My Girls

Taboo
2006-08-17

It was one of the best summers I could remember for a long time. Even though it was at the expense of her "car accident", we had Victoria home with us for almost three weeks (she still had some "lingering pain" after two weeks!). The issue of the SUV accident was finally behind us. I had worried about that for a long time, without telling anyone. Three men hurt one of Victoria's babies, and two days later, they were dead? Too convenient. Not that I blamed her. I would have done it if she had not. She is probably better at it. However, we will never know now. Sure as little fishies, she isn't going to tell me, if she does not even tell me whom she works for.
Even though Victoria and I had always been close, and had what I would call an ideal marriage, we had grown even closer in the last several months. Even though I had always known it, I was now completely confident that she would do anything for her family. She would always be there when she was really needed and it counted. It was crystal clear, even more so than before, that we were everything to her, the most important thing in her life. I had learned that we could be that, and she could still do her job. The two were not incompatible.

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   I had also put aside the irritation I always felt about her job. She just couldn't tell me, and that was it. Not wouldn't - couldn't. She vowed not to lie to me anymore about anything. If she could not answer, she would just say she could not talk about it, and I vowed I would not pursue it anymore when she said that. I was touched the night she expressed to me how badly she had felt, even not being able to sleep at night, every time she lied to me. I think we loved each other more than we ever had, and that was saying a lot.
Cindi was getting better every day. She was getting more confident, although she was still leery about boys. I think that will continue until she falls in love with one, and finds out they are not all jerks. Probably someone a little older than her, more mature, more sensitive. That is what attracted her to me. One thing I am both happy and sad about - we are slowly phasing out our sexual relationship. Not deliberately, it just doesn't happen as often anymore; it isn't needed as much by her as it once was. We still get together occasionally and we still enjoy it tremendously, but it appears she really did just need it to get her over her bad memories.

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   It just took much more than the one time she planned. I miss her that way - but we have also found that we are so close and love each other so much that just cuddling together on the couch or snuggling in bed is almost as good as sex. I have never been deprived, at least in quality if not in quantity, by my sex life with Victoria. Horniness or deprivation was never the reason for my actions with Cindi, but love and a desperate need on her part. In addition, it is doing wonders for the lingering guilty feeling I have always had. We have made no plans to stop completely, and may never, but it may also just stop all of its own accord. I think Cindi recognizes she is just not ready for a recurrent sexual relationship with anybody - she has come to agree with me that she is just too young.
I had always been a little closer to Amy that Cindi - no, that's not quite right. I was closer in a different way. That is still true, because as Cindi and I have gotten closer this summer, so have Amy and I. I have an even more profound respect and admiration for Amy since her performance during the episode with the cops. There is nothing like someone saving your life to make you trust them completely. Amy has a maturity, understanding, and wisdom well beyond her years, that Victoria, Cindi and I have come to trust explicitly. Yet she still maintains her ability to be a cute, giggly, wiggly 13 year old. She flicks back and forth like flipping a switch when it is needed, and it is obvious immediately when she changes hats.

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   Her capacity to read and understand a situation, adapt to it, and read other peoples emotions and parts in it is uncanny. I sometimes wonder if she can read minds. But then, I decide she can't, or there are times I would be in big trouble!
Both the girls and I still enjoy immensely snuggling together in bed at night. Except for the occasional trysts with Cindi, there is little sexual content there, although there are times I wonder about Amy, but if it is there, neither of us dares to act on it. Somehow, the girls have concocted some kind of system of who is going to snuggle on what night. The nights that they both come in, it is obviously deliberate. There is no hiding of it as if it was wrong - they do it just as often when Victoria is around as not.
The girls are really heavily into cheerleading now, so that means, even more than before, constant presence of cute 13-14 year olds around all the time. They are all enjoyable - the one I enjoy the presence of most is Katie. She is almost as sweet as my girls are. Probably is as sweet, but I always give my girls the first place. She is around quite often, even staying overnight on a regular basis. She and her mother just do not have that much in common, and her mother has five other younger kids to raise, so it isn't really minded that much if she isn't around at home. Although Cindi and Amy are not all that close to her, she really likes Victoria and me, and the feeling is mutual. When I stay up late at night, and she is staying over, she will often come downstairs and snuggle up to me on the couch, or lie on the couch with her head in my lap, and watch TV.

