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Dr. Daddy's Virgin - A Standalone Novel (A Single Dad Romance) by Claire Adams (15)


Chapter Fifteen

Allie

 

When I’d been growing up, one of my mother’s good friends had lived in an apartment that had a roof people could go on and hang out at; there were lounge chairs and a grill set up, and I did have good memories of hot, hazy summer nights, being atop that roof, looking out over the city while the smell of charcoal smoke wafted through the air.

That was what I had in the back of my mind as I got ready for the cookout that afternoon. I’d never actually used a grill before, but this was a gas one, and earlier that morning, I had gone to the store and gotten a fresh propane tank, along with several bags of groceries.

I stood at the kitchen counter and chopped vegetables for the pasta salad, and I thought about maybe stringing up some white Christmas lights outside. It was nowhere near Christmas, of course, but white Christmas lights looked good any time of the year, especially when they were outside, decorating the overhanging branches of a maple tree.

Cole and Declan came over around 4, Declan carefully carrying a Tupperware container full of some sort of cookies.

“I figured it’d be okay if we came over now,” Cole said. “I texted you a little while ago but didn’t hear back.”

“You did? I didn’t hear my phone, sorry. Actually, I’m not even sure where my phone is; I think I might have left it in the car.” I looked at Declan. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“I helped Dad make these this afternoon,” he said. “Oatmeal chocolate chip. We made two batches. But the first one we had to throw away.”

“You did?” I said. “How come?”
Cole grinned. “I asked Declan to put the cinnamon in for me, but—”

“Dad gave me the wrong thing! He didn’t give me cinnamon.”

“I might have grabbed the cayenne by accident. Which we both realized upon sampling the batter.”
I laughed. “Oh, my. That must’ve been a surprise.”

“Well, better we figured it out then as opposed to later when we were all biting into one. I know in some places cayenne and chocolate goes together, but this was a little... overpowering.”

“We had to go back to the store and everything,” Declan said. “Since we had to throw the first batch away. That was kind of sad. But we were very careful when we did it the second time and made sure to use all the right things.”
“They certainly look delicious,” I said. “Do you want to put them on the table over there?”
“These ones are much better,” Declan told me seriously. “We made sure to try the batter on these, too.”
“What can we help you with?” Cole asked.

“I think I’ve got things pretty much squared away,” I said. “This is actually the first cookout I’ve ever had.”
“Are more people coming?” Declan asked.

“Um...no,” I said. “Not this time. Maybe we should plan on doing another one, though, and we can invite more people, how does that sound?”

“Okay! Can we go look at the garden?”
“Of course.”

We went out into the backyard, and Declan poked around in the garden for a little while, inspecting some of the flowers that I had bought, proclaiming that some had sprouted new blooms.

“I think they’re happy here,” he said.

“That’s good. I’m happy they like the garden we worked so hard on.”
He examined a patch of soil. “I don’t see any of the seeds growing.”

“Not yet. That usually takes a couple of weeks.”

Declan then ran over to his backyard and retrieved a Frisbee, which we played for a while, and then he said he was hungry.

My resolve with Cole was definitely wavering, which was becoming all the more apparent to me the more we hung out. What, exactly, had my plan been? I tried to dredge up the conversation that Declan had with me when he first told me about the bet. I tried to imagine the two of them sitting there, making that fucking ridiculous bet in the first place. Talking about me like I was some sort of conquest, something to be won or lost, not actually even a person. And yeah, there was a little flare of anger, but it was hard to be keep it fanned because I knew that’s not how Cole really was.

“I suppose that means I should get the grill started then,” I said.

Cole grinned. “You need any help?”
“Is it that obvious I’m a complete amateur?”

“Well... I did notice the propane tank isn’t hooked up yet.”
“Okay,” I said, laughing. “You got me. I’ve only ever been to other cookouts; I’ve never actually hosted them. Maybe you could get that hooked up, and Declan, you can come inside and help me bring some of the stuff out?”

Declan followed me inside, and I gave him the bags of hamburger and hot dogs buns to carry outside. I took the plate of hamburgers and the bag of hot dogs I’d gotten from the deli and brought them out, then I went back in and got the pasta salad. Cole had the propane tank all hooked up and the grill started.

