by Frank Martinet
The Encounter
Meredith Dougherty was busy studying two juicy rump roasts with an expert's critical eye when she heard her name called. She selected the left meat, which she judged was superior quality, and turned, depositing it in her shopping cart. Then she looked to see who was wanting her attention.
"Edith?!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "Edith Cavanaugh?"
"Oh Meredith, it's such a delight to see you!"
The full-figured blond was close to forty, but still as beautiful as Meredith remembered. "You've barely aged a day!" she said. "But it must have been ten years!"
"Closer to nine, actually."
"But what are you doing here? Last I heard you were in London?"
"Yes, but we're back permanently now. My husband's sold his business and we're done with that life. It was time to come home."
"That's wonderful news! How long have you been back?"
Edith blushed. "Just a few weeks. I'm so sorry I didn't connect with you. You were at the top of my list, I assure you. But the past three months have been utter chaos. Tom's mother isn't well, you see. We'd always been planning to return here, especially with Rose growing up, but his mother's getting on in years and when she broke her hip at Christmas we had to escalate things. Tom had to sell his company, we had to buy a house here, move in, sell his mother's place and most of her things. There hasn't been a spare minute to catch my breath."
"Don't think anything of it," Meredith said firmly. "I understand completely. There's no offense. But you and your family must come over for dinner. I absolutely insist upon that."
"We'd be honored."
"How about this Saturday? Jim and I don't have any plans."
"I'll have to check with Tom," Edith said. "I can't think why not. His mother is homebound, but the rest of us should be able make it."
Suddenly a slender young woman appeared at the woman's elbow. She was carrying a box of sugary cereal and trying to place it in Edith's cart.
"Rose, honey, you know that crap is bad for you."
The teen shrugged. "But it's my favorite!"
"Fine, dear, but we're putting those cookies back. You've got to watch your figure."
Meredith was thinking the girl's figure needed little watching except for admiration, for she'd rarely seen such beauty. Rose had her mother's blond hair and crisp blue eyes, but she was elegantly slim with tender breasts and gracefully curved hips. Her wide, innocent face was gorgeous with a delicate nose and mouth and fine white teeth.
"Rose, this is Meredith Dougherty, one of my dearest friends from way back. Meredith, my daughter, Rose."
"Hello," said the teen in a dismissive tone that spoke of disinterest. It was just this side of rudeness - not quite blatant enough to qualify as impertinence. Clearly the girl knew her boundaries. Her accent was strongly British.
"It's nice to meet you," Meredith said warmly, giving the teen a big smile. The girl's bland expression didn't change. "I knew you when you were a little thing. You've grown up into a lovely young lady."
Rose shrugged and turned to her mother. "Can we get some soda?"
"Diet, and only two bottles."
As the girl ran off, Edith rolled her eyes at her friend. "Sorry about that. Teenagers, you know."
Meredith watched Rose hurry away, noting that the tight pink jeans held a remarkably pert posterior.
"I can't believe how she's grown up. She's just gorgeous. How old is she?"
"She's just turned eighteen. Isn't your son about that age?"
Meredith nodded. "Paul is also eighteen. It's time for 'the Talk', but we're not sure he's ready. He's a little shy."
Edith shifted her cart to one side so she wasn't blocking as much of the aisle. "That's part of why we wanted to return. We want Rose to be brought up in the Way."
"You've been training her?"
"Of course. But it's tougher when none of her friends do the same. She dreads her monthly bill and complains constantly that it isn't fair. We upped her Weekly to eight, but she's still resentful. We're hoping that moving here will help, but right now she's just angry."
"So she hasn't had the Talk yet either?"
The two women stared at each other, eyes as bright as their developing smiles. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" they said at the exact same time.
The Dinner
As the adults joked and laughed, clinking wine glasses, the two teenagers stared at each other warily from the other end of table. The pretty girl was quiet; the shy boy even quieter. He picked at his food, pushing around the vegetables with the tines of his fork. Rose just ignored her plate, sipping her soda and looking bored.
She studied him when he wasn't looking. Paul was a scrawny boy who looked closer to twelve than his reported eighteen. He wasn't ugly, exactly, but she didn't think him handsome. He looked too young and his features were underdeveloped. Worst of all, he clearly had no social confidence.
A real geek, she thought bitterly, wondering again why her folks had brought her here. She suspected it was some sort of setup, which was just laughable. Still, she had to at least pretend to be polite if she wanted to preserve her ability to sit. Her parents had made that very clear.
"Paul, if you're finished eating, why don't you clear the table," his mother said. The boy shrugged and stood, gathering his plate and utensils.
"Rose, help him," hissed Edith sternly.
