Agreeing with My Wife

As I turned around, I saw the two women. My wife ruefully smiling at me. My daughter looked a lot more comfortable in flannel pajama bottoms and a cotton t-shirt. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and her makeup was washed off her face. I saw my daughter gulp almost like she was ready to burst into tears again. So I motioned to the makeshift serving area, "I got the pizza you asked for, also some bread sticks, marinara sauce and I didn't know what else you would want to drink, so I poured glasses of water. Also, I ordered 3 marinara sauces since I like to double dip my sauce so figured it'd be safer to have individual ones rather than share one."

Rachel rushed up to me and hugged me. I looked at my wife in complete disbelief, while absentmindedly wrapping a hand around her. I subtly shrugged my shoulders so as to not make too big of a movement lest I startle her. But my wife just smiled back at me.

"Thanks," Rachel muttered beneath me. "I know you didn't have to do any of this, but it means a lot to me. That you'd care enough to...to do any of this."

"Of course. I just want you to know you aren't alone. Or are if that's what you want. I don't know what you want, really, so let us know and we will try to accommodate you." I rubbed her back gently. She rubbed her face in my shirt, seemingly to dry her eyes on me. That's when I heard her tummy rumble. She quickly released me and made her way to the pizza and water.

My wife and I followed her back into the living room. Rachel took the love seat once again and Alice and I sat together on the couch. We made no conversation as Rachel was completely invested in the food in front of her. My wife and I were in no rush to coax her to open up. She finished her plate and looked at the empty plate and then at our plates. Her head turned towards the kitchen as if she could see through the walls.

"There's a couple more slices of pizza and maybe a bread stick in the kitchen still," I mentioned gauging that was what she was trying to discern. Seems I was right because she beamed, one of the first times I actually saw her smile today, as she raced to the kitchen for more food.

Plopping back down with the remainder of the food, she noticed her empty water glass, "Shit," she moans as she is about to get back up to refill her glass.

"Let me," I say as I get up and reach my hand out for her glass. "I need a refill as well." I drained the remaining half glass I had while I waited for her cup to be offered to me.

"Well, if you really need a refill," she said with a light giggle in her voice. I headed back to the kitchen for our refills.

"This was really good," my wife is saying as I come back with the waters.

With her mouth full, Rachel mumbles, "Yeah. So good." She wipes her mouth after swallowing. "I can still hear my mom complain when I asked for this. 'Pizzas shouldn't have pineapples or spinach on them. I don't know how you got this taste, but it's definitely not from me.' But she would always let me have one. We'd always just order two small pizzas, though, so she could have what she wanted."

Mentioning her mom, she started looking around the house. I imagine every nook and cranny was a memory of what she had just lost. "I miss her so much. There was so much I wanted to show her. So much I wanted to do with her. So much I still wanted to know."

She took a deep breath and pulled out the card I had gotten her from behind her, presumably, tucked in the elastic band of her pajama bottoms. "I read the letter that you put inside the card. As well as the bank statement." She waited to see if I said anything, but I had no idea what she wanted from me so I stayed quiet letting her guide the conversation.

"I'm not sure I should take this money." I was about to object, but she held up a finger indicating she wasn't done. "It's just a lot of money. I'm not sure I am comfortable accepting such a generous amount. I then read the letter." My heart sank. She was going to rip into me before I realized one thing. She had read it before the pizza, wouldn't she have done it and told me to get out before now?

"I read the letter. I understand why mom didn't mention you to me. I wish she were here so I could talk to her about you. Maybe if I were older and she hadn't...she were still here, I would have been able to get her to open up. I am torn up about this. On the one hand, I really don't have anyone else to turn to. But on the other, do I really want the one person my mom wanted nothing to do with to be that person? What would you do?"

I had been asking myself a similar question ever since I agreed with my wife to come up here. Why would Rachel ever trust me? What could I offer that would help repair a relationship neither of us knew about? I took several deep breaths and just opened up the with the truth. One thing about A.A., it had conditioned me to make myself vulnerable.

