With an Extreme Burning Read Free Page A

She's only seventeen.”
    “Uh-huh. How old were you and Chet when you started doing it?”
    “What does that have to do with this situation?”
    “Seventeen, right?”
    “We're talking about Amy, not me.”
    “Kids are sexually active a lot younger these days. You know that.” Eileen devoured part of her bacon cheeseburger. Chewing, she said, “I can guarantee that neither of my kids is a virgin. I wouldn't be surprised if Bobby started when he was twelve or thirteen. He's a handsome little devil, if I do say so myself.”
    “Boys,” Cecca said, “you have boys, not girls. It's not the same thing. Girls get pregnant.”
    “Not if they carry condoms in their purses.”
    “Eileen, this isn't funny. Not to me, it isn't.”
    “I know, honey.”
    Eileen reached across the table and patted her hand. The gesture was maternal and her expression was serious, but even at her gloomiest, Eileen seemed to be on the verge of a wink or a chuckle, if not one of her bawdy laughs. It wasn't that she was frivolous or insensitive; it was just that she looked at the world with a positive, sometimes wryly humorous eye. Her self-assessment, which she was fond of quoting to people she'd just met, was that she was “a big brassy blonde who loves life and doesn't give a hoot who knows it.” Even a sudden disaster like poor Katy's death hadn't dampened her spirits for long, although she'd cried as hard as Cecca had when they first heard about it.
    “What would you do if you were me? Ignore what I found, or talk to Amy about it?”
    “Probably ignore it.”
    “You wouldn't want to know if your daughter was sexually active?”
    “I don't think so.”
    “Ignorance is bliss?”
    “Her right to privacy, too, even if she is under age.”
    Cecca picked at the remains of her Cobb salad. “I keep telling myself the same thing. But I still want to know.”
    “So what's stopping you from asking?”
    “Amy's finally quit blaming me for the divorce; we have a good relationship again. I don't want to do anything to rock the boat.”
    “You mean she might think you were snooping.”
    “I wasn't snooping. I really did bump her purse off the table by accident. But what if she doesn't believe it?”
    “Mmm,” Eileen said reflectively. She finished the last of her burger, licked her fingers, wiped a spot of grease off her chin, and permitted herself a ladylike burp. “Have you ever talked to her about the birds and the bees?”
    “Once seriously, when she was thirteen. I've tried since, but …”
    “Awkward?”
    “Awkward.”
    “You used the mother-to-daughter approach, right?”
    “What other approach is there?”
    “Woman to woman. Casual, chatty, the way you and I talk. If she's been doing the deed, and you don't make her feel threatened about it, she'll either tell you straight out or let something slip. At least you'll know how she feels about sex at this stage of her life. And you won't have to mention the condoms at all. She'll tell you about carrying them, if she wants you to know.”
    Sometimes Eileen amazed her. She could be so cavalier, downright flighty at times; and then she'd come up with a perfectly wise, practical suggestion like this. Funny how someone could be your close friend for thirty years and you still didn't have a clue as to how her mind worked.
    Eileen said, “Good idea?”
    “A lot better than any I could come up with.”
    “You know, maybe I missed my calling. Maybe instead of a nurse I should have become a family counselor. Or a sex therapist, like Dr. Ruth. What do you think?”
    “I think I'm going to buy your lunch.”
    “Ah! The exact amount of my consultation fee. It also entitles you to an extra ten minutes, so let's move right along to your sex life. How're things with you and Jerry?”
    “Jerry and I are just friends, you know that.”
    “Meaning you still haven't slept with him.”
    “No, I haven't.”
    “Going to?”
    “I don't know. Probably not.”
    “Doesn't make your toes tingle?