Chapter 11
It was driving her crazy.
Little things, mostly. Things she couldn't even mention to him, because they would sound so silly, so feminine in the worst sense of the word.
He seemed lost most of the time, as though his mind were somewhere else.
He was preoccupied when she was around, seldom mentioning some new nightie, or a sexy piece of lingerie, the kind of thing that had pleased him so much before.
When he kissed her good-bye in the morning, or hello in the afternoon, it was different. A fatherly kiss. His hands were more reticent in touching her, and there was a different sound in his voice.
When they did make love, he seemed embarrassed, as though he had just become aware that they were committing a forbidden act of incest.
There were other little things, intangibles she couldn't bring up verbally, because he would simply have denied their existence.
And, of couse, there was the main thing: they were sleeping in their own rooms, with only visits between them. But now all the visits were made by her. He never turned her away, though she had the feeling that he let her share his bed and the pleasures of his body out of a sense of duty, as though he only fucked her because she was so horny, and he owed it to her. Or as though he knew, or sensed, that she was going through a bad time emotionally and he didn't want her to crash.
After the incident with Ron, and the hint she had managed to wrest from him that he had amputated without a medical justification, and perhaps had even arranged the "accident" in the first place, her mind was put at ease for a while. And then, when she began to be concerned, the confusion still filled her brain for a while, until finally, after weeks of the bad signals she was getting, and several nights when he went out to make house calls without telling her where he would be, Karen's mind went scampering back....
Back to the night of the dance, when he had disappeared so mysteriously, and had had such a lame explanation when she had asked him about it that night. She had been so upset about her own peccadillo that night, and so shocked that he hadn't seemed to care about it, that she didn't notice the lameness of his answer. But now, it came back to her, and with it another recollection.
Linda Davis had disappeared that night, too. At the same time as Daddy, apparently. And Karen hadn't seen either of them again until she had come home. That night had marked the beginning of the deterioration of their relationship: his lack of interest in her actions, his willingness to let her go off with kids her own age, which he had never approved of before, the kind of head-patting joviality with which he had greeted her news about getting into the car with Ron Baker.
And that night, after he had come home so late, she had had some difficulty, for the first time in her life, in getting his prick to stand up. As though he had been putting it into some other woman ... The thought haunted her from the moment it first occurred to her. It was never far from her mind.
Linda Davis. The beautiful, charming Mrs. Davis, who had shown such an interest in Daddy. Karen had been so sure that the interest would never be returned, that she had a lock on Daddy's affections. Oh, God, she had been so smug about it!
She clung for life to the thing he had done to Ron, and the tacit admission she had won from him that there had been no medical justification for a double amputation. But even that didn't really prove anything, not that she could believe in anything for certain. She and Daddy had been so close, for so long, that it could simply have been a visceral reaction on his part, something he had done to protect her from a threat. It didn't prove I that he was still in love with her.
The thought began to haunt her more and more. Did she really know for certain that he had done it without a medical reason? He hadn't said so to her in plain language. It was possible that the arm and the leg had been crushed beyond repair, and she had misread the whole thing.
It was on a Wednesday that she got her first concrete proof of what was going on between Daddy and Mrs. Davis. She came home from school early and started working at the desk by two o'clock rather than three, as she usually did. The phone rang a moment later, and Karen picked it up and said, "Doctor Arthur's office," in her pleasant, business-like voice.
"Karen?" It was Mrs. Davis. At the sound of her voice, something rose up along Karen's neck.
"I'd like to speak to your father, please." Karen felt an instant impulse to tell her that Daddy was out, or too busy to talk, but she thought better of it. It wouldn't do any good. She'd only call back another time. And Karen decided that she wanted to hear the conversation. She rang through to Daddy's office and left the line open.
"Doctor Arthur." Daddy's voice came through crisp and strong, and it made Karen want to cry just to hear it. She loved him so much....
"Hi, lover," Mrs. Davis said. Her voice carried even more familiarity than the words she spoke, and Karen had to jam a fist between her teeth to keep from giving away her presence on the line. "I thought I'd give you a call, since you're so determined to break my pride. I thought you were going to call me."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Linda," Daddy said, his voice sounding a bit embarrassed. "I've been so busy here. Of course, I've wanted to call you, and I'm glad you called."
