"So I can say it sucks?"

"You couldn't very well say, 'the curriculum at this institution of learning fails to meet my academic expectations' could you? They'd drum you out of the seventh grade for being a wise-mouth."

She tried not to but she laughed. "So why am I being punished?"

"I just used it as an excuse to get you up here alone, so I could tickle you . . . ," I answered, tickling her belly.

"Stop it!" she laughed.

". . . and talk."

"I told you I didn't want to talk."

"But you have to. I'm boss. Ask a question."

"The last one I asked you wouldn't answer."

"I told you I would later. I just wanted time to think through my answer."

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"Okay," she answered. "I'll try another. How old were you when you first did it?"

"You don't quit easily, do you?"

"Nope." She looked at me expectantly.

"Guess."

"On your wedding night; in your twenties."

I thought about my answer carefully. It would have been so easy to fib. I know I could have carried it off, but somehow this strange new mother-daughter relationship begged for candor and honesty.

"Seventeen," I answered.

She immediately became serious. "It was Doug, your first husband, wasn't it?" I shook my head, no. "Did you love the guy?"

"Nope. I didn't even like him."

She was shocked, first, that I'd answer her question and secondly by my answer. "Why did you let him . . . do it to you? Did he rape you?"

"I let him do it because I was mad and stupid. Especially stupid. I was trying to get back at someone."

"Who was he?" I tried to wave away the question as I shook my head.

"Honesty," she said. "I'm invoking the honesty clause. You have to answer."

In spite of my every effort, I began to cry. It totally shocked Karen, and I was heartsick to expose her to my deeper feelings. I went to the dresser and grabbed some tissues.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"No, Karen. It's me. I want to tell you. I can't; not just now. It doesn't have anything to do with you. It was just a very painful time and it hurts too much. I promise you I'll tell you, just not now." I returned to the chair.

"See? Sex isn't something casual; it has long term affects. What happened more than twenty years ago still hurts." I took a couple of deep breaths. "Try another question. I'm sorry I couldn't answer the last one."

"No; it's okay. I'm sorry I upset you."

"I want you to ask."

She thought a moment. "Did you ever cheat on your other husband?" I hesitated. "You can claim privacy again, if you want to."




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