Forget About Sex

Amanda took Monday off after her brief and unfortunate marriage to David Tighe. Let everyone working in the Oak Park Forest Hills school district learn about her divorce from the high-school history chair before she faced them.

Besides, she needed to buy household essentials. The moving company couldn’t promise to deliver their things from David’s garage for weeks. 

The girls had returned from their Bermuda vacation with their father and his parents sunburned and exhausted. But Amanda insisted they go to school anyway. She had too much to do.

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What she accomplished that day amazed her. With an efficiency and determination that sometimes blesses those in emergency, she hurried through stores, honing in fast: we need this and this and this.

All the while, however, front and center in her mind was Walter. He phoned her while she was waiting for a mall parking space.

“I’ve rented a four bedroom house right on the lake. The twelfth through the twentieth.” He’d email her the website.

“Walter, you’re incredible. Swinging this on such short notice.”

“The schools in New York don’t end until the last week in June. Remember? So it’s off-season.”

“It sounds—better than I deserve. I mean, are you sure about this?”

“Amanda, I’m sure about every action I’ve ever taken. You know that.”

She laughed as the dark sedan she’d waited for finally backed out, wheels squealing. “You’re saving my life—again.”

“Let me get the house set up for three young ladies, first. I’ll make your plane reservations for the thirteenth and pick you up in Albany.”

Amanda pulled into the parking space, turned off the ignition, and closed her eyes. “Walter—”

“Sweetheart, that’s what fathers are for.”

He had always called her “honey,” not “sweetheart. “Father and daughter,” Amanda said, hearing the faintest anxiety ripple through her voice.

“No illusions between us, Amanda. We’ve agreed—father and daughter are who we are.  Who we’ll always be.”

“Are you worried? About me wishing too much?”

“I wasn’t,” Walter said. “But now I need your word.”

“Am I such a tease?” she spoke without thinking and immediately regretted it to the root of her every fiber. “Walter, forgive me for saying that. Please. You have my word. You always have my word. Of course. I love you as my father.”

“Are you doing all right, honey? Did Evie and DeeDee get back last night?”

“Yes and yes. I took today off to get stuff in order.”

“Your office told me. I’ll talk to you soon, sweet girl.”

When she retrieved Evie and DeeDee from their after-school programs, homemade minestrone was simmering on the stove, all utilities restored. She’d bought new lamps and little desks and chairs, new pillows, thermal sleeping bags, and a few new sets of clothing for each, since their suitcases contained only beach and travel.

With Evie and DeeDee chattering in the backseat about their day, Amanda relaxed. They’d keep her from dreaming about Walter. With all of them in one house? Amanda would have no choice but to control herself. Besides, she had always acted old-school ladylike. If she had jumped on Walter when she was a child, well, she was a child then. Amanda should have more confidence. Truth was, she could now claim as much self-control as anyone, even Walter.

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