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   Or we will stay up for hours, just talking about anything and everything. Many nights she falls asleep with her head on my lap and I carry her into the spare bedroom to put her in bed. She and the girls are very good about somehow scheduling the time so that there is never a conflict with Katie when Amy or Cindi wants to cuddle or talk. I have never understood how females do that, seemingly without ever talking about it. She hasn't quite gotten to the point of talking about her father yet. The poor girl has been hurt very badly, and since she does not talk about that or her father, I sense they are related. I see some of the same signs in her as what Cindi went through. I hope I am wrong.
One interesting situation occurred over the summer with Amy that I found nerve wracking at the time it occurred about midway through the summer. The cheerleaders decided to host a get-together for all the girls and guys they knew, kind of like an informal party and dance. We really do not let Cindi or Amy formally date yet, but if it is an informal group with chaperones, etc, we will let them go. This one was not at our house, but was hosted at Laura's house, one of the 15-year-old cheerleaders. We debated on letting the girls go, since Laura's parents are not the best chaperones in the world, but we finally figured there would be enough other people there that it should be ok. They're not bad, just not as watchful sometimes as we are about the things teenagers will always try to get away with. We were not worried about our girls - just the idea they could be caught up in something if anything went wrong.

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   Amy was excited about going; Cindi made it clear that she would not be there, for exactly the reasons we had questioned, and because she just was not ready for that much contact with boys yet. She decided to go to Elizabeth's house for the night, where a bunch of girls were gathering whose parents wouldn't let them go to the other gathering.
Amy had an 11:00 PM curfew time to be home. At 11:00 PM, the doorbell rang. Thinking Amy had forgotten her key, I answered the door to find Amy, drunk as a skunk, being held up by Cindi and Elizabeth's college age sister. Cindi quickly asked me to hear out what happened before I got mad and grounded Amy until her 40th birthday. They helped me get her in, and I laid her down on the couch and turned around to hear from the two girls why I should let her live! As I calmed down, I remembered that Amy never drank, did not like the taste of the stuff, so I knew there was some kind of story here. It turns out that someone had spiked one of the bowls of punch, and Amy did not know it. Amy loves punch. By the time anyone figured out what was going on, she could not walk by herself. It would be hard to tell if Amy is drunk till she starts losing motor control, since she's so outgoing in a group and acts drunk half the time anyway. Finally, someone called Cindi pick her up, since nobody dared to bring her home. Cindi said she would stay to take care of her, but I told her to go back to Elizabeth's house. There was no sense in ruining her night; I would take care of Amy.
The first thing I noticed was that she stunk! Sorry, Amy, but it's true.

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   She or someone had spilled various drinks on her clothes, and, yuck, she had also apparently thrown up at least once and did not have her head in the ideal position, if you get my drift. Do you know what happens when you throw up in a toilet bowl with long hair? Sorry, maybe too graphic, huh? I decided the first thing was to get her cleaned up. It was too much for a washcloth and sink - it was in her hair and everything. In the shower you go, little girl. Since she was too unstable to go in alone, it looked like she was going to take a shower with Dad.
A drunk Amy loses all the maturity that people are so impressed with her about and just becomes a constantly giggling 13 year old that says and does bizarre things. Moreover, much to my consternation, she becomes much more interested in sexually oriented subjects. Can you tell this is an embarrassed father trying to talk about his daughter? She found it great fun, as I was holding her up and washing her, to play with the hair on my chest. Of course, this was hilariously funny and necessitated much giggling. Sigh. Then she discovered that if she ran her soapy fingers over my nipples, they would get hard, just like hers. Giggle, giggle, giggle. Lord, give me patience. Good thing I love this girl. Then, did you know that if you kiss Daddy, when he is not expecting it, you can stick your tongue in his mouth and he gasps in shock? That deserved a full fledge laugh.

