Darren, Male, 53

	- Narrator, retired, father of Gwen and Victoria (Vic)

	- 5'11, beige skin, 195lbs, cropped greying brown hair

Audrey, Female, 15

	- High school student, daughter of Duncan and Theresa

	- 5'9, pale skin, 135lbs, light-green eyes, straight auburn hair over her shoulders

Gwen, Female, 15

	- High school student, daughter of Darren, sister of Victoria

	- 5'5, beige skin, 130lbs, shoulder-length wavy black hair

Victoria (Vic), Female, 14

	- Eighth-grade student, daughter of Darren, sister of Gwen

	- 5'3, beige skin, 115lbs, wavy neck-length light-brown hair

Joyce, Female, early-80s

	- Wife of Herman, grandmother of Audrey, mother of Theresa

	- 5'6, beige skin, 115lbs, bobbed salt-and-pepper hair

Herman, Male, early-80s

	- Husband of Joyce, grandfather of Audrey, father of Theresa

	- 6'0, beige-olive skin, 180lbs, thin short gray hair

I think about my own death from time to time, and it was one such moment of reflection that I realized something less obvious which had so strongly attracted me to Audrey. Well, it wasn't just one thing. She was intelligent and witty, passionate and beautiful. She was driven, determined, and disciplined. She had a soft side and great strength. All that and more should demand that I give no further explanation to myself for how I'd come to fall for her.

But thinking about my own death made me realize that Audrey's youth was also a key. I was in my fifties, and though I hoped to have another two or three decades of good health and a reasonably-comfortable life, I was old enough to know that I'd seen more days in my past than remained in my future.

We all look for ways to live forever. Some turn to religion and the post-death promises made. Others look to art and music and academics to add to the body of culture and knowledge for those left behind. And some people seek to form relationships with people who far outlive them in hopes that the positive impact would be meaningful to at least one person. Sure, I had my daughters, and they would surely outlive me, but that personal connection, the intimate, romantic interplay I'd had with Audrey, having that survive my death in her memories would have been wonderful and welcome. Certainly, this was part of my unconscious desire to live beyond my years.

Realizing that Audrey would outlive me by some decades was a somber recognition. I knew what it was like to lose a loved partner. It isn't easy, and when it happens to someone so young after a long, strong relationship, the one left behind can often flounder trying to recover. I'd had my girls to keep me mostly steady after my wife died, but it took a lot out of me. I felt older than my years as a result, and that just reinforced the age difference between Audrey and me.

Why would I want Audrey to go through that? Sure, in all relationships that last long enough, one partner would outlive the other, but usually, there is a similarity of expectations, people near the same age who were in the same stage of life. You never knew when the other might die, but the older you got, the more certain it was that it would happen soon. I was getting old enough that I could die before Audrey hit thirty, maybe even twenty. How could I even consider wanting the teen to renew our relationship only to have me break her heart again by passing away?

Morbid thoughts like those slid through my mind often during the days between last leaving Buffalo and the day Audrey arrived at her grandparent's door in a cab. I can't say that I'd been completely able to move on, but I had been able to let the hurt fade away, mostly. My daughters finished up their freshman and eighth-grade years and started summer break. They flew out to be with my sister again where Gwen was also enrolling in a prestigious summer dance school. The girls would stay about six weeks. It wasn't planned, but when my eldest had been accepted into the limited-entry program in Aruba, it was a no-brainer for her to go.

Vic was not as hot on leaving. Her leg was still healing but she was getting around without the crutches most of the time. She'd hoped to stay in Houston where she could spend the days with her friends. Instead, I thought it best if the sisters kept together instead of staying apart, and Vic reluctantly agreed to go. I'd found her some activities offered by the local library there which allowed her to go on an archaeological dig and other trips which she should enjoy.

It meant I'd at least have fewer reasons for Audrey to want to come over. If my girls had been around, they'd have surely invited my ex to join them in the pool. I wondered if Audrey would come over as freely or as often without Gwen and Vic to create a buffer.

