My wife's death wasn't a surprise. Beth had fought a courageous battle against cancer but it finally became too much for her. There was only slight consolation in the fact that her suffering was over.
The real surprise was that our daughter, Amy, came to the funeral.
The people at the funeral were mostly Beth's friends, primarily her support group, and wouldn't have recognized Amy anyway, but her gray suit and veil that would have disguised her from anyone except me.
Amy and her mother had always had a strained relationship. Beth's older sister had been a wild child who left home as soon as she turned 18 and was dead of a drug overdose before she was 21. Because of that, Beth was excessively hard on Amy, afraid that she might take after her dead aunt.
I did what I could do to be a peacemaker, but, of course, I had to work and my evening and weekend efforts clearly weren't enough. Beth's strictness completely backfired and when Amy turned 18, she simply left home just as her aunt had done.
Amy never made any effort to keep in touch or let us know where she was, but this is the internet age and I was able to track her down. I sent her birthday cards over the next few years, but her only response was to return any checks I sent her, uncashed. I did send her a note telling her that her mother was dying. I thought she might be open to some sort of reconciliation, but it seems Beth's death was the only thing that would bring her home.
It was just a small group of mourners at the funeral. Beth and I had no family left, other than Amy, so just the support group and a few of my co-workers were there. After Amy left home, I had changed jobs and since I never mentioned her, no one there even knew she existed.
It didn't take long for the few mourners to give me their condolences as they left in a group, but when I looked for her, Amy was already gone.
I returned alone to an empty house. I sat quietly in my chair as the shadows lengthened, unable to move or even turn on any lights. Then I heard the front door open and I knew it was Amy coming home.
* * *
Her presence did help. She moved back into her old room and began to cook and clean like the lady of the house. We seemed to again have the friendly relationship I had tried so hard to maintain when her mother was alive.
She didn't say much about what she had been doing, but judging by the new BMW sitting in my driveway, it was clear that money wasn't an issue for her. Every time I tried to talk to her about her life, she would just smile and say, "Dad, don't worry about it. I'm here for you now."
I returned to work and began to recover. I was glad Amy was there. It was nice to come home to a smiling face.
We did have our awkward moments. Once I walked out to our pool where Amy was sunbathing topless. I quickly apologized and started to go back inside but Amy laughed at me and said, "Dad, it's just skin. Come on out and keep me company."
Then one evening, a short time later, I went out to relax in the hot tub only to find Amy soaking in the nude. Again she laughed, "Dad, you might as well get used to this. I'm not getting my swim suit wet just for a soak."
And then she started waking me on weekend mornings by bring me coffee in bed. While I sipped it, she would lie, fully clothed, on my wife's side of the king bed talking with me. Something about it struck me strangely.
Of course, it wasn't as if she was doing anything inappropriate, and, for my part, I wouldn't be. I had completely lost my sex drive when Beth's cancer returned and it had been months since I even had an erection of any sort. I'm sure it was psychological and I simply ignored it and assumed things would return to normal someday.
But all of this was minor stuff. For the most part we were simply a father and daughter once again.
Then came her birthday. I knew I owed her a lot for what she had been doing for me so I asked her to let me take her out to a nice dinner. She agreed but insisted on picking the restaurant.
When she came out of her room, ready to go, I saw that she was wearing some sort of grey knit dress that was completely form-fitting. She clearly was wearing nothing underneath the dress and, honestly, she looked hotter in it than any woman I had ever known. She was a prettier and sexier version of her mother in her prime. It was a bit unnerving.
The restaurant she chose was a quiet, romantic place that I had never visited before. We sat in a little booth and Amy insisted on snuggling close to me. After we ordered our meal and the bottle of wine was opened, I wished her a happy birthday and she asked for a birthday kiss.
I leaned toward her to kiss her on the cheek but she turned quickly, leaned into me and kissed me full on the lips. I was flustered and didn't know what to say.
Then I looked up and noticed Agnes, a woman I knew from work, striding purposely toward us. I turned to Amy with a warning, "This woman is a real busybody and is probably going to say something rude. Just ignore her and she'll go away."
It was worse than I could have imagined. Agnes took it upon herself to attack my behavior and my morals. She said, "You're wife is barely in the grave and you're out with some girl nearly young enough to be your daughter. You should be ashamed of yourself. This is just evil."
I had told Amy to ignore her, but I was too angry to follow my own advice. Amy could tell that I was about to explode and she grabbed my thigh under the table. It distracted me momentarily allowing Amy to respond first. She glared at Agnes and said, "Did you know my sister?"
Agnes jerked her head in confusion, "Your sister? What do you mean?"
Amy went on in an exasperated tone, "Did you know Beth, Jack's wife and my sister? Did you know her?"
Agnes was now flustered, "Well I did meet her. You're her sister? I didn't know she had a sister."
"She had two sisters actually, an older one and a younger one ... me. And I don't appreciate you making nasty comments to Jack like that. You're the one who should be ashamed. My sister's dying request of me was to look after Jack when she was gone and that's exactly what I'm doing. You need to apologize and leave us alone. Now!"
Agnes just mumbled in befuddlement and turned and walked away.
It was my turn to be confused. "Amy, why didn't you just tell her you were my daughter? Wouldn't that have been simpler?"
"Well," she said, as she slid her hand up my inner thigh, "as I understand it, you're not supposed to have sex with your daughter but there's no law against fucking your late wife's sister."
I roughly pushed her hand away and quickly changed the subject. I wasn't sure what to say to her and dinner was more than a little strained after that.