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   It also rated a slap on the butt for her by me, and a retaliatory turning off the hot water for a few seconds. Little drunk Amys shriek very loud in a cold shower. Hee hee. Then came the worst of all - she discovered that Daddy has a cock and balls (giggle, giggle), that (gasp) gets really big when it gets hard (she's never seen one before, so what does she know about big), as it does really quickly when you put cute soft little Amy hands on his cock and balls and rub them (yep, you guessed it - giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle etc. ). I could not believe this! Sweet, innocent little Amy? I was going to have nightmares about this for years to come. I had to get her out of here quick, but it takes time to wash her long hair when she has vomit in it. I slapped her hands and told her to behave. Oh boy, telling a drunk Amy she can't have something she thinks is fun to play with. Not good even when she is sober, useless when she is drunk. Victoria! There are times when I hate your job! This should be you doing this.
I finally got her out. Then we had more fun. Drying off a drunk Amy. Oh goody! Since I am drying off her hair and upper body with both my hands, well of course that means she can play with Daddy's privates again, since he has no hands to stop her, right? That's the way things go in Amy's (drunk) world.

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   Then, when I moved my hands down to her lower body to dry her, that means if you are Amy you are free to throw your hands around Daddy's neck and try that tongue kissing thing again. Finally, I said the hell with drying her, she can just sleep on wet sheets, so I picked her up and carried her into bed, laid her down, covered her up, kissed her cheek, moving fast before she decided to do the tongue thing again, and started to leave the room.
"Daddy? Would you sleep with me? I want to cuddle, I can't go to sleep. "
Damn. How do you know? You have only tried for 7 seconds! Did I say she was my favorite? I think she just slipped two points below the jerk, cop #1! Just kidding.
I crawled into bed and snuggled up behind her, with my arm around her waist. Go to sleep, Amy.
Then, after a few minutes, she started crying.
"Amy, what's wrong?"
"Why did they do all those awful things to Cindi, Daddy? It was terrible. And she saved me, Daddy. She let them do it to save me. Why did she do that, Daddy? It wasn't fair. She is so sweet and never was mean to anyone and they made her do those awful things, and it hurt her so much. And it was all because of me. I tease her all the time and called her a bitch when she was hurting so bad and I did not even know she sucked cocks to save me.

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   How can I ever make that up to her?" she sobbed.
"Amy, honey, did you watch that movie when you found it?"
"Y. . . y. . . yes. Please don't be mad at me. " Damn. Why did I forget about that thing? I wish I had remembered to throw it out like I meant to.
"Honey, she did those things because she loves you. I think you would have done the same for her if you had to. They did it because they were bad boys. And they paid the price for it.

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   You make it up to Cindi by loving her, and being nice to her, just as you always do. Honey, Cindi likes your teasing, just as we all do. Her fun is in not letting you know that. "
"Daddy, will you make love to me tonight?"
"No, honey, I won't. You're drunk, and you don't know what you are asking. "
"Daddy, did Mommy kill those boys, because they hurt one of her babies?"
Before I could answer, I heard her snoring gently. "I don't know, Amy" I lied, whispering, and got up and went into the living room.
The next day was Saturday, so, fortunately, Amy could sleep late. She slept so late that she missed cheerleader practice for the first time in her life. Cindi went anyway. She woke up a little after noon, and came looking for me. Since I had given up on drying her off, she had slept in wet hair, and it was frightful looking, sticking out everywhere. When she came into the room, I took one look at her, and screamed "Monster, Monster!" and jumped behind the couch, peering out around the edge. She did not think it was funny at all. She gave me a dirty look and said "Very funny, DAD!"
I asked her how she was feeling.

 

   I will not repeat her answer. Amazing how she can give a non-repeatable answer and not say a single bad word. Then she climbed up into my lap, and hid her face in my shirt.
"I'm so sorry, Daddy. I'm so embarrassed. "
"You didn't know the punch was spiked, honey. "
"I don't mean for that. I mean for last night in the shower, and in bed. " She was red now. "I'm sorry for the things I said and did, Daddy".
"It's ok, sweetie. Everybody does embarrassing things when they are drunk. Remember that. "
She hid her head in my neck, looking the other way in acute embarrassment.
"Daddy, did I really ask you to make love to me last night?" She whispered softly.