June in Houston is hot. Not as hot as July and August, but still hot. It hadn't rained in three weeks, and what little breeze my neighborhood got had been missing for days. I sat out on the front porch in my button-up boxers and no shirt, drinking scotch in the 4pm heat and reading a book. I'd given up the one or two afternoon cigarettes I used to enjoy. I kept a pack around just in case I got the urge, but seeing the way Duncan had died convinced me to end my vice.

I hadn't asked Joyce and Herman for the date Audrey would arrive. I mostly didn't want to know. I was trying to stay muted, numbed, unwilling to let even a moment of what used to be come to the surface. I couldn't help the regular 'what if' thoughts which bounced around my head from tempting me to play that game, but I generally resisted, not testing the wall I'd built up around my feelings for Audrey.

She stepped out of the cab dressed for the heat. A thin, light-yellow, florally sun dress came down to her tanned, shapely calves, sandals on her feet, a small white purse tucked under one arm. Herman and Joyce came out to meet her and I looked away, not wanting to take in any more. Something tried to stir deep inside me, but I downed the rest of my scotch and fixed my eyes on the words on the pages, slightly blurred, in my lap.

After a while, I heard their front door close but I didn't look up. Instead, I decided to head inside, pour another scotch, and pass out on the couch.

A knock on the door woke me from what had been an uneasy nap. My head ached dully and my body felt deflated. I'd had one too many drinks in the heat, and I knew it. I downed a couple of acetaminophen on my way to the door. Peering through the eyehole, I saw Joyce standing there.

"Darren, so good to see you today," she said as her arms closed around me in her typical greeting hug. "You feeling okay?"

I shook my head and said, "Just got a bit too hot today. Was napping until..."

"Until I woke you," Joyce jumped in, "Oh, Darren, I've interrupted you there. Sorry about that. I've come over to invite you to have dinner with us. I know your girls are gone and Audrey has just come in a while ago. We'd love for you to come over..."

I shook my head again, and raised my hand to emphasize my words, "Not tonight, Joyce. Thank you, I appreciate the offer, but not tonight..."

"Ah." Joyce watched me a moment and she probably knew it was more than my headache keeping me from joining them. "Well, we'll be up for a few hours if you change your mind. Just come on over."

"Thanks," I told her as politely as my head would allow and then closed the door behind her when she left.

Having Audrey next door was going to be very difficult. I didn't want to be an asshole to Joyce and Herman. I was a regular guest in their house, at least up until Audrey and I had our fling. I just couldn't put myself in a position to see Audrey regularly. I just couldn't. I'd be her friend, whatever that would mean, but seeing her daily was out of the question.

Fling. It was a word I hated as soon as it popped into my head. From the outside, how could it have been anything else? But it was a word loaded with baggage. Cheap. Easy. Convenient. Pointless. The phrase just a fling was thrown around to encompass those things. Nowhere did it spell out love or deep connections or all the million other ways the relationship I'd had with Audrey had not been a fling. And yet, that was the word I used, talking to myself, to describe those intense spare weeks.

Audrey sent me a text message that evening, letting me know she'd gotten in. I replied "Glad you made it safe. I hope you like living here." Nothing more, and she didn't respond.

- - -

The next time I saw or spoke to Audrey was four weeks after she'd arrived. I'd avoided any chance of seeing her, turning down dinner invitations and not returning the two texts Audrey had sent simply asking if I would like to come over. I just couldn't let myself be tempted.

I'd walked down to a deli I liked in one of the small strip malls near my house. I'd gotten my usual reuben and a pickle, sitting inside with the cold air conditioning. The door opened, and I stared as Audrey stepped inside. She wore slick aviator-style sunglasses, a grey tank-top, and cutoff blue jean shorts. She looked older than I'd remembered. It had really only been a few weeks since I'd last taken notice of her, but over that time the young woman had filled out a bit, perhaps put on a touch of weight. Her tank-top showed her growing breasts, enough so as to leave tantalizing cleavage for all to view.

