Pearl growled at me, “Not funny.” I thought it very amusing.
For three more days the hostility between Charlotte and the twins was deep enough to drown any family relationship. Pearl and Charlotte weren’t doing much better, I was the only one my daughter would interact with without snapping and snarling like a wounded animal. I knew what was bothering her, but wasn’t sure how to set things right again. I thought about putting the damn fuck toy back in her room, but even that might not work, she would still think her brothers had it and would continue to hate them. The whole crisis came to a head on Saturday afternoon when my wife warned me, “Get your daughter out of the house and talk her down. I’m ready to beat her into a body cast!”
“Charlotte, let’s get out of here, I’ll buy you an ice cream.” She and I had been using ice-cream parlors as a setting for many father/daughter talks. Many times, we enjoyed cones at Baskin-Robbins without brothers or her mother; clearing up problems, or just bonding.
She had a double-dip cup in front of her and took the first taste when I asked as if I didn’t know, “What’s going on sweetie, why are you so edgy these last few days?”
She blushed red, averted her eyes while trying to come up with a plausible answer, “I don’t know dad, the boys are just being brats.”
“Is your mom being a brat too?”
She looked up at me, exasperated, “Daddy, she’s always taking their side, she thinks I hate them all the time.”
“Don’t you?”
I had to smile when she grumbled, “Not all the time, no, but this week for sure.”
It was time to let her know I knew her secret, that her sex toy was missing, that she shouldn’t be blaming the boys. I pulled a small box out of my jacket pocket and put it on the table, “Here, maybe this will help you calm down.”
She lit up with a smile, she liked getting unexpected gifts, “You got me something?” The smile disappeared seconds later, just after she opened the box. She was looking at her dildo lying on a bed of cotton. Charlotte’s face scorched red, her eyes went as wide as saucers, she froze in place, she wasn’t breathing. Slowly she lifted her stunned eyes to mine, dropped the box then scrambled from the booth and out the door. I wasn’t surprised by her reaction, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be, ‘Oh thanks, I missed this’.
She wasn’t in the car when I got in, my daughter had fled to parts unknown so I pulled onto the street and kept an eye out for her as I cruised slowly. She made it almost two city blocks before I found her; I pulled up next to her, “Charlotte, get in, you can’t run away from this.”
“I’ll never get in a car with you again, get away!” She yelled loud enough that some woman walking near scoured me with an evil eye, she saw a middle-aged man harassing a young girl on the street so she punched 911 into her phone, she was going to report me. I pulled away to the next corner then got out of the car and waited for Charlotte. When she got close, I stopped her, “You have to get in the car before the cops show up.”
“I hope they do!”
I didn’t get mad like her mother does, “Really? You want me to tell them why you’re mad?” I pulled the box out of my pocket again, “This might not look good for me at first, but after a few minutes of good cop/bad cop routine they would know whose this is; get in Charlotte, I’m not going to beat you or embarrass you anymore.”
With an attitude a mile wide and twice as deep, my daughter pulled open her door then slammed it closed. I got into the car then drove quickly from the woman, who was coming closer with the phone stuck to her ear. As we left, I was hoping she didn’t get my license for the police.
The house wouldn’t be a good place to take her so I headed across town to a city park, we could sit by Loon Lake and talk out the mess her dildo had made. As I drove, my daughter picked up the box then cautiously peeked inside again, she bloomed red once more then put a fingertip on it, like she was saying hello to an old friend. She looked up at me, “Did you take this from my room?”
“It was on the floor when I came in to tuck you in.”
“Did you show it to mom?”
“No sweetheart, so far it’s just me who knows you have that.”
She took a deep breath, sighed it out as relief and resignation combined, “Thanks for not telling her.” Charlotte leaned on the window, staring at nothing, saying nothing, for the rest of the drive to the park.
We sat on a bench facing the lake, watching ducks paddle past, “I guess I don’t need to start a conversation about the facts of life, do I?”
“No, I think between mom and other places I know enough.”
“Other places? Like boys?”
Charlotte grinned cheerlessly, she was becoming less agitated, “No daddy, no boys. Just my friends and movies and stuff.”
I was relieved to hear she hadn’t taken the final step, but I had a hundred questions crowding on my tongue waiting to be asked. I sensed had to be slow, delicate, with her, “How long have you had that, where did you get it?”
“A couple of months ago me and Mallory went online and bought it, she got one too, only it’s black.” She grinned with feeling for the first time, “I had to put in my birthday so I made one up like I was nineteen. After that, I was the first to check the mail every day until it came.”
“Online? I don’t normally see ads for sex toys online, where were you looking, on porn sites?” Once again, she colored from cheeks down her neck, she didn’t need to answer the question. My daughter looked at porn. Sitting beside her, I checked the legs extended from her skirt and felt a tension tighten my balls. I recalled the image of her nude on the bed and the tension extended to my prick. I had to change the subject, “Look girl, your secret is safe, I won’t tell your mom. I know full well if she knew you have that, there would be hours of lectures neither of us would enjoy. You can keep your toy and do whatever you do with it, my lips are sealed.”
She buoyed as if a huge weight was lifted from her, but only mumbled quietly, “Promise?”
“Pinky Promise.”
“Thanks dad.” She caught my eyes with hers for a moment while she thought; her secret was out and since I didn’t throw a fit or condemn her, she felt safe enough to ask, “I don’t do anything with boys, but I get curious, I have questions about them and how they think about girls. If I asked you some questions, would you answer them?”
“Right now?”
“No, later, right now I need to go home and be nice to mom.”
“And your brothers.”
She gave me a fully relaxed grin, “Maybe, but they’re still loathsome cretins.”
There was a cop car in front of the house, Pearl was standing on the lawn talking to an officer; the woman had seen my license. Charlotte and I went to the cop and in a few minutes explained the situation; satisfied I wasn’t some kind of sexual predator or abusing my family, she left. As the cruiser pulled away Pearl asked, “What the hell was that all about?”
Charlotte put a hand on her mother’s arm, “I was fighting with daddy on the street and some woman called it in.”
“Are you two still fighting?”
“No mom, I’m done fighting with everybody, let’s go in the house.” Pearl shot me a look of gratitude that her daughter was again part of the family.