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I moved her head, holding it between my hands, and made her look at me.
"Amy, you and your Mom are the two most beautiful women I know. If I were 20 years younger and not your dad, I would have been proud last night to be the first one to make love to you. Make that just not being your Dad. I wouldn't care about the age difference. "
I must have said something right, because she just beamed, lighting up the whole room. Then the true Amy came back. She grinned at me.
"Who said you would have been my first?"
Brat! She said it just as I was drinking, and I spit my drink all over the place. She laughed hysterically.
"You are just too easy!" I tickled her until her head hurt. Serves her right. Suddenly I was embarrassed. That does not happen often with me.
"Would I.

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  . . would I have been your first?" I asked quietly. Why are you asking this? Do you really want to know?
She looked at me shyly for a second, then reached out and touched my cheek softly. "Poor Daddy. Its hard being a parent, isn't it? Especially to a smart-assed, genius kid like me. " She smiled at me sweetly. "You know me, Daddy. You already know the answer to that. Yes, it is the answer you are hoping for. But thank you for asking. I love you, Daddy. "
Of course, my little smart-assed genius kid always has to have the last laugh. She grinned impishly.
"But, of course, the day is yet young! And you may not know me as well as you think you do!" Snot.

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   I tickled her until she cried for mercy.
Amy spent the entire day cuddled on the couch with me. Snuggling, or lying with her head on my lap, dozing. Just about every position she could think of to try to get comfortable. It was a nice day. I bet she has learned her lesson about drinking. Poor little thing. It was a wonderful day, one of the best I'd had. She did get sick one more time during the day. You do not realize how much you love someone, or how much he or she trusts and loves you, until you hold their head, holding their hair out of the way, while they puke their guts out. Afterwards, she lay on my lap, sighing contentedly and dozing as I softly rubbed her stomach, then her temples, trying to make her feel better. The smiles she lit up the room with as I stroked her were well worth holding her head while she puked. I did not even ask what the impish little grin was about. I did not think I wanted to know! I wondered if it had anything to do with the soft, gentle trailing of my fingertips up the inside of her leg. Once.

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   I did not dare do it again. Amy slept with me that night. I don't think either of us moved or stopped cuddling all night long.
Sunday, Amy stayed home from practice again. When Cindi told me she was going alone again, I went in to check on Amy again. She said she still felt "yucky". I love these scientific terms, just loaded with hard data that makes it all clear what she means. She threw up again, and seemed to have a mild fever, and felt weak all over. Hmm. Seemed to be more than a hangover. Monday I offered to stay home with her, as she was still sick; had a sore throat now, too, but she said to go on, she would be fine. I called her several times during the day; she said she was ok, but it wasn't the perky Amy I normally talk to. I called her just before I left for home, but she did not answer. Asleep, I guess.
When I got home, I went to see how she was, not wanting to call out and disturb her if she was asleep.

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   I found her on her bed, lying on her back, she and the bed soaked in sweat. She was tossing fitfully in her sleep, mumbling incoherently. I went in and touched her forehead. She was burning up. I thought I would change her out of her sweaty nightclothes; see if I could make her more comfortable. When I unbuttoned her top, and opened it up to take it off, I saw the red rash on her chest and stomach, and my blood ran cold. I checked her pulse - rapid and thready. Respiration shallow. This was not good. I quickly got a cold washrag and put it on her forehead, then went into the living room and dialed the emergency room at the hospital. Because they knew who I am, I would get better service by calling the ED rather than 911. When they answered the emergency line, I identified myself.
"I need an ambulance immediately, this is a medical emergency. I have a case of suspected severe systemic septicemia. Please hurry.

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  " I gave them my address; they said one would be there in less than five minutes and they would notify the doctors that we were coming in.
I then called Rebecca's house, and asked her mom to take Cindi over to her house when she picked her and Rebecca up after practice. I would call her later. She could tell by my voice that something was wrong, but she could also tell that now was not the time to ask.
Almost immediately after I hung up, the ambulance arrived. The paramedics looked at her, stuck a thermometer in her mouth, started an IV, and moved her to the ambulance. We were at the hospital in five minutes.
Hospital emergency rooms are not designed for the comfort of visitors. They are designed for treating patients. They are variably effective at that. However, they are really designed to treat critically ill patients, and when that patient is a particularly well liked child of a staff member, they excel beyond all expectations. They wheeled her in, checked her vital signs, and immediately carted her off to MICU. I did not even know she had gone upstairs, until I was finished talking to the ER staff.
"Can I see her now?" I asked.
"I'm sorry; she has been moved to MICU already.

