One evening, as we lay together in bed after making love, Sylvia said to me, "Darling, I was speaking with Gabrielle today. She's really worried about Chantelle."
"Oh," I said. "Why is that?"
"She says that Chantelle is nearly eighteen, but she doesn't show any interest in boys. Gabrielle thinks that she needs l'instruction," replied Sylvia.
"That sounds reasonable," I said. "But Gabrielle isn't married, so who would teach Chantelle?"
"Well," said Sylvia, "we thought that you might help out."
Would I teach my niece the art of making love? Well, why not? It wasn't any weirder than teaching my own daughter, which had happened a couple of months ago.
"Sure," I said. "I'd be happy to teach Chantelle."
A few days later I had a call from Chantelle. "Hi, Uncle Steve," she said. "Mama told me about l'instruction. I think that we should meet up and talk about it."
We agreed to meet for coffee after Chantelle finished school that day. She was waiting for me when I arrived at the café. When I saw her in her school uniform it was hard to believe that she would be eighteen in a couple of weeks.
She gave me a hug and we sat at a table on the sidewalk. There were no other customers there, and so no-one could overhear our conversation. We chatted until the waitress brought our coffees. I could see that Chantelle was nervous, So I thought that I should raise the subject.
"About l'instruction, Chantelle," I said. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's entirely up to you. I understand that you might not be comfortable about it."
It's not that," she replied, "it's just that, ..... well, you see, ....... I like girls!"
It took me a minute to recover, but I tried to act casual. "I see," I said. "And you don't want your mother to know that you are a lesbian?"
"Exactly!" she said.