Rose sighed and picked up her own plate. She stacked it with several of the empty ones from the adults and headed to the kitchen. Paul was already there, scraping food remains down the sink and rinsing the dishes before putting them in the washer
"Parents," muttered Rose. She was pleased to see Paul glance at her. His grin was nervous and fleeting, but at least it was something.
It took them two more trips to get all of the glasses, silverware, and serving bowls. When Paul fetched plastic containers for the leftovers, Rose helped fill them with the green beans and mashed potatoes and other items. Paul rinsed the bowls while Rose put the leftovers in the fridge.
"Are you going to want pie?" he asked, the most words he'd said all night.
"What kind is it?"
"There's chocolate and there's strawberry."
"Ooh, one of each, please!"
Paul flashed her another quick grin. The two carried the dessert plates and small forks into the dining room. Meredith took coffee orders while the teens each carried in a pie. Paul then served everyone, giving himself and Rose a generous slice of each dessert.
Edith frowned at her daughter, but didn't say anything. Meredith arrived with the coffee. As everyone was about to eat their treat, Jim rapped the edge of his coffee cup with his fork. Everyone turned to look at him. His eyes were focused on the two children.
"Paul, you're eighteen now and it's time for the Talk. Your mother and I have been discussing the matter with the Cavanaughs and they believe that Rose is also ready, so we've decided that the two of you will go through the procedure next Saturday."
There was a deep silence. Paul's face had gone a vivid pink. He stared at Rose with a strange expression, while she appeared bewildered.
"What's this 'talk' thing?" she said loudly, irritated at being left out of the understanding.
"It's where you'll be initiated into the Way," her mother said softly.
Rose gasped, her face flushing. "No!" she burst out. "You can't be serious! Not with... not with him!"
Paul stared at his slices of pie, his face as red as the strawberry filling oozing onto the plate. He swallowed hard, then reached for his water glass. His hand was shaking.
"Relax," said his father. "There is nothing to be worried about. You're a man now, son. It's time to prove it."
The boy's hand shook so much he had to put down the glass. Meanwhile Rose's mother was hissing at her daughter to sit and eat her dessert.
"I don't want it. I'm not hungry," Rose snapped.
"Unless you want me to cane your bare bottom right here in front of everyone, you'll eat every bite, you greedy little bitch," whispered Edith in her strictest voice.
Rose paled and shrugged and began to wolf down the pies. In her mood it tasted like chalk, but she forced it down. She saw Paul struggling to eat his share. A moment earlier the desserts had seemed like the only bright spot of the evening. Now they, too, were tainted.
The girl couldn't look Paul in the eye, turning red all the way to her ears. She'd always imagined her first time to be with a macho stud, a handsome older boy, not this pathetic dweeb. It still would have been hell, but at least she'd have been distracted.
She wished she dared argue, but she could see her parents' grim faces and knew the decision had been made. Sometimes life just really sucked.
The Anticipation
Saturday was miserably hot, a perfect metaphor for Rose's mood. She was exhausted from her week of begging and pleading. It had been such a tightrope to walk. If she protested too much her mother's short temper would have triggered a dose of the stick. Rose had narrowly escaped that, but she had not changed her ultimate fate.
Her nights had been filled with dreams of dread and wishful thinking. She hadn't slept well. One day she'd woken up feeling great and it wasn't until later that she realized she'd only dreamed that the Talk had been canceled. The despair had been so crushing she'd burst into tears during math class and had to be excused.
No, it was happening, and soon. In a few short hours Paul would be arriving. Rose could barely think of it.
At least she'd been let off last Sunday's Weekly, and she wouldn't have one tomorrow, either. Small consolation considering what was coming.
She thought again of the scrawny boy and her cheeks went hot with shame. It was bad enough to have this happen with anyone, but to have her first time be with him was just too much. She didn't even know him. She wished again her mother would have let her postpone this until she was older, but Edith had been unmoved.
"You have just turned eighteen, Rose. You're growing up. It's time."
"But shouldn't my first time be special? I don't know even know this kid!"
"It will be special," said her mother. "It doesn't matter who it is with."
Rose didn't understand that at all. How could it not matter? She'd pleaded to be able to pick her own partner, but her mother was adamant. The decision had been made and it would be unthinkable to renege now.
There was a soft knock at the door. Rose didn't respond, but her father stepped in anyway. She glanced at him sullenly, making sure he knew her unhappiness. If she'd hurt him, he didn't show it, smiling broadly and coming to sit beside her on the bed.
For a few minutes he said nothing. When he turned to her, his eyes were wet with tears. She was shocked and for a moment worried that something was wrong, but then she saw he was still smiling.
"My little girl is growing up," he whispered.
"I don't want to grow up," she muttered.
"Of course not. But like so much in life, it happens whether we like it or not."
"So there's no way out?"
He shook his head. "Sadly, no. But life does have its perks. The lows precede the highs in my experience, and they make the highs all the sweeter."
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