Page 28 of House on Fire

Chapter 27

  Safely back in the truck, I gave him a big hug. “Thank you, Dad.”

  “I want to make sure you understand. I’m not giving you my permission or encouragement to go out and get laid. I consider these for educational purposes only. On the other hand, I’m not stupid enough to think you’d ever seek my permission, so if you need to, you sure as hell better use one.”

  “Okay, fair enough, Dad.”

  “Why are they one-time use? Couldn’t you just wash them?”

  “Not safe. It only takes one… DNA cell to fertilize an egg.”

  “But even for, uh, educational purposes?”

  “Yes, even for that. I don’t want you to get in any bad habits. There’s a Drugco in Marquette. In a week, a month, whatever, we’ll drive up and I’ll wait outside if you want. The other option is to go to the one at home and blow your friends’ minds.”

  I laughed at the thought of showing Spaz my new stash.

  We rode in silence for a few minutes.

  “Dad? You said you wish someone had told you about this stuff. How did you learn? I mean when you were my age?”

  “I didn’t. My family never talked about relationships or how to grow up or anything like that. That’s why I’ve always tried to let you kids know how I feel about things, and the real facts as you seem ready for them.” He smiled. “My family always said ‘don’t do anything, and don’t even ask.’ All I knew is what I heard on the schoolyard, and most of that was wrong.”

  “When did you get your first kiss?”

  “I was fifteen.”

  “What was her name?”

  He watched the road for a minute.

  “A gentleman doesn’t tell.”

  “How old were you when you first... I mean, when you lost...”

  He sighed. “Older than you. Why do you want to know? Just curious, or do you have some plans?”

  I laughed. “No way. I’ve never even kissed a girl.” That was a lie, and I knew that he’d caught it, but he just smiled.

  “I’ll tell you that I waited until I found someone I was deeply in love with. Like I said, physical intimacy is something that’s best when it happens in a loving relationship.”

  “So people who have one-night stands, are they bad?”

  “No, of course not. I could never do it; I’m just not wired that way. But I’m sure sex with someone you want to be with can be really good. I guess as long as you feel okay about yourself afterwards, and it’s consensual… But Cory, sharing sex with someone you love is beyond amazing.”

  He looked serious. “Son, you and I understand mechanical things. We like to know how things work, and what to do. That was the mechanical half of our talk on the way down. I guess there are some other practical things I should tell you.”

  “Like what?”

  “With kissing, and other – um – expressions of love... Do you understand what consent is?”

  “Yeah, giving permission.”

  “When you do get around to kissing a girl, and everything after that, make sure you have her consent, her active and enthusiastic consent. That’s important.”

  “Active and enthusiastic sounds good…”

  “Take things slow when you try anything new. Chances are that whatever you want to do, she’s as nervous as you are. So don’t coerce her in any way. No matter how bad you want to just act, never assume going further is okay. Communicate what you want before doing anything new, and be ready to back off.”

  “What do you mean by communicate?”

  “I mean talk. Ask permission.”

  “Like ‘May I kiss you, please?’ That just sounds weird.”

  “How about ‘I really like you. Can I kiss your forehead? Can I kiss your cheek? Can I kiss your lips?’ Is that better?”

  “A little.”

  “Make it a game; consent can be fun and sexy. But she has to say yes out loud. A nod, a wink or a giggle doesn’t mean yes. If she can’t do that, then she’s hesitant, and it’s the same as no. Only yes means yes, and again, if she wants to stop at any time for any reason, respect her wishes and don’t keep trying.”

  “I understand.”

  “And the same thing applies to you. If you aren’t comfortable with what another person wants to do, you have the right to stop anytime. But you already know that. With things beyond kissing, it’s best to talk before acting – you know, like with your clothes still on.”

  “Dad!”

  “I’m serious. Talk about what you want to do, and how much you’re comfortable with. Knowing each other’s expectations, your comfort zones, ahead of time makes things a lot more pleasant. Also, talk about the what-ifs. What if your birth control failed? How do you feel about abortion, adoption, or becoming a parent?”

  He was getting way ahead of me here, but it was cool that he thought I was mature enough to understand it now. Something about what he said didn’t sound right.

  “That sounds like it’d be really hard to do. I mean all this stuff about taking it slow – it sounds unnatural. Don’t most people just, you know, go with the flow?”