I said nothing, and at first, she didn't see me even as she slid her sunglasses up past her forehead and stepped through the door. I glanced briefly as she walked to the counter and placed her order. A reuben with a pickle, same as my lunch. I decided I couldn't simply ignore that the young woman I still loved was in the same room. "Audrey," I called out just above the drone of the AC.

She turned and saw me. For a long second, maybe two, she just watched me, her eyes on mine. It was still there. In her eyes, I could see it. The same feelings I'd buried were trying to burst out. Goddamn this is hard!

"Hey," she replied, taking a few steps in my direction. She looked so fucking beautiful.

"Want to sit with me?" I offered tentatively.

"Y-yeah. Sure."

Audrey sat down and held her order ticket in her hand, not quite looking at me but not far from doing so, either. I broke the ice. "How have you been?"

"Alright, yeah. Alright. You?" she asked. I could feel the table rocking slightly from where she was nervously kicking her legs underneath. The order ticket rattled as her fingers sought motion.

"Doing okay." A pause, then I asked, "How's your mom?"

"She's good," Audrey replied without much enthusiasm. "She's been in Japan a few weeks now. It's taking her some time to adjust. I miss her a lot."

"Yeah, I bet." Her number was called and she went up to the counter, returning a moment later with her sandwich and pickle.

I didn't really know where to go with the conversation, so I said nothing as she started to eat. Audrey paused halfway through and said, "I start practice next week. They're going to let me play on the baseball team. I didn't really expect that."

"Wonderful," I said, shuffling around the remaining half of my sandwich but not eating more, "I bet they are thrilled to get you."

"Yeah," Audrey exhaled, "but I won't be playing shortstop, it seems. Maybe second or third. We'll see..."

More silence. And then more.

Audrey finished her meal, looking down at the table sadly, then she looked into my eyes. I could see she was nearly in tears. Her voice cracked and was almost a whimper, her words drawn out carefully, "This is so hard, Darren..."

"I know," I answered, my voice doing little better.

Her words came out in a rush. "I want you. I want you so bad it hurts. I take back what I said before. I don't care if my heart is broken. I love you..."

I fought for a response. It was what I wanted. What I needed. I'd wanted Audrey to say those three words for so long.

And yet...

"I think," I said with deliberation that masked my inner turmoil, "that... for now... we have to keep things the way they are." A tear fell from Audrey's eye. "Not because I want that, but... but... because I think it's best for you. And for my daughters..." She didn't stop me but I could see the fight in her expression. "You're about to start a new school. New friends. New experiences. You've got a team to think about. And... and how would that work, Audrey? I'm scared to death that someone would find out. I'm scared to death of going to jail. Of losing you. Of losing my daughters. Someone finds out and the worst would happen."

Tears fell slowly from Audrey's face, but then she stiffened, trying to form some semblance of resolve. Her lips quivered and she wiped her cheeks with a napkin. Audrey nodded slowly a time or two, looking just past me. "You're right," she said softly, "I'm being selfish."

"No, it's just—"

"Darren, it's selfish of me to want this so much that you would have to risk going to jail. To risk your daughters. I'm sorry. I knew. I've known all this time that was possible, but I hoped," she said, wiping her face again, "I hoped maybe we could be safe. Not risk all that. But you're right. You are. It would be too easy for someone to find out. And I'd lose you. Gwen and Vic would lose you."

I took her hand and her other shot out to hold tight over where her fingers sought my own. "I love you, Audrey. Always and forever. That's never changed. But... I can't risk losing my daughters. And believe me, Audrey... Believe me... I love you so much I'm almost tempted to take the risk. I want to be with you, always... but..."

"But we can't. I know." Her eyes had dried a bit and she was trying to return herself to the relative calm she'd had when we started our conversation. Audrey took two deep breaths, and for just a few seconds I sank into her beautiful bright green eyes for the last time. "So... how do we do this, then? How do we move on?"

I shook my head. "I really don't know."

"I'll just stay away, I'll make it easier for us that way."

"I don't want that..."