“Getting this thing nice and hot for ya,” Cole said. “Do you have any grill spray?”

“Uh... no. Is that a requirement?”

“Not required; the stuff might stick a little more. Or maybe not. The hot dogs won’t.”

I interlaced my fingers and stretched my arms out straight. “All right, all right,” I said. “Stand back, everyone. I am about to impress you all with my grill skills.”

“Master griller and a poet,” Cole said, nudging Declan. “Let’s watch and learn.”

I took a deep breath. I could do this—all that was really required was put the burgers and the dogs on the grill, let them cook on one side, flip them over, let them finish on the other, and voila! Right? Now, though, with Cole and Declan right there watching, I felt a little wave of nervousness, like I was going to somehow mess this up.

I took the plastic wrap off the burgers and placed them down on the grill, the meat sizzling.

“Can I have a hamburger and a hot dog?” Declan asked.

Cole looked at him. “You think you can eat that much?”

“I can.”

“I better do a good job on these, then,” I said. I was less concerned about the hot dogs; they were already cooked through, it was just a matter of making sure they didn’t get too charred.
“Surprise!”

I froze, spatula poised above the grill. It was my mother, and behind her, was Bill.

“I never heard back from you, so we just decided to take the chance and drive up here and see if you were home! Which you are, apparently.”

“I kind of had plans,” I said tightly. I glanced over at Cole, who was looking at them curiously. “And I don’t even know where my phone is.”

“That’s silly of you. What if there was some sort of emergency and someone needed to get in touch with you? You should have your phone on you.”

I tried not to roll my eyes. “Okay,” I said. “So, you’re here. Yeah. Surprise.”

“So nice to see you again,” my mother said, going over to Cole. “And you too,” she said, looking at Declan. “This is my husband, Bill.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bill said, shaking Cole’s hand. He smiled at Declan. “And how old are you?”
I tried to tune him out. It felt like my shoulders were up to my ears, and I took a deep breath. Was this really fucking happening? Had she really just driven all the way up here with him, without even talking to me first? What if I hadn’t been here? What if I had gone away for the weekend or something? I knew the answer to that already, though—if I hadn’t been home when she got up here, she would’ve looked online and found the fanciest restaurant in the area and had Bill take her out there.

“What are you making?” my mother asked. “I didn’t know you knew how to grill.”

“I do know how to cook, Mom,” I said.

She reached over and squeezed my shoulders. “You look tense,” she said. “You need a massage. There’s probably not a good spa around here, is there?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not sure a massage would help, anyway.”

Being around Bill made me simultaneously feel sick and feel overwhelmingly enraged. He didn’t seem so powerful now, not like he did when I was a teenager. As he sat there, sipping a beer, talking with Cole about fishing, he seemed completely innocuous. Like a total gentleman, in fact, not at all the sort of person you would expect to try and make a pass at his stepdaughter. But I knew if he kept drinking, he’d get more belligerent; at first it would seem funny, like he was the life of the party, but then it would start to get uncomfortable.

What would he do, I wondered, if I stood up and slapped the beer out of his hand, told him that maybe he had forgotten all about that night when I was 15, but I sure as hell had not?

He’d probably deny it.

And maybe that was what kept me in my seat, refusing to meet his gaze, answering his queries with one-word responses. It had happened so long ago, and though I was certain that it did indeed take place, the passage of time had rendered some of the details fuzzy in my mind. Had he crawled under the sheets, or had he remained on top of them? Had he slid his hand under my shirt as I lay there, curled up on my bed? Those things I couldn’t quite remember, but what had been cemented in my mind was the way his hard one had pressed into my back, his beer breath on my neck, wafting over me, his hands, fingertips like spider legs, creeping up my flanks.

But now, so much time had gone by, what would be the point of me accusing him? Nothing had happened, after all. He hadn’t gotten any further than those hands of his brushing my sternum than I’d flailed away from him, kicking back with my heels, launching him off the side of the bed. He laughed, but then he’d stopped laughing when I kicked out again and caught him on the side of the face. For some reason, I’d been completely unafraid that he would hurt me, and if he had tried, I probably would have clawed his eyes out.

