DISCLAIMER: Jenny is
mine. The other characters belong to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon
Productions. The book mentioned does exist, but the contents of my version are
but a figment of my imagination!
AUTHOR: Kristine
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Lee’s little
girl is growing up . . .
FEEDBACK: Yes, my ESP
is on the fritz.
TIMELINE: Many years
after the series ended.
NOTES: Thank you to
each and every child I’ve ever looked after. Talk about material!
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Birds Do It . . .
It
had been a quiet weekend, the quietest the Stetson-King household had seen in a
long time. The boys were with their father, Dotty was at a weekend literary
group, and Amanda was this year’s "ringer" at Station One.
After
Lee assured a worried Amanda that he could cope, alone, for two days with his
eight-year-old daughter, he and Jenny kissed her good-bye and promised to be
good.
Now
Lee was really enjoying spending extra time with Jenny. ‘I’ve got this
father-daughter thing down pat,’ he thought smugly. He sipped his coffee and
glanced up from the Washington Post Weekender. Yes, Jenny was still busily
mothering her little tribe of dolls.
She
paused midway through a vigorous hair-brushing of her favorite Cabbage Patch
doll. After studying him quietly, she broke the Sunday silence. "Daddy, do
you like babies?"
"Sure."
He took another mouthful of coffee.
"So
you don’t like sex, then?"
Lee
put down the paper, its print now unreadable due to the coffee he just
sputtered over it. "Wh-hh-h, what makes you say that, sweetheart?"
"Well,
Lucy’s mom is having a baby," Jenny said, seemingly oblivious to her
father’s near coronary.
"So
. . . ?" *By now I should be used to being totally lost in conversations
with my girls.*
"The
book Mommy gave me said a woman gets pregnant by having sex. I don’t have any
little brothers or sisters, so if you like babies, it must be the sex you don’t
like."
Lee
wondered how this earth-shattering conversation could be held with such amazing
calmness. Jenny’s part of it, at least. Her hazel eyes held curiosity but
remained strangely placid.
His
own eyes, he was sure, were bugging out of his head. He tried to assume the
nonchalant expression he used in easier situations. Like being questioned by
the KGB.
"Hey,
listen, could I see this book a minute?" With shaking hands, he tried to
mop up the mess on the kitchen counter.
"Sure,
it’s in my room."
Lee
watched as she skipped over to the staircase.
*She
looks the same.*
*Same
brown curls, same hazel eyes.*
*Yeah,
and now she’s questioning my sex life.*
Seems
some changes weren’t entirely cosmetic.
Her
return interrupted his musings. So did the appearance of THE BOOK (as Lee would
always refer to it when speaking of this in the future).
It
looked innocent enough. A smiling little girl’s face, drawn on the blue cover.
The
title, however, made his heart skip a beat. "Where Did I Come From?"
A
vague memory swam to the forefront of his mind. Amanda, telling him something
over a late lunch last week at Emilio’s.
Something
about Jenny having questions, and that it was perfectly normal for her age.
If
he’d known he’d be in this situation, he’d have listened, he swore. Listened
and taken detailed notes.
The
more he skimmed the pages, the worse it got. He admitted defeat when his eyes
focused on one particular illustration.
*Dear
Lord, sperm with smiley faces!*
Closing
the book quickly—but far too late, in his opinion—he looked his little
interrogator straight in the face. "When a mommy and a daddy love each
other, they can have, err, umm . . ."
"Sex,"
a little voice piped up.
"Yeah,
they can have, um, that," Lee finished lamely.
"Uh-huh."
"But
sex . . ." *Breathe, damn it!* "Sex doesn’t always have to mean
babies."
"It
doesn’t always make babies?" She sounded incredulous.
Lee
shook his head and mentally calculated the number of women who had once graced,
if not his life, at least his bed.
*Shit,
I hope not!*
Jenny
was looking at him thoughtfully. "Then why do it, if you don’t end up with
a baby every time?"
*Because
the world’s health care systems couldn’t cope with that many blind men all at
once.*
Instead
of voicing this aloud, he chose his next words carefully. "Mommies and
daddies like to be happy, so they do things that are nice." Sending up a
silent prayer to the inventor of latex, Lee decided to push on. "All clear
now, pumpkin?"
*Please,
God, let this be the end!*
"It
looks kinda hard. You must have to practice, like me with my fractions."
That
did it. Lee made the best decision he’d made all day. He stood up and loudly
cleared his throat. "Come on, if we’re going to Chuckie Cheese, we need to
get a move on!"
~ ~ ~
~ ~
Two Weeks Later,
Rockdale Elementary School
"She
said it was your idea, Mr. Stetson."
"I
really don’t understand what you mean, Mrs. Chapman." Lee smiled, hoping
to convince the wizened schoolteacher of his innocence.
"She
brought that sex education book to school, Mr. Stetson, and offered to answer
any questions her friends might have."
Lee
studied his fingernails intently.
"The
boys are fascinated about what boys can do, and the girls . . . well, little
Caitlin O’Neill will never be the same again, I’m afraid."
He
coughed, hoping she wouldn’t tell him more about Caitlin.
The
teacher glared at the squirming agent through her chunky bifocals. "Did
you really tell her it feels nice and to practice lots?"
Amid
Amanda’s loud peals of laughter, he reminded himself once more, ‘It had all
been going so well . . .’
THE
END
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