"Neither do I!" Audrey proclaimed fiercely, "But what options are there, Darren? Every time I see you, I just... I just... I think I've handled this. I think I've moved on. But then I see you and it all comes rushing back in..."

I held her hand softly. "How about this... Once my girls are back in a couple of weeks, we can start doing some things together. With my girls or Herman and Joyce around. That way... we're less tempted to be alone, and maybe... maybe we'll figure out how to just be friends. You're going to be making new friends soon," the next words nearly killed me to say out loud, "and maybe you'll find someone else you'd like to spend time alone with..."

Audrey crossed her arms, starting to speak a couple of times, but said nothing a moment. When she spoke, it was with hollow defeat. "Maybe... I doubt it, though..."

I didn't doubt it. She was fifteen, soon to be sixteen. Romance was different at that age. Attraction. It was easy to fall in love, I believed. Easy to find someone you liked, whether or not they liked you back. Audrey was a gem, and not just to guys old enough to be her father. She stood out in a million ways, all of them positive. Boys at her school would be lining up to simply have a conversation with her. It made me feel sick to admit that to myself, but I knew it was true.

"I should probably go," she stated evenly, though she didn't immediately rise from her seat. It was almost as if she was giving me one last chance to tell her to stay. To ask her to be with me. To take her to my bed. To love her openly no matter what the risks.

I almost stopped her from leaving. But no words came out, and a minute later, I sat, alone, in the deli, staring at my half-eaten sandwich, with a sucking, hollow pain in my stomach, a pounding in my head, the only signs that Audrey had been so close to me that day. I knew I'd done the right thing for Audrey and me, and for my daughters, mostly for them, but that didn't make it feel like the right thing in that moment.

"You okay, pal?" The older woman behind the counter called out. I realized she and I were the only ones still inside. "Looked a bit rough over there."

"Fine," I replied automatically, my throat thick, "I'm fine."

She didn't reply, and I slowly got to my feet and started the long walk back to my house.

- - -

As much as could be so, things sort of returned to normal once Victoria and Gwendolyn returned. They were both deeply tanned. Gwen's muscle tone was astonishing. The dance school had been as much about fitness as learning techniques. She spun around a few times for me at the airport and I could see a confidence that was bursting forth in her movements. Gwen had always been an excellent dancer, and it seemed the recent training in Aruba had only solidified her abilities.

Vic looked older than before. Sure, it had only been about six weeks since I'd seen her, but she'd grown some, filled out more in her chest and hips. It was going to be much harder to pretend she was my little girl. She'd enjoyed her time staying with my sister, but it was clear she was ready to be home, much more so than her sister, who I think could have stayed in Aruba the rest of her life if the offer had been tendered.

School was to start just a week after they returned. We did some shopping for clothes, and I slipped back into the Dad role easily, harping reminders of owed chores and batting down requests to purchase too many unneeded things. Nixing outfits which I felt were a little too racy for teenage girls to wear to high school.

It was a surprise to see the changes in Gwen. There was a softness to her now. A deliberateness. Kindness, perhaps, that wasn't there in the Spring. I'd seen some signs of it when she'd been nice to her sister in Buffalo and the days after, but now, the little verbal barbs and silly teasing she used to pepper all conversations with were gone. She talked to Vic like a friend rather than someone to lightly torture. Almost as equals. I wondered how much that was because she was growing up, and how much was because she'd taken my words to heart about how Audrey acted mature beyond her years. When Gwen asked me what she could do to earn a car and a later curfew privilege for her upcoming sixteenth birthday, I felt like it was a sincere negotiation, not a spoiled me-first one like many we'd had before. I made her promise me some benchmarks in school, and that she would continue to pursue her dancing, not that that was hard for Gwen to swallow.

"What about dates?" Gwen asked me while her sister was in the shower.

"What about them?"

"There's a boy... I kinda like. Once I have a car, I want to go on dates..."

I thought it over a moment. She'd been showing her maturity in the ways I'd told her mattered, and it was now my turn to offer concessions. "You are allowed to date once you turn sixteen." I saw her eyes widen and her smile start to spread. "Here are my conditions: First, I want to know who you'll be with. A name and address and cell number."