  “It is difficult. Hormones are a natural thing, but you have to be in control of them, not the other way around. It takes a lot of maturity. If you can’t do it right, then you aren’t ready yet. People who just ‘go with the flow’ often end up hurting the person they love. And I’ll tell you, Son, there is nothing in the world as bad as hurting someone you love.”

  “Yeah, I know.” That was a little too earnest, and earned me a quizzical look. “I mean, I can imagine.”

  “Anything you’d like to talk about, Son? We’re on a roll.”

  I looked out the window so he couldn't see my face. Stay calm, I told myself. Steer away from danger. I wanted to keep him talking instead of asking questions, but I had to think a few long seconds to come up with something.

  “How do you know when you’re in love, Dad?”

  “That’s easy." I heard the smile in his voice. "When you think of someone all the time and want to spend every moment with them, you’re in love. When just thinking of her makes your heart beat fast. That part is the infatuation, the obsession of being in love.”

  "What makes it happen?"

  "That's a mystery. Nobody knows why it comes and it goes. You have to recognize it’s a gift – you can’t earn it, you can’t control it, and you can’t keep it. You can only welcome it when it visits you, enjoy it when you have it, and let it go when it’s gone.”

  I looked at his face. He was serious.

  "What do you mean when it's gone?"

  "There are lots of kinds of love. Being “in love” is just one – it’s intense, but usually doesn’t last."

  "But you and Mom were in love. A long time.”

  “Yes, we were. At first it was almost every minute of every day. As we got used to the feeling it wasn’t as all-consuming.”

  I was pretty sure I could never get used to how I felt about Jess.

  “How could you ever get used to it?” I held my breath, wondering if I had revealed too much. He just checked his mirrors.

  “Adapting is something we humans are amazing at. Given a little time we can become used to almost anything – riches, poverty, cold or heat, happy or sad. After a while almost anything can seem normal.”

  “Okay, so being – in love – is like having a crush.”

  “Right, but while you’re in that state, you can’t entirely trust your feelings. You see in the other person what you want to see, not necessarily who she really is. It takes months or even years to be sure it’s real love, the kind that lasts.”

  “How long did it take you and Mom?”

  “Well, on rare occasions you do know right from the start. That’s how it was with your Mom and me. We both knew. Later – when the infatuation wore off – we each found little things that annoyed us about the other. That was okay, though. Nobody’s perfect. You have to love a person faults and all.”

  “Huh, an o
ld guy said that to me once.” It sounded like my feelings for Sis were the real thing. I was screwed.

  “So what else have you got?” he challenged.

  “No, I’m way too embarrassed.” I looked away and fiddled with the window crank.

  “Nothing’s off limits here – now or any other time. You can always talk to me in private. I’ll never judge you, make fun of you, or betray your trust. On Mom’s grave, I promise.”

  That almost took my breath away. He had never invoked that vow, and I knew that what he said had to be ironclad. For just a moment, I thought about telling him how I felt about Jessie, but that was too scary. He sensed my hesitation and glanced at me. I’d have to throw him off.

  “Well, okay… I’m dying to know what it’s like.” He glanced at me again, unsure. “What sex’s like, but I’m not sure I want to hear about it from you. No offense?”

  “None taken.” He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. “That took a lot of courage, and I admire that.” He pondered the idea, absently stroking his beard.

  “You know how they show it all dramatic on TV and in the movies? Real sex is different. The best metaphor I can think of is basketball.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Watching a sexy movie or looking at porn is like watching the Pistons play on TV. Sure, they’re real people, but they’re physically different from average people, and have trained for years to make the nearly impossible look easy. Actors and athletes are fun to watch, but don’t make the mistake of comparing yourself to them.

  “Real sex is more like playing one on one in your driveway, and no, I’m not advocating sex outdoors. I mean that it’s active, it’s physical and intimate. Like sports, real sex can leave you sweaty and breathless, and takes practice to get better at it. It’s fun and feels good, and takes your mind off everything else. Does that make any sense?”

  “Yeah, kinda.”

  “I could tell you what you might expect when you do decide to have sex.”

  “Okay, that sounds interesting. No personal anecdotes, though.”