"I don't know, Rachel. I have been asking myself what could I do to help you or if you even need my help. What could I offer to ease your...hardship. I just don't know. Because, I have no idea who you are aside from my daughter. So I'll tell you the one thing I have been able to figure out. What ever you need, just ask and I will do my damnedest to fulfill. Anything. If you never want to see me again. If you need a place to stay. If you just want a friend for advice. What I am to you, what I can offer you, it's all up to you."

My wife let out a small gasp of surprise. I hadn't even told my wife any of this. I hadn't really had time. I had just realized the answer sitting here in this house watching the people around me. I noticed the usual platitudes be passed around. I saw Rachel walking around with a glassy look taking in everything and nothing at the same time. I could see the hurt, the loss, the confusion, the worry, the agony all etched on her face throughout the day. And I had silently vowed to myself I would do anything I could to help ease her pain. Even if that meant never seeing her again.

She sat there quietly playing with the hem of her shirt. My wife slipped her hand into mine and gripped it tightly. I looked over at her and she just gave me a brief nod and a grin. In my periphery, I sensed a change. I looked over, and my daughter was staring intently at my wife and I. Had watched our little display of affection.

She cleared her throat, "The note you wrote. You were really like that?" I nodded my head. "I just can't fathom that. You two look so...I don't know...in love? In tune with each other? Maybe safe? I was watching you throughout the day, from time to time, and you just sat with each other never moving, but it was more than that. The little grazes of your fingers, or the looks you gave. The person I see has no resemblance of the one in the letter."

"I've changed. A lot. Took me many years to do so. And then, I met Alice. I have a lot to lose—not saying I didn't have a lot before—if I screw up again. I realized, too late with you and your mom, what I had." I squeezed my wife's hand. "I don't want to screw up anything this time."

She nodded her head while I was talking. Absorbing what I said. "First, I think, I don't want to be your daughter or you my father. I know I don't really have a say in the matter. I mean I can't change the fact that we share DNA, but with no contact for almost 19 years I have grown up without a father. I don't think I need one now." I just nodded. I had no ground to stand on how she wanted to define our relationship, if she wanted one.

"Which makes the second part, damn confusing to me. I don't know what relationship makes sense, then. I know I want one. Or maybe I realize I need one. Going through the funeral plans, getting the casket, arranging the procession. It was so daunting. I mean it helped that my mom had written down her last wishes, but I had no support. Not from anyone. And I know I don't know what to do with everything after...this." She stopped to take a few breaths to ebb the flow of tears threatening to release once again.

"I mean, what am I supposed to do with the house now? All the stuff left here? Am I supposed to just live here in a museum of my mom's life? What about school? My life? Everything just seems so...impossible...right now. So I know I need someone there for me to help me figure this all out." She snickered. "In high school, I suppose you'd be my guidance counselor. But that seems rather impersonal. I gather from my friends that uncles would kind of fit that bill, but I don't know if I want to call you that, either."

"Can I make a suggestion?" Rachel just looked at me with eagerness. "Just call me Mark. No need to define what I am to you. Especially right now. If you want a relationship with me, we will figure out what it is with time."

"So when I introduce you to people? I just say you're Mark?" She started having a pseudo conversation with an imaginary person turning her head to indicate the other person.

"It could be. Like I said, no need to have easily defined relationships. Who cares what anyone else thinks. What makes you comfortable?" Rachel sat quietly in the love seat; gears churning behind her eyes; digesting what I said.

Eventually, she broke the silence. "I have some things to do. A whole list, really, of shit to do. Still. Part of me just wants someone, anyone, to just do it. I shouldn't have to do all of this. I just want to be with my friends. Out enjoying life." She looked over at me. "You know I had to drop out of school. College, that is. Mom would've killed me if I dropped out of high school. Mom got sick and needed help. More help that she could afford and more help than I could give her while being a student. All my friends are out living their lives at college and here I am dealing with this shit. Fuck, that makes me sound like a selfish bitch. I love my mom. Loved. Love? Loved. I really do, but this all just...sucks."