“Don’t you ever fucking come near me again,” I’d snarled as he gathered himself up off the floor. He swayed a little, then staggered out of the room, leaving my bedroom door wide open. When I got up to shut it, I heard him opening another beer. About an hour after that, as I lay there, wide awake, I heard my mother come in. That would have been the time to tell her, but then she laughed loudly at something Bill had said, and I knew the moment was gone. Even if I had run out there and told her, there was still a good chance she wouldn’t have believed me. Not that I hadn’t later tried to bring up the matter, but it had always gone poorly. My mother’s ego was too frail to be able to withstand that sort of accusation; she’d be less concerned about the fact that some guy had tried to do something with her daughter than the fact that the guy in question was apparently choosing me over her. I had never wanted to be competitive with my mother, but I knew she felt that way with me, especially as we’d both gotten older.

The food had turned out great, better than I had thought, but it was hard to sit there and pretend like I wasn’t completely bothered by the fact that Bill was there. It was particularly enraging that he and Cole seemed to have an easy time talking together. When they finally announced that they were leaving, it was all I could do not to jump for joy.

“That was delicious,” my mother said. “And so glad that we were finally able to spend some time with you, Cole. And you too, of course, Declan,” she added, almost as an afterthought. She looked around the yard. “You know, I suppose there is something sort of quaint about up here, that whole back-to-nature vibe and everything. But next time, you guys should plan on coming down to the city, what do you say? We could go to a nice restaurant, do a little exploring.” She looked at Declan. “Have you ever been to LEGOLAND?”

“No,” Declan said, his eyes wide. “There is such a place?”
“There most certainly is. And I bet if you guys came down to visit us in Boston, we’d be able to go there!”
After they left, Cole looked at me, a little skeptically. “Does your mother really want to take Declan to LEGOLAND?” he asked. “I don’t mean any offense by this or anything, but she doesn’t really seem to be the sort of person who, I don’t know, would like to go to a place like that.”

I laughed. “No offense taken. And no, she’s not, but I think her main objective is to get us to come down to the city.”

“I’m pretty sure I told her that I’d lived there when I was going to school.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did, but she’s probably assuming that if we go back down there and you let her show you around, then you’ll fall in love with the city all over again and just have to move back there.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Yeah, don’t worry. Me neither.”
“Your mom seems nice, though. Your stepdad didn’t really say much—he’s not much of a talker, is he?”
I stared off into the darkness, listening to the peepers somewhere in the distance. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get into that whole story about Bill. “We don’t always get along,” I finally said.

“I could tell. I think that can be kind of common with stepparents.”
“It’s not that,” I said. I didn’t want him to think this was some case of us not getting along simply because he wasn’t my father yet he was married to my mother. “He basically tried to sexually assault me when I was 15.”
“What?”
“We’d had an all right relationship before that, but then that happened, and things obviously haven’t been the same since.”

“Shit. And your mom stayed with him?”
“She doesn’t know it happened. It wouldn’t go over with her very well. And it’s not like anything happened anyway, so it’s better to just let these things go. I’m sure he’d just deny it. And my mom wouldn’t be able to handle it anyway.”

Cole let out a deep breath. “I know how that is. But damn, Allie. That’s kind of messed up—we just had dinner with the guy. I should’ve fucking clocked him.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. He probably doesn’t even remember that it happened, which doesn’t make it better or anything, but—”

“Is that why you’re a virgin?” Cole asked suddenly.

“Excuse me?” I said, laughing. “Where did that even come from?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “It just seems like that might have something to do with it. Even if nothing happened that night, you might still be harboring some of that trauma—”

“I’m not traumatized by it. Maybe I was a little then, but it was almost 10 years ago at this point.”
“People can carry that sort of shit with them their whole lives.”
“Please. I don’t need you to psychoanalyze me right now. I’m a virgin because I haven’t yet met any guy I was interested in sleeping with.”
“Until now?”
I stared at him. “Does it feel nice to be that full of yourself? I might not mind your company, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you.” Which was completely untrue, of course, but he didn’t have to know that.
He gave me a chagrined look. “You’re right—it was presumptuous. Though that night we kissed—no one’s ever bitten me like that before. That’s gotta mean something, right?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know.”

 

My eyes had been closed for maybe five seconds when my phone started to go off. I debated ignoring it, but then I reached over to the bedside table and picked it up, looking at the screen. It was my mother, and it was way later than my mother would normally ever call. I accepted the call, wondering if something was wrong.