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  " She gave me the doctor's name.
When I got up to the ICU, I looked up the doctor.
"How is she?"
"We will know better once we have some test results back. We started her on some wide spectrum antibiotics and some medicines to try to stabilize her heartbeat, blood pressure and respiration, and are trying to bring her fever down a little. She's a very sick girl. " I asked to see her chart He showed me what they had so far, and I'm sure my face must have turned pale.
"Are you all right?"
"Can I see her?"
"Yes. Try to stay out of the way. I can't guarantee she will know you are there, though. "
I went in to see her. She looked awful. She had IV's in both arms, monitors hooked up everywhere, and I could tell they would soon be putting her on a ventilator. I went over to her bed, took her hand, and held it.
She squeezed my hand! I bent down, and kissed her forehead, and she opened her eyes.
"Hi Daddy," she said weakly.

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   "I'm sorry I am so much trouble and scared you. You know me, I will do anything for attention and to get out of school, "she teased.
"Bah! You'll have to try harder than that to get my attention," I said bravely. "A little touch of the flu, you'll be back home tomorrow. "
"Liar," she whispered. "Have you called Mommy yet? You had better get her here. Cindi too. " The nurse appeared and said she needed to put the ventilator mask on. "I love you, Daddy," she breathed.
"I love you too, Sweetie", I said, and left the room.
I went out into the waiting room, and then went to the nursing station. I asked to use a phone. One of the nurses, looked up, recognized me, took one look at my face, and led me to the nurses' private room. She asked the two nurses in there to please go use the conference room, set a phone in front of me, told me to buzz her if I needed anything, and left, shutting the door. I put my head down, wiped a few tears out of my eyes, and made a phone call.

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   Then I called She said happily. "This is a pleasant surprise! How are you?"
"Ok. "
Pause. "What's wrong?" she asked concern in her voice.
"Amy's sick"
"Is she ok?"
"Victoria, you need to come home right now. Immediately. "
She did not ask unnecessary questions. "I don't know how soon I can get a flight out of here. "
"Don't worry about that. Where are you?" She told me where she was staying. Good. Right where I thought she would be. I already knew, without looking that up, where the nearest base was.
"There is a helicopter waiting at the hospital across the street from you. Go to the Emergency room, and ask for the director.

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   Identify yourself. They will fly you to the base outside town. When you get there, identify yourself to Captain Jensen. He will meet you at the pad. They have a jet waiting for you. Do not bring any luggage with you; there will not be room for anything else. There will be a helicopter waiting at the Base here for you, to bring you to the hospital. Oh, and Victoria, if you have eaten, better ask for an airsick bag if you get sick on high speed military jets. "
"Honey - what's going on? You're scaring me. " The tremor in her voice verified that.
"Just get here, Victoria. Get going now. We will talk when you get here," I said, my voice breaking.
"Bye. I love you," she said, and hung up.

 

  
Next, I called Rebecca's house. Cindi answered the phone on the first ring.
"Daddy" she said, as soon as she knew it was me. "What's wrong with Amy? She is not home, and you are not home. She's sick and in the hospital, isn't she?" She sounded really upset.
"Cindi, how do you know Amy is sick and in the hospital?"
"I can just feel it. Rebecca's mom will drive me down there. Amy wants to see me and I want to see her, too". She sounded like she would be crying any minute.
"Honey, why don't you get a good night's sleep, and I will pick you up in the morning and bring you down here to see her".
"No! I am coming tonight. Daddy, she's not ok," she whispered. "I'll be there as soon as I can," she said and she hung up. I sat there listening to a dial tone. What a strange conversation.