"I...we...know you do love your mom. It's not fair what you have to go through, sure. But, if you let us, maybe we can help you out. I don't think we can just do what needs to be done, but I think we can at least take some of the strain off you. If that'd help," my wife has stayed absolutely silent through this entire exchange letting me lead the way on what we do for my daughter. Actually, my not-daughter, according to Rachel.

She rolled back up to a sitting position. Her elbows on her thighs with her chin resting in both of her hands, "Really? I mean that'd be a big weight off my shoulders. To have someone just to go through this all with." She abruptly got up and ran off to parts unknown to me.

I looked over at my wife with arched eyebrows, "You're offly quiet. Is everything okay?"

She nodded her head, "This is your decision. Whatever it is. I am behind you completely."

"Yeah, but I mean this effects you as well. I'd like you to weigh in."

She bumped my shoulder with hers, "I already have. If I have concerns, I'll let you know. When it's appropriate."

"Um, well...," Rachel was standing with a piece of paper in her hands looking at where she should go. "I have my list of things that need to be done." I noticed she was glancing more at the small space between me and the armrest of the couch. So I scooted over to make room for her. She grinned and, not exactly skipped but kinda, skipped to the couch and sat down next to me. She smoothed out the very crumpled sheet of paper.

"I took out a lot of frustrations on this piece of paper, but I can't throw it away or I'd probably be lost." Many of the items were crossed out like find a funeral home and pick out a casket. But there were many other items to cross out. Things to do with the IRS filing, visit the attorney, transfer titles and deeds, etc. It was a long list and very detailed. No wonder she was completely stressed.

"Yeah. It's going to be difficult, but luckily you have us." I tried to cheer her up. "Besides this, what are your thoughts on after...everything?"

"Well, I think eventually, I want to go back to school. I don't know if I want to live here, though. I don't think I really want to be alone. Staying here, after she passed, has been super depressing. Should I keep the house? Should I sell it?" She looked up at me expectantly.

"I think that is going to be a decision you are ultimately going to have to make. But I think you will be able to. What would your mom want you to do, do you think? If your dream is to go off to college, would she want you to keep a house you aren't using? Paying property taxes and maintenance on top of tuition? Or would she want you to be able to sell it and use that money for your future? We have to visit her lawyer concerning her will, maybe that is listed in it. You know your mother better than I did. I think you'd be able to answer most of what she would want for you pretty easily."

"Oh, okay. That makes sense. So I have an appointment tomorrow with her attorney to go over her will. So you think just wait until then to make any decisions?"

"I think you put off any decision until at least a good night's sleep. Maybe longer. Some of these issues you can't deal with yet anyway. Others can be dealt with in time."

"So...there is one favor...and it's going to sound weird because we just met, but would you stay here with me? I don't want to be alone in the house."

I glanced at my wife. Even without speaking, I could see this was not in my wife's plans. At all. So I turned back to Rachel, "Actually, why don't you come with us to the hotel. We can get you a room of your own and maybe just being out of the house will ease some of your anxieties."

"Does it have to be my own room?"

My wife, for the first time, spoke up, "No, it doesn't. I just think Mark didn't want to assume you'd want to stay with us." She glanced over at me, "Do you think we may be able to change rooms? I mean we haven't even used the one we have."

"It'll be worth at least asking about. They might all be booked, but the worst they could tell us is no."

My wife went with Rachel to pack up an overnight bag and some toiletries. I made myself useful by storing any food in the refrigerator. We quietly drove to the hotel. I noticed Rachel's head dipping. Looks like she will be headed straight to bed when we get in. Poor kid. The stress and adrenaline of the past few days have got to be catching up with her, I thought in that brief glance in my rearview mirror.

We finally pulled into the parking lot. I got out and headed to the front desk while Alice helped Rachel out of the truck. The front clerk was just finishing up with another quest being checked in. The couple walked off with a young man leading the way with their luggage.

"How can I help you?," the clerk, Gary, called to me.

"Hi. I am in 315, but I was hoping we could find a different room. One with 2 beds instead of a sleeper sofa."

"Oh. Is there anything wrong with the one you have?"

