let her live a little.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" asked a soft, feminine voice, as an arm slid around my waist.

Jesus, what was Randi thinking with the public display of affection in the middle of the party?

I jolted and turned to find Lori grinning up at me.

"Seems like just the other day she was picking her nose and eating boogers," she said dreamily. "Or maybe that was just the other day? She's kind of a tomboy."

I smiled and she replied, "There you go. It's okay, Pops. We all gotta grow up sometime."

"So you thought you better come console your ole coach?"

"Randi thought I should check on you," she said, leaning in to give me a hug. Then she pulled back and added, "Well actually, she said, 'Henry looks so sad. Maybe you should talk to him.' She called you Henry?"

"Well, I mean, you guys all call me Coach. But she doesn't play ball, so why would she call me that?" And then before Lori could have time to wonder why Randi didn't call me Mr. D, I changed the subject.

"So I hear Mr. Sour Cr— the boy out there is a decent kid?"

"Ricky? Yeah, he's shy and a little nerdy, but he's nice, and I think those two have been crushing on each other since junior year."

"She's gonna want to go on a date, isn't she?"

"Well, Coach, she is 18 now."

"Good point. But only if she doesn't neglect homework or basketball practice."

Lori reached up to hug my neck. "That's awesome! You mind if I go tell her now?"

"Go ahead, it's her birthday after all."

The rest of the night was so ordinary. The voices of teen-agers carrying throughout the house. Reaching in the fridge for a drink and finding nothing there - kids love to take sodas out of a fridge, but they never put one back.

It all seemed so typical, and yet inside so much had happened. I had sex with a high school student. My daughter was acquiring her first boyfriend right in front of my eyes. If I were a drinking man, I might have tossed back a few that night.

I didn't talk to Randi again that evening. When I eventually said it was time for the party to end, everyone left except for Randi, Lori and Autumn who went upstairs to grill Paige with questions about Mr. Sour - about Ricky.