“Mom?” I said.

“Oh good, I’m glad you’re still awake.”

“Sort of—I’m in bed. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is just fine, I was waiting until we got back to the city to call you though, I didn’t want to have this conversation in the car with Bill sitting right there. We had a lovely time, by the way. I know I told you that when we were leaving, but I wanted to reiterate that to you. Bill thought Cole was very nice.”

“I’m sure he did,” I said, though what I really wanted to say was I don’t give a shit what Bill thinks.

“And I, of course, think Cole is wonderful, too. I’m so glad that I went over and introduced the two of you that day. Can you imagine if the two of you had never met? Wouldn’t that be awful?”
“I really don’t think that would happen, seeing as we live next to each other. If you hadn’t gone over there like that, I am pretty sure that we would have run into each other by now and made the introduction. You know, considering that I’m his son’s teacher and all, too.”

“Declan is pretty cute,” she said. “He’s nowhere near as high maintenance as some children his age. That really says something about Cole’s parenting skills.”

I tried not to roll my eyes, and then I remembered I was on the phone, so I was free to roll my eyes as much as I pleased. She was talking like she was some sort of parenting expert, or like she had this extensive experience in early childhood.

“Anyway, Mom,” I said. “Like I said, I was in bed, so is there a reason for this call, other than to commend Cole’s parenting skills?”
“Well, there is, actually. I’m calling because I think that you and Cole should...  you know... get together. You should sleep with him,” she said.

“Seriously, Mom?” I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice. “You are seriously calling me right now to tell me this?”

“I’m calling because I worry about you sometimes, Allie, and I have often wondered what opportunities you have passed up simply because you’re completely unaware that they’re happening.”

“I really can’t believe you’re this concerned about my sex life.”

“Darling, you can’t have a sex life if you’ve never had sex before.”

“And so what if I haven’t? What if I decide I never want to have sex?”
“Well, frankly, that’s just not normal. I would be very concerned if you told me you really felt that way.”

“Maybe I do,” I said, even though that wasn’t the case at all.

There was a pause. I didn’t say anything; I’d let her think that I wasn’t normal, that she had raised a daughter who would rather be celibate.

“You don’t mean that,” she finally said. “And I know that you don’t mean that because the sexual tension between you and Cole tonight was completely undeniable. And that is really the main reason for my call. You might be blind to it, you might not realize that it’s happening, but everyone else there tonight was very well aware of it. So I’m just giving you this reminder, making you aware, so you don’t let another opportunity pass you by.”

“Oh, you mean like with Bill?”
Another silence now, a longer one. I hadn’t meant to say that—I wasn’t even thinking about Bill. Except that maybe I always was, maybe there was a part of my subconscious that had locked that memory away from that night so long ago, and I carried that with me now, and it was there, in the back of my mind, every time that I met a guy I might’ve been interested in.

“What do you mean, like with Bill?”
“If there’s any reason that I haven’t been interested in guys all these years it’s because of your husband.”

“Allie, I don’t even understand what you’re trying to say. Are you overtired? Maybe you should get some sleep. I was just calling because—”

“What I’m trying to say is that Bill tried to make a pass at me one night, when I was 15. You were out with your friends or something.”

“Allie!” She sounded horrified. “Stop making things up. Why would you even say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Mom. Because you’re all worried and shit over why I’m still a virgin, and maybe I have a good reason to be! Maybe the first guy that’s ever shown interest in me was your fucking husband, and that traumatized me and made me not want to be with anyone!”
“Don’t you dare blame us for this!” my mother snapped. “That’s absolutely ridiculous. You’re being completely unreasonable. And concocting these bizarre little fantasies about Bill is just going way too far, Allie. It was painfully obvious that you liked him when you were younger, but everyone just thought you’d grow out of that. I thought it was a good sign, in fact, because it’s normal for young girls to develop a sort of infatuation with their fathers. What is that called again? That Greek name?”

“Electra,” I said. “But that’s not it.”

“And so I didn’t try to do anything to stop it because to me that meant you were accepting Bill as part of our family,” my mother continued, as though I hadn’t said anything. “I knew several women who had been divorced and were remarried and their children hated their stepfathers. I was relieved that it wasn’t the case with you and Bill. I felt like the three of us were really a family. It was nice.”