At this point, I saw my wife leading the young woman staying with us into the foyer. My wife was rolling the bag behind with an arm around Rachel while Rachel had her head resting on Alice's shoulder. It wouldn't be long before Rachel fell asleep, would she even make it to the room? "No. Nothing's wrong. It's just a situation I wasn't expecting came up and having 2 beds would bet more convenient."

"Ah. Okay. Let me check real quick, Mr....?"

"Andrews."

"Okay. Here's your information. Oh, you just checked in today."

"Yeah. We haven't even been in the room except to drop off our luggage."

"Okay. Easy enough. I have a room conveniently just down the hall from you, is that all right?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. He went about typing on his computer. Reaching underneath the counter he pulled out two keycards and handed them to me, saying "Will there be anything else I can help you with?" He kept his hand out after I had taken the cards.

"I was curious if you could possibly send someone up with me to retrieve my bags from the old room. It would make it easier to just give him the key to return to you rather than having to go up, get the bags, go to the new room and then back down, only to go back up for the night."

"Oh," he pulled his hand back and grabbed a radio. "Robbie, we need another guest escorted to their room when you get a moment." I didn't hear the rest of the conversation since Gary was wearing an earpiece.

"He'll be down in a few minutes. Unfortunately, we are a bit short-staffed at the moment."

"Sure. I understand. I'll just send the women upstairs and I'll wait for Robbie." I handed the young clerk a $20 bill for the help and walked off to Alice and Rachel. I gave Alice the keys and told them I'd be up shortly.

About 5 minutes later, Robbie came up to me. "No luggage?" He was certainly confused to help a large man to his room, especially with no luggage.

I smiled at him, "No. I need to retrieve my bags from my old room to move it to my new one. I just wanted someone to run the old keys back down, is all."

"Ah. No problem. What room are your bags in?"

"315."

"Okay." He hit the button for the third floor and we rode up in silence. Once we reached the room, I unlocked the door and quickly found the bags and picked them up. I handed Robbie the old keycards and a $20 bill.

"Thanks."

"Don't want any help to your new room?," Robbie asked, slipping both the cards and the cash into his pocket.

Chuckling, "Nah. I think I can manage. Have a good evening."

"You, too. Hope you enjoy your stay."

I found the hotel room easily. If you've been in one hotel, you've been in them all for the most part. When I got to the door, I realized I had given Alice both cards. I rapped on the door, lightly. Suspecting Rachel was more than likely asleep, I didn't want rouse her if she was indeed in bed already. I glanced at my watch and saw it wasn't even 7 pm. If she is asleep, I guess we are all having an early night tonight, I stifled a yawn. Maybe that's a good thing. The drive up must have been more tiring than I realized.

The door swung open and there stood my gorgeous wife in what appeared to be the hotel's bathrobe and nary anything else. I gaped at the audacity she had. My daughter, a complete stranger, was staying with us. In the same room as us. And she was going to seduce me? I was about to query her, but she put her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.

So I whispered, forcefully, "Are you crazy? Why are you wearing THAT? All while a young woman, a virtual stranger, is staying in the room with us?"

"Shh. She's completely knocked out cold. Means we can have some quality alone time. Maybe not as quality as I would like, but you take what you can get." She arched her eyebrows suggestively.

"What if she wakes up and sees us having sex in the bed next to her? She just lost her mother for Christsakes!"

She put her hand on my penis and began lightly stroking it through my pants. "It would be hot to have her catch us, but she's got to understand. She's our guest. She invited herself to stay with us. It's not my fault I can't get enough of my husband, right?"

Her stroking was getting my dick to harden, but I wasn't quite to full mast, yet. But it wouldn't take long. "You can't be serious, right? That's my daughter!"

She looked back at the sleeping form, but her hand wrapped, as much as it could with my pants in the way, around my penis. "Fine." And pulled me into the en suite bathroom. As we entered, I closed the door behind us as quietly as I could while anticipating taking my wife.

Her hand left my growing bulge to unbuckle my belt and to undo the button of my pants. She then tugged my shirt from its confines and started to unbutton my shirt. I was glad I had removed my tie after the reception. Not only do I hate those inverted nooses, but now there is one less thing to worry about removing for this little bathroom tryst.