"Glad enough to spare me an evening?" Mrs. Davis sounded a little embarrassed at having to be so aggressive with a man, and Karen couldn't help feeling a little sorry for her. She knew how it was to be in love with Daddy. He had a way of drawing a girl into giving everything and settling for whatever he wanted to give in return. "I'm getting kind of lonesome. And horny," she said with a laugh that somehow managed to be mischievous and pathetic at the same time. "You know, if you're not careful, I'm just liable to go find some guy who'll know when he has a good thing going for him." There was a moment's silence on the line, and Karen could almost see Mrs. Davis' heart in her throat as she wondered if she had gone too far, said the wrong thing. But after a couple of seconds Daddy replied with his usual gallantry.
"I know when I have a good thing, honey. I could come over tonight about nine. I'm sorry; I just can't get away any sooner. I have to run some tests in the lab. And I don't know how long I'll be able to stay, either." He sounded almost as though he were trying to talk her out of the invitation. But there was no chance of that.
"Well, I guess I'll have to settle for that," Mrs. Davis said with a bright little edge to her voice. "I'll be ready and waiting."
All through the afternoon Karen went about her work without thinking. She was like a stunned person, in a state of shock from the phone conversation which had so clearly ratified her worst fears. She had the feeling that Daddy detected her emotional state, though he said nothing. By the time dinner was finished and the dishes were in the dishwasher, she knew she wasn't going to be able to make it through the evening without talking about it. She bit her lip and tightened the muscles of her throat, as though she could stop up the words before they spilled out, but she knew that it was going to come out of her, no matter what. She only hoped that by saying part of what she felt, and avoiding any particulars, she would be able to satisfy the urge without blowing things too badly.
At a quarter past seven she went upstairs and took a shower. Then she put on her best perfume, the French perfume Daddy had bought her for Christmas. She brushed her hair and put on fresh makeup, then went back to her room and put on the new nightie, which he had also bought her for Christmas. There was a matching peignoir, and she put that on, too; then she went back downstairs after checking herself carefully in the mirror. She knew she looked as good as she ever would, and she knew, without conceit, or even pride, that that was very good indeed.
Daddy was just putting on his coat. When he saw her he hesitated a moment, as though he could see through her and read her mind. Then he finished putting on his coat, buttoning it up the front and adjusting his muffler carefully.
"Are you going out?" Karen asked softly.
"I have to see a patient," he answered without looking at her. "I'll try not to be too late."
"All right." She stood before him, showing herself in the sexy peignoir, hoping that he would change his mind. For a moment she almost thought he was going to. But then he kissed her lightly on the cheek and started for the door. "Daddy." Something in her voice stopped him like a wall. He turned and faced her, and she could see the hardness in his face, that look she had always feared, because it meant that he was displeased, and determined not to give in. Before he could speak, she said, "Daddy, I love you more than you could know. I worship you." She gave him a chance to speak then, but he said nothing, and his face didn't change. "I'm not like other girls, Daddy. You've seen to that. You've made me ... different. I'm a freak, and I can never have the things that other girls take for granted. I don't mind that. But you can't take away what I do have. That's not fair. I won't live without it."
He looked at her for a long time, and several times she thought he was about to say something. But each time he changed his mind. Finally he said, "I don't know what you're talking about, Karen. I have to go now. I'll try to be back early, but don't wait up for me." He stood a moment longer; then he turned on his heel and left.
After the door had closed, a chill came over Karen, making her shudder.
She sat in the living room for a long time, just thinking about all of it. I don't know what you're talking about, Karen. It was as though they had never been any more than father and daughter, and she was only being a little silly and adolescent about his going out and laying another woman.
Was he planning to marry Linda Davis? Did he really think he could get away with something like that? Did he think he owned her to such an extent that he could throw her away like the wrapper off a pack of cigarettes?
That their relationship as it had existed before was over, she knew without a doubt now. Daddy was going out with other women, and that meant that he no longer looked to her as his sole emotional involvement.
He was ruthless and selfish, not letting anyone else have even a little part of her life, and she knew now that she had loved all of it. Even when he had made her drop out of the school play. That had been a humiliating experience, but he had done it to show her more clearly whom she belonged to, and it had made her feel even more secure. She had thought she hated it, but she had loved it, really.
And the whipping he had given her. He had cared about her enough to hurt her, the thing he loved most in the world. Even when the belt had cut her skin, and stung her, she had loved him for every biting lash.
And, of course, what he had done to Ron Baker, if it had been for her, was the biggest thing of all. She had thought that he loved her enough to destroy another human being just to keep her.
And now, I don't know what you're talking about, was all he could find to say to her.