  “Yeah, no problem there.” He pondered some more. “For most guys, it doesn’t happen like they plan, and it’s sometimes embarrassing. A guy’s body will be full of adrenalin; that makes you feel nervous or even scared.”

  I thought of the night before Jess and I flew to Colorado, and how excited and terrified I had felt. Just recalling it made me shiver, but he didn’t seem to notice and continued talking.

  “Most guys are too worried about doing it right. Your, um, body might not work as well as when you’re alone, or it might be over really quick. Sometimes it makes one of you pass gas. Oh, and it can be messy.”

  “Gee, thanks, Dad, you sure know how to paint a picture with words. But how do you know if you’re doing it right?”

  “There’s no one right way – every couple has to figure that out. Sometimes it’s serious and intense, and sometimes slow and romantic. Sometimes it makes you so happy you start laughing, and everything in between. It should be fun, and make you feel closer to each other. As long as it’s consensual and you both feel good about it, you’re doing it right.”

  “But the first time is bad?”

  He took his eyes off the road to look at me and smiled.

  “I don’t think it’ll be like that for you.” He checked his mirrors. “You’re a good guy, gentle and kind. You’re smart; you’ll make sure there’s plenty of time and privacy. It’ll be with someone who enthusiastically wants to be intimate with you, someone you love and trust. And it’ll be something that you both decided you’re ready for. You’ll be using birth control, so you won’t be worried about that. If you can’t relax and even laugh about it, it might not be the right time. But you’ll know that, too.”

  I couldn’t help but smile back. His praise and reassurance felt awesome. I closed my eyes and watched as shadows of the trees flew past, flashing warm sunlight on my eyelids. I thought of what it’d be like to lie with Jessie, naked and relaxed, slowly...”

  My eyes opened with shock. No! You can’t think like that! It can’t happen – you’re only driving yourself insane! But how could I stop? It was like she was in my bloodstream...

  Dad was looking at me, perhaps a little concerned. “Too much input?”

  “No, no, I’m good.” He didn’t look convinced. I watched as stuff went by, not really seeing it. Time to change the subject again. “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I wish Mom could be here for Jess like this.”

  “Me, too. More than you know.”

  “She probably needs her.”

  “Well, she’ll just have to make do with me. I guess it’s okay to tell you. I’ve asked the school counselor to chat with her – nothing I need a report on. Just to be there in case she’s willing to talk.” He started to say more, but paused. Deciding to continue, he said, “She and I have already had a couple talks.”

  “How did it go?”

  “A lot better than I thought. Still, I didn’t get a chance to say a lot of things I wanted to.”

  I thought about that. I loved them both, and this had been so good for me. “If I wanted to ask you something, like about falling in love or about, um, growing up, would it be okay to bring it up at the dinner table?”

  He gave me an odd look, but immediately saw where I was going with it. “Absolutely, if you think it’d be appropriate and you’re comfortable.”

  “Any ideas what I might be curious about?”

  “Huh, like you said, falling in love, dating, growing up, when you’re too old for something, or when you might be old enough. Stuff you hear in school or read about. Anything that opens a new topic...”

  “Cool, I think I can help with that. I mean, I’ll look for opportunities.”

  Once we got back from our shopping trip, Dad said he had plans for the evening, and asked if I could fend for myself. That was unlike him.

  “I’m going to join Jerry and the guys for a game of pool down at the Duck Inn. I’ll definitely be home late.” It didn’t even occur to me at the time that he might just be making himself scarce.

  It turned out to be an interesting and productive evening.

  It did feel strange – a little numb, and I understood why guys called them raincoats. But it never interfered with the outcome. As a matter of fact, that was better because it took longer to get there. I could imagine that would be a benefit in a real-life situation.

  I practiced both the disposal techniques that Dad mentioned, and decided that – unless you were somewhere with a septic system – flushing was much better. Rolled inside a tissue, it went right down. I double-bagged my trash and took it to the bin in the garage. I was actually a bit tender, so I walked slowly.

  When I finally lay down, I fell asleep almost instantly, and dreamed wild stuff. When I woke the next day, I limped to the shower, trying to remember why I was so sore. Oh yeah.

  I decided I’d show Spaz the packages. He’d get a kick out of seeing a drawer full of condoms. There was no chance he could keep it a secret, but that would be okay.

 
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