"Okay..."

"Second, no school nights."

Gwen nodded.

"Third, your curfew is eleven PM, which means you are in the driveway, parked, where I can see you by that time, not leaving the place you were at by eleven."

"What if it is a late movie?"

"I'm open to exceptions if we discuss them ahead of time."

"Okay," she repeated.

"Fourth," I let out a breath, having a hard time admitting that it was time to make such a declaration, "I'd like you to go on birth control..."

"Really?" Gwen asked, her head tilted.

"Yes. You're going to be sixteen. Hell," I told my daughter, "I probably should have done that last year, right?" I was lightly fishing for knowledge I wasn't sure I really wanted.

Gwen shrugged. "I'm still a virgin, Dad. Trust me."

"I do trust you. But you won't be a virgin forever. You'll be out one night, and the mood will be right, and you'll not be a virgin when you come home."

"Jesus, Dad," Gwen said, but she didn't look away and didn't appear as embarrassed as she might have. Perhaps an adult conversation with my daughter was now within the realm of possibility.

"I'll get you an appointment soon and the doctor can discuss your options. It doesn't mean you shouldn't use condoms. You should. I'll buy you a pack, and when you need more, you can tell me or you can go to the health department. The pill or the shot only protect against pregnancy, not against disease and infections. Please, Gwen, if you promise me nothing else, promise me you will insist on your partners wearing condoms."

Gwen watched me a second, then said, "Of course. I promise. I know about that stuff."

"Good."

"Partners?"

"Huh?" I replied, not understanding.

"You're expecting me to have partners. Plural."

"I'm just using a term, Gwen. Not assuming or expecting anything. There's nothing wrong with having sex with more than one person. Not that I want you doing that at sixteen. I'm just saying this is important. Always use a condom. Even with your other birth control."

"Deal." Gwen leaned back in her chair. "Is that everything?"

"No," I replied. I took Gwen's hand and rubbed it a moment. "I'm also proud of you, Gwendolyn. I've noticed how you're much kinder to your sister than you used to be. I see how you do your chores without as much muttering and resistance. I know how hard you worked at the dance program. And I'm impressed by the maturity you're showing me when we talk. I just want you to know how proud I am."

Gwen smiled and her eyes actually looked happy to hear my words. "Thanks, Dad."

"What are you two conspiring to do to me?" Vic's voice called out from hallway a second before her head popped in the room.

"Nothing which will damage your healing leg, that's for sure," Gwen said with a grin.

"Good," Vic said, "because I just got a call from the softball coach. She's letting me try out for the JV team."

Victoria had never been much of a sports person. She'd played some tennis but never on a school team. She tended to dislike gym class. I cocked my head and asked, "You want to play softball?"

Vic nodded. "I think I might like it. I've been talking to Audrey and she's convinced me to give it a shot. She's going to help me practice."

"That's... that's great." I told myself it would get easier to hear her name over time. I wasn't sure if it was a lie, though. "So when are tryouts?"

"A month after school starts. I have a lot of work to do."

"Well, if I can help," I began.

"I'll help you," Gwen interrupted. "When I finish dance practice, I can help."

I smiled at my eldest daughter, then looked at my youngest. "Well, seems like you have a couple of coaches close by to get you up to speed."

Vic beamed. "Awesome."

She still had a small limp from her broken leg, but the doctor had cleared her to resume normal activities and I had encouraged Vic to start walking each day to get her muscles back in shape and to test out the motions. She announced, "I'm off for a walk."

"I'll go with you," Gwen told her, "I need to stretch out first, though."

"Deal."

The girls left me alone in the living room to ponder what this new dynamic was in our household. It didn't miss my attention that much of this was thanks to Audrey in one way or another. I smiled thinking about the teen. I wondered if she ever did the same thinking of me. It hurt to ponder long, so I flipped on the television and tried to lose myself in whatever nonsense was on the screen.