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I went in and checked on Amy again. She squeezed my hand when I held hers, but could not talk well because of the ventilator. She looked scared. I squeezed her hand and told her I loved her. She smiled and looked a little better. I just sat there with her for about an hour, holding her hand and talking to her. About an hour and a half after I talked to Victoria, I heard what sounded like a sonic boom. Amy opened her eyes and looked up at me. Victoria's here, I thought.
"That's Mommy. She'll be here in a few minutes. " Amy smiled and mouthed thank you. I told her Cindi should be here shortly, too. She smiled more at that.
About 15 minutes later, I saw Victoria and Cindi walk into the ICU.

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   They had apparently seen each other in the lobby as they walked in. I went out to meet them. A nurse was moving to intercept them, probably to tell Victoria that Cindi could not come in to visit - there were minimum age restrictions in the ICU. She was a new nurse that did not know any of us. I walked up to her to try to head off a scene. I really did not want someone telling Victoria she could not bring Cindi in. The way Cindi looked, I was not sure who would explode first.
"It's ok. She can come in. She's her twin sister. "
"I'm sorry, but. . . "
"We're going in", I interrupted her. "Go get the hospital administrator.

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   If he wants to throw her out, tell him to come see me. " We turned around and walked towards Amy's room. Victoria looked at me with a strange look on her face.
"I've never been in an F-15, flying on afterburners across the country before. In flight refueling is a little scary".
I ignored her, and took them in to see Amy. They ran up to her, and hugged and kissed. Cindi looked briefly shocked at how Amy looked, and then she blanked her facial expression. The nurse said she would take off the ventilator mask for a while, and put a nose clip on instead.
Amy smiled weakly at Cindi.
"It's ok, I know I look terrible. "
They all hugged, cried and kissed for a while, and then the doctor and nurse came in.
"I have the test results. Let's go somewhere where we can talk. "
"No.

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   I want to hear what you have to say," Amy said.
"I'm staying too," said Cindi. The doctor looked at Victoria and I, and we just shrugged. We were going to tell them what he said, anyway.
"And tell it to me straight; I don't want any BS. I understand your jargon," Amy stated emphatically.
"Ok", he sighed. "Your daughter is a very critically ill girl. She has a systemic infection throughout her whole body. So far, the antibiotics have not made much headway. It may be viral, in which case the antibiotics are not going to do any good anyway. There are signs the infection may be starting to affect many of her organs. Her blood pressure is beginning to fluctuate, her urine output is dropping, and her liver enzymes are showing a mild increase, along with her heart enzymes. If we cannot get it under control, her organs will begin to shut down. We will know more in the next 12 hours.

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   We can do little else. If we don't get some improvement in the next 12 hours, the chances of survival are not good. "
Well, she wanted it straight. Cindi and Victoria look like they were in shock. I was marginally better, but only because I knew this was what I was going to hear. Amy, surprisingly, looked calmer than she was before.
"What is causing this?" Victoria asked.
"About one in a million times, a relatively harmless virus, influenza or a cold virus, something like that, suddenly goes out of control. We don't know why it happens. " As we talked, Amy seemed to drift off to sleep. I looked at the monitors and realized she was probably unconscious. I could see the nurse and doctor recognized it too.
"That's it?" Cindi finally exploded. "All this modern medicine and drugs, and you're telling us that you can't do anything and unless something changes all by itself, she is going to die?" She was yelling now, tears pouring down her face. "That's it?"
"I'm sorry," he said.

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"Sorry, my ass! If you cannot do anything, then get the fuck out of here! Both of you! GET OUT! NOW!" she screamed.
"Cindi!" I started. Victoria tried to hug her, but she refused to be held. She just looked at the doctor and nurse, and pointed her finger at the door. They stood there, stunned, and when they didn't move, she shoved them towards the door. "GET OUT!" she screamed again.
"I think maybe we should leave for awhile. We will be back later. " They headed for the door.
Victoria and I stood there, in shock. At Amy's prognosis. At Cindi's outburst. At everything. We were openly crying ourselves. Amy was fortunately oblivious to it all.

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Cindi walked over to us, and held our hands in hers.
"Mom? Dad? Do you love me?" she whispered.
.
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