“You know, I might have, too, until he tried to climb into bed with me. That’s not something that normal fathers do.”

“I find it odd that I’m hearing about this now. Almost 10 years later. Why wouldn’t you tell me this when it happened? If it was so traumatizing to you, why wouldn’t it come up then? Why would you keep quiet about it?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this. I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“I think it’s convenient is all. You’re bringing this up now because you’re trying to come up with justifications for not getting involved with anyone. Well, I’m going to tell you right now, Allie, that you don’t need to be so dramatic about all of this, okay? I was just calling because I think that you and Cole seem to have very good chemistry together, and that I don’t think it’s something you should just slip by. Not every mother would call her daughter about this sort of thing, you know. I’m looking out for you. I’m trying to do what’s in your best interest. And you’re just hurling these baseless accusations. I’d think you’d be a little more mature.”

“Oh my God, really? I don’t even know what to say to that, Mom. This has nothing to do with me being mature. This has to do with the fact that your husband did something fucked up, and you don’t want to hear about it. Should I have told you this when it happened? Yeah, maybe I should have, but I knew you’d react like this.”

“Did anything happen, Allie?”

“Between me and Bill? No. Other than he climbed into my bed and tried to feel me up.”

“He was probably just checking in on you. I just can’t believe that if something like this had really happened that you’d keep quiet about it. And Bill is not some child molester. He’s not some pedophile or something. God! Do you hear what you’re suggesting?”

“I was 15. It’s not like I was 5.”

“I think I’m going to get off the phone now, Allie. This whole conversation is very upsetting, and I’d really rather not end my day on a note like this.”

“It’s upsetting to me that I can’t even have a conversation with you about this. I’m not trying to ruin your night, Mom, but you call me up, wanting to know why I haven’t had sex before, and I’m just trying to shed some light on the situation for you, which you totally don’t want to hear about. And I get it—it’s not the most comfortable situation to be having. But guess what? It wasn’t the most comfortable situation to be in. And then for you two to just show up like that today, completely unannounced—”

“Everyone had a wonderful time! You’re making it sound like we crashed this party of yours and totally ruined it!”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you guys. And there’s a good reason why I wouldn’t just want Bill showing up at my house like that. And now you know it. Even if you don’t believe me.”

There was another long silence. “I think it’s time I get off the phone,” she finally said, her voice tight. “Goodnight, Allie.”

“Bye,” I said.

I put the phone back on the bedside table and lay back down, but there was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep now. I felt way too worked up. I knew she would react like that if I told her about Bill. That she’d deny it, make excuses, and ultimately, not believe a word that I was saying. I wondered, though, if she’d crawl in bed next to him tonight and lay there, wondering if there was a shred of truth to what I’d told her. I doubted that she would ask him about it, but then again, she might. And he’d deny it, and then they’d both forget about it, and it would be as if nothing had ever happened to begin with.

I got up. Outside, there was enough moonlight that it was casting shadows, though it wasn’t completely full the way it had been that night Cole and I had sat up by the lake. Still, there was certainly enough to see by. I grabbed a pair of running shorts and put them on, then slipped my feet into my shoes. I stepped outside into the cool night air, and I started to jog down the street. At the end of the road, I turned left and kept going. I’d been all ready to fall asleep right before my mother had called, but now sleep felt like it was miles away.

It was nice being out late like this, though, when there was no one else around. The few houses I ran by were either dark or illuminated by the bluish glow from a TV. As I ran, I tried to think of how I would react if I had a daughter and she told me something like that. I sure as hell wouldn’t tell her that I didn’t believe her or that she must’ve been making it up.

At the end of the next street, I took another left, which would eventually connect me with a little road that would take me back home. I sprinted the last part of the way, running so hard it felt like my heart was going to explode out of my chest. But it also felt good, because it obliterated the rest of the thoughts from my mind. And then I walked for a minute, to cool myself down, and finally I felt as though I could go back inside and fall asleep.

There was a light on at Cole’s, a light in the living room, though it didn’t look like the TV was on. I wondered what he was doing in there, and part of me wanted to go up to the door and knock. But I didn’t.

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