Part 112 (1/2)

”Sure.” Johnno squeezed his shoulder, then gestured. ”You'd best tidy

up your mess down here.”

Her eyes were dry. Emma sat, heedless of her wet clothes, on the edge

of her bed. But she didn't cry. The world, the beautiful world she had

built around her father had crumbled. She was lost again.

She bolted up when the door opened, then sank back to the bed when she

saw Johnno. ”I'm all right,” she told him. ”I don't need anyone to

kiss it and make it better.”

”Okay.” He came in nonetheless, and sat beside her. ”Want to yell at me

awhile?”

”No.”

”That's a relief. Why don't you get out of those wet things?- He put

his hands over his eyes, then spread his fingers and grinned. ”No

peeking.”

Because it was something to do, she rose and went to her closet for a

robe. ”You knew, didn't you?”

”That your father liked women? Yes. I guess I first suspected it when

we were twelve.”

”I'm not joking, Johnno.”

So, she wouldn't give him an easy way out. ”Okay. Listen, Emmy luy, a

man's ent.i.tled to s.e.x. It just isn't something he likes to flaunt in

front of his daughter.”

”He paid her. She was a wh.o.r.e.”

”What do you want me to say?” When she stopped in front of him, wearing

a white terry-cloth robe, he took her hands. She looked pitifully young

now, her hair wet and sleek around her head and shoulders, her eyes dark