He shook his head. “Shit. I just can’t believe we’re there already. I mean, I know they grow up, but this fast?”
“Were you kissing girls at thirteen?” she asked.
He cast his mind back to his teen years and sighed. “Yes. I guess I was.”
“I bet you thought about that all the time?” she asked.
“Yes,” he confessed. “Sandy Matthews. She was my first real kiss.”
“Ooooh,” Doris teased. “Sounds scandalous. And was there tongue?”
He burst out laughing at that. “Bad tongue.”
“I know what you mean, my first kiss was with Arthur Goldblum. He just shoved it all in and then flapped it about like a fish. It made this gross noise that I still remember to this day.”
He laughed even more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like this.
“See,” she said cheerfully. “She needs to have this.”
“What?” he asked.
“This. This conversation—one day, with someone—about how bad their first kiss was.”
He stopped and thought about it for a while. But first kisses lead to other things, which lead to . . . he didn’t even want to think about it. He swallowed.
“And . . . sex?” he asked tentatively. “I just don’t want her to . . . you know. How do I talk to her about that? When do I? Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”
Suddenly, he felt it. A reassuring hand on his shoulder. She squeezed and it felt, it felt . . .God, it felt good. He hadn’t had a reassuring hand on his shoulder in so long, not since his sister. The traffic light turned red and he stopped the car; this gave them a moment. He turned in his seat and looked at her. He wanted to reach up and place his hand over hers, but . . .should he?
“I think the fact that you even worry about these kinds of things means you are doing a good job.” She smiled. Her voice was soft and soothing, and he felt reassured.
“Thanks,” he said.
“And for the rest of it, there is always Google.” She smiled at him. “I bet you there are single dad blogs out there you could follow, I bet there are online groups on Facebook you could join.”
He nodded. He hadn’t thought about that. “Thanks, that’s a good idea.” Her smile grew and so did his. “I really . . .” He paused. He struggled with words like these. “I really appreciate this, Doris. You talking to me about this, and agreeing to help. It really, it means a lot. Thanks.”
She squeezed his shoulder again and he slowly began raising his hand, determined to place it on top of hers. But before he could, the traffic lights turned green and someone was honking at him.
CHAPTERFIFTY-SIX
Poppy
We arrived at his house and he led me upstairs. He knocked on one of the doors tentatively. As if he was scared to go in. Well, I hoped he wasn’t in the habit of just barging into his teenage niece’s room. That would be a recipe for a huge argument. Maybe I needed to tell him about that.
“Emmy,” he called out.
A small voice finally replied. “What?” She didn’t sound happy, and I recognized that tone immediately.
“Can I come in?” he asked. He looked nervous.
“I suppose.” She didn’t sound extremely excited by the idea.
He slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. I followed behind him cautiously. I didn’t want to upset what seemed to be an already rather tense situation.
“Who’s that?” she immediately asked upon seeing me. She looked a lot like him; her blue eyes were just as striking as his, and she had long black hair that cascaded over her shoulders.
“Uh, this is my assistant, Doris.” He sounded so unsure of himself right now.
