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“Remember, every answer is a no if you never ask!” Jake called, as he followed his wife back to the house.
I finished up the shoveling and headed back inside to find Nina sitting at the table staring at her stone cold breakfast. I shook my head as I shed my winter gear and waited for her to say something.
“Dad, this stuff is cold,” she said, looking at her plate and up at me.
“I know, I fixed breakfast an hour ago, but you decided to sleep rather than eat,” I said, pouring myself another cup of coffee. “Put it in the microwave and warm it up.”
“That’s disgusting!” she protested.
“Then you can make yourself a substitute breakfast,” I said, as I searched the counter for my phone. I found it under a stack of unopened mail.
“Dad, that’s so mean!” she cried.
“Yep, that’s me. Mean dad of the year,” I said, as I took my phone and my coffee cup out into the living room. “Buck up, buttercup! I’ll take you to lunch if you get ready quickly!”
Nina ran out of the kitchen and down the hall as soon as the words left my mouth. I shook my head as I checked the screen of my phone and found a message from Emily, “Had a great time last night! Do it again soon?”
I quickly typed, “Won’t be soon enough!” and hit Send. I waited, but when there was no immediate reply, I assumed she was busy and went to get ready to take Nina to lunch.
We headed to Nina’s favorite hamburger joint near the mall for lunch. When the server brought our burgers, Nina stuffed several fries in her mouth and then bit into the burger as if she were starving.
“You know, if you’d get up at a decent hour, you could have breakfast with me, and then you wouldn’t need to eat like a wild animal,” I commented, as she wiped catsup from her chin.
“Dad, don’t you know you’re not supposed to criticize the way your child eats,” she said, after she’d chewed and swallowed. “It’s not good for my self-esteem or my body image.”
“What in the hell?” I said, as I stared at my daughter. “Where on earth did you get that bullshit from?”
“Dad!” Nina protested. “We’re in public! Watch your language!”
“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d be lectured by my own daughter,” I chuckled, as I bit into my burger and chewed thoughtfully. Nina smirked at me as she polished off her meal, and then leaned over to grab a few of my fries off my plate.
“So, how're things with Ms. Fowler?” she asked with a knowing grin.
“Fine,” I said, trying to cut off the conversation. I had no idea where things were headed with Em
ily, but I knew where I wanted them to head and that talking about it with my daughter wasn’t yet in the cards.
“Good date last night?” she pressed.
“Yep, it was nice,” I nodded. “Dinner was really good.”
“Uh huh,” Nina smirked. “You go back to her place for dessert?”
“Nina Marie Gaston, that is enough from you,” I warned.
“Aw, c’mon, Dad, don’t be such a stick in the mud,” she chided. “I just want to make sure that you’re being safe, sane, and consensual about things.”
“Where the hell are you getting this stuff?” I asked, feeling profoundly uncomfortable and decidedly reassured that my daughter had listened to her mother and I over the years, and had retained the basics of the lessons we’d agreed to teach.
“You and Mom have been lecturing me on safe, sane, and consensual since I was five,” she said, as if she’d read my mind. “And I’ve been reading those books you keep stored on the high shelf in the living room.”
“Good Lord, those aren’t for teenagers,” I said, wondering which ones she’d read and hoping they’d been the milder tomes.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t dig into the hardcore stuff, I just stuck with the basics,” she said, giving me a look that told me she knew what I was thinking. “God, you really do think I’m like 10, don’t you? I’m old enough to surf the web for porn, Dad. Don’t you think I’d have some questions that need answering?”
“Yeah, but I thought your mother would have taken charge of those lessons,” I said, shifting in my seat as I wavered between wanting her to feel like she could ask me anything and not wanting to discuss either one of our sex lives over lunch.
“Unlikely,” Nina said, rolling her eyes. “She gave me the standard responsible sex talk a few months ago, and asked if I needed to get on birth control, but she doesn’t want to answer any of my more emotional questions about sex.”
