"Same thing with your mom and dad. Sometimes your mom did stuff that made your dad crazy, and sometimes it was the other way around. Most of the time, they loved each other enough to forgive the craziness, but after a while, they decided that they would rather love each other, and be divorced, than stay married and make each other crazy."
"Okay, I understand. Right after the divorce, I worried sometimes that maybe it was something I did, or that Leo and John were doing."
"Jan, don't ever think like that. You're a good person, and I can promise you that I've talked to your mom and dad enough to know that their divorce had absolutely nothing to do with your or your brothers – other than BOTH of them wanted to make sure that you were all happy, and knew that they both love you, and were taken care of properly."
"Thanks, Dan. I feel a lot better about it, now. Is it okay if I get on the computer again?"
"Sure, Trouble. The boys won't be home from the park for a while, and there's no reason you shouldn't."
When Paul got back from his trip, he and I were sitting on the patio having a beer when I told him that Jan had asked me some questions about sex and human anatomy. He wanted to know what I told her, and I explained to him what I'd done – without bothering him with the details of how the situation came up. He wasn't happy about being locked out of her Internet usage on the subject, but when I pointed out that if she thought he could watch, she wouldn't look at anything – and stay ignorant, and thus more likely to find herself in 'trouble'. That seemed to placate him, and he thanked me for not only helping her, but also letting him know what was going on. I suggested that he tell her that we'd talked, and that he was okay with it, which he agreed to.
It was a week or so before Paul got the nerve up to talk to Jan. A couple of days later, I was invited to join them for steaks from the grill.
Jan met me in the den, and gave me a strange look before asking, "Did you tell Daddy what we talked about the other day?"
"No, I didn't tell him what we talked about – only that we did talk, and the general subject."
"I don't know if I like that."
"Well, Trouble, you've got to understand that your dad is my friend. I wasn't real comfortable about helping you that way without his knowledge. At the same time, I wasn't going to do anything to break the trust you showed me. This just seemed like a good way to get him involved – which I think you would agree he*should* be – without getting you in trouble, or having him upset with me. Nothing has changed, other than the fact that now he*knows* that you're learning about the general subject of sex education. He still doesn't know what you're looking at or learning – just like I don't. The only thing that's different is that now we don't have to worry about hiding something from him. I'd say that was a good thing, wouldn't you?"
"Well, yeah, I suppose. I guess that's okay, then. Do you tell him about everything, though?"
"No, just about the stuff that I think is really, really important, and that I think he needs to know about. That's why I only told him that we had talked about the general subject of sex, but not any of the details. I think you'll also be happy to know that HOW we got onto the subject wasn't mentioned," I added, smiling.
She turned only a little pink, and replied "Yeah, I kinda figured you didn't say anything about*that*. From the way he acted, I don't think he could have talked to me at all, if he knew!"
"Trouble, I want you to know that you can trust me not to tell your dad about everything we talk about. And if there is something I*must* tell him, I'm not going to spill any secrets – I'll only say as much as I absolutely have to. I hope you can see that from the way I talked to him."
"Sure, I can understand that. I do trust you; I was just surprised by it, was all."
"Okay, how about if there's something I think I need to tell your dad, I say so to you, first? Then we can agree on how much and what I can tell him, so that you're not surprised again."
"That sounds okay." She answered. After a little pause, she added, "Yeah, I can live with that. Sometimes I have to tell to Daddy about stuff I hear Leo or John talking about, so I think I understand what you're saying."
"Fair enough. If you're happy, then I'm happy. Let's go burn a cow!"
With that, we headed out to the patio.
A couple of weeks went by before Paul had to go on another out of town trip.
I was again the Designated Authority Figure, this time on a Tuesday, after school had let out.
The kids were okay to leave for a few hours at a time, so I was able to get some work done during the day, after stopping by around mid-morning; still, I made sure and got to their place about mid to late afternoon. As an engineering consultant and designer, I usually have enough slack that taking time for such things isn't a problem.
I found a note that the boys had gone off to the local park for a baseball game; a little noise revealed that Jan was in the den in front of the computer.
As I moved up next to her, she looked up at me, but continued reading the web page she had up. A brief look revealed that it was something involving how quickly breasts grew on teen females. With extreme casualness, I made my way over to the stereo, and asked Jan if it would bother her if I listened to some music. A quick shake of her head, and I soon had some Mozart playing while I read a technical magazine I'd received that day.
The next thing that I noticed was the sound of a small riot approaching the den: Leo and John were back, demanding to be fed, and*right now*. I looked up to see Jan shutting down the computer; then we both got up and headed toward the kitchen to prepare supper. During the meal – spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and salad – I noticed that Jan kept looking at me.
I discretely checked to make sure that I'd shaved, my fly was zipped up, that I didn't have a spaghetti noodle stuck to my forehead, and so on.
After supper, the boys headed in to the living room for a rousing game of Nintendo while Jan and I cleared the table, and cleaned the kitchen. As we were finishing, Jan asked me if she could talk to me for a minute. I agreed, and suggested Cokes at the dining table.
When we were seated, I just looked at her, and raised my eyebrow.
She started off with the big guns: "Dan, do you think my breasts are too small?"
"Why, do you?" I asked, trying for time to think.
"I don't know. A lot of the other girls at school have bigger ones, and I wonder if I don't need some kind of shots or something."
"Jan, I'm sure you've noticed that women have all different sizes of breasts – some larger, some smaller, most in-between. You're only 14…"
"Almost 15!"
"Almost 15, and I think your breasts are just the size they need to be – for you."
"But don't you think they should be bigger?"
"Trouble, I think they fit you just fine."
That earned me a dirty look before she said, "I didn't ask if you thought they fit okay, I asked if you thought they should be bigger."
"Jan, why are you asking me this? I mean, really?"
She hesitated a bit, before answering with "I heard some of the boys at school talking, and they all wanted to go out with one girl that has really large ones. I thought if mine were bigger, they'd want to go out with me, too. I want to be pretty, like she is."
"Trouble, I think what you were hearing was just hormones talking in those guys. Do you think your mom is pretty?"
"Sure!"
"But she doesn't have a large bust, does she?"
"Well, no."
"Stop and think about it for a bit: think of all the movie actresses that are so popular. How many of them have large busts, and how many are small-to-medium sized? And think carefully about what you hear guys say about the girls with the really large breasts, and look at the women that *most* men choose to be their wives. It's the difference between lusting after the unusual, and loving the realistic."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Trust me on this one, Trouble: You look just fine, and I don't think you're going to have any problems finding a boy that agrees with me."
That seemed to comfort her, and we went into the living room to watch TV while Leo and John electronically mangled and mutilated each other in the den. Before long, it was time for them to go to bed, and not much later, Jan left, as well.
Imagine my surprise when, a few minutes later, Jan joined me in the living room again – wearing her bathrobe. I pretended not to notice, and she sat down at the opposite end of the couch from me. I could see that she had something on her mind, but was willing to let her pick her own time and place to say her piece.