She went into her room and looked at all the things he had given her since she had been a little girl. The things she had loved because they were from him. The dolls, and the little dime store phonograph she never played any more, because he had given her a better one when she had turned thirteen. Then she went into his room and stood there, feeling as reverent as though it were a church, or a temple for a god she had worshiped. She went to the bed and touched the spread with her fingertips, imagining that she could feel the warmth of him. Then she walked to the closet and opened it and felt his clothes, rubbing a sleeve against her cheek, the way she had done when she had been a little girl. She had always loved him so much....
She went back down to the living room and selected a stack of records very carefully, choosing all his favorites. She put them on the turntable, but didn't turn the player on. Then she made a pitcher of martinis, his favorite drink. She had learned to like them because he did. She mixed the drinks with great care. And then she waited for him.
He came home just after ten o'clock, which surprised her. She went to the kitchen and got out the pitcher of martinis, with the two glasses she had put in the freezer to frost up. She brought them into the living room on a silver tray, and turned on the stereo. When he came inside, after putting the car in the garage, the setting had been laid out to perfection.
He looked tired and drawn, as though he had been through something difficult, and she felt a pang of sadness for him. He was so handsome standing there in his overcoat and muffler, and she worshiped him so completely. He took off his coat and came down the hall into the living room, and she met him at the doorway. She rose on tiptoe, putting her arms around him and kissing him. He was a little stiff, but he kissed her back, and she felt grateful for that.
"What's all this?" he asked when he saw the martinis and heard the music. He was trying to sound jovial and relaxed, but there was a strained quality in his voice. Just this once more, she told him silently. And you won't have to pretend for me any more.
"I thought you'd like to relax a little before going to bed," she said with a smile. "Just like old times between us." She smiled softly, to let him know that she wasn't reproaching him as she had done earlier.
He smiled back and squeezed her hand tightly. Karen seated him in his favorite chair, then went upstairs and got his best robe. When she brought it down he had already taken off his jacket and tie. "Why don't you get more comfortable, Daddy?" she asked, and he rose and took off his shirt and pants and put on the robe over his shorts and T-shirt. Karen poured them each a cold martini as the stereo dropped a fresh record onto the turntable. How long would that record play? She wondered. Twenty minutes? Maybe just a little longer?
"Here's to the future," she said, raising her glass, and he raised his in reply.
"I'll drink to that."
They sipped their drinks together.
"Mmmm, that's just what I needed," Daddy said.
"Yes, it's just what we both needed." They drank again.
"Karen, I have to tell you something," Daddy said, looking straight at her, as he had done in the past.
"I don't think I want to hear it. It really doesn't matter, Daddy. Not any more. Not now."
"Yes, it does. And I want to tell you."
She looked down at the pink peignoir folded across her lap. "All right. If it will make you feel better." She wished he wouldn't tell her now. She wished that he would just leave her these few moments. But she had always wanted him to do as he wished, and she still did.
"I've been unfaithful to you," he said. The words made her gasp, because it wasn't the way she had expected him to say it. "I thought you had guessed, especially after what you said tonight. Believe me, I didn't want to leave you, honey. I told you I didn't know what you were talking about, but I did. I've been a prize bastard lately, and I know it. I've hurt you, and there's no forgiveness for that. In case you don't know, it was your teacher, Mrs. Davis. It was all her idea, if that's any consolation to you. And I went along with her because she reminded me of you. No excuse, of course." He started to raise his glass to his lips again.
"Daddy!" Her shout stopped him, and he looked at her with a puzzled expression. The glass was half-empty. "Nothing, Daddy," Karen said. "I'm sorry." She raised her own glass and drained it, and Daddy did the same.
"I guess I thought it wasn't going to hurt all that much. But then she started to get serious. She called me today and asked me to come over. I didn't want to, Princess. That's the truth. But I knew I had to see her just once more to tell her it was all over, and that there just couldn't be anything between us. I didn't like leaving you to go to another woman, Princess. And I'll never do it again."
"Oh, Jesus, Daddy!" It was too late. But not too late, really. He had told her in time. At least she had heard it and now she knew that he loved her as she had loved him. She rose from the couch and went to him and knelt in front of him. "Daddy, will you make love to me? Right now? Please?"
"Of course." He rose and took off his robe and his underwear, and Karen took off her peignoir and the nightie, laying them carefully on his chair, next to his things. Then she lay back on the floor and opened her thighs to him. He poised his body above her, then raised his hips and came down, shoving his prick into her clear to the root.
The poison she had put in the drinks was a gentle thing, almost undetectable. But it was fast. Karen could already feel it creeping through her veins, the lethargy, the pleasant tiredness, and the sleep that would cover them like a blanket. Then she looked up into his eyes and she knew he had felt it, too; with his knowledge, he had already guessed what she had done.
And she could see that he had forgiven her....