Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Emily's Lessons (Mf, rom) by Jay Cantrell

   Normal disclaimers apply.  If you are younger than 18, or this material
is illegal where you live, please don't read this.  The following depicts a
consensual sexual relationship between an adult and a child younger than
18. If this type of material offends you, please don't read this.  Oh, and
if you just don't want to read this, well, don't read this.  By the way,
this is a work of fiction (as in this is NOT real.  In any way.  As if just
for fun).  If you want to steal this, well, I guess I can't stop you.  But,
take a second to ask yourself: Why?  If you have an answer to that (I
don't), at least be polite and give credit to me (not that it is due).

   Chapter 10 Coming clean

   "Well, I guess you two got things ironed out," Susan said, somewhat
bitterly.  "Perhaps I should ask just what's going on here."

   I was like a deer caught in the headlights, too stunned to speak, just
glad that she hadn't walked in 10 seconds earlier.  I soon found it she
might as well have.

   Emily, never at a loss for words, was caught off guard, as well.

   "Never mind," Susan said.  "I know all too well what's going on.  Emily,
go home.  I'll have a talk with you later.  Right now, I think I need to
have a little chat with our neighborhood pervert here."

   If Susan wanted to get Emily into a tizzy, calling me that was just
about the best way to do it.

   "Pervert?  Pervert!" Emily screamed.  "Little Miss
Go-To-Bed-With-Whatever-Has-A-Dick has the nerve to call someone else
names. If that doesn't take the cake.  No, Susan, I will NOT go to your
apartment.  In fact, I am home.  Right here.  So you might as well get used
to the idea."

   Susan turned a shade of red I hadn't seen before, and, as a precaution,
I moved Emily off my lap in case Susan tried to strike her.

   "Susan, just calm down for a second," I told her.  "You're right.  We
all need to talk.  But yelling and calling each other names isn't going to
help anything."

   "Calm down?  I walk in right after you have finished molesting my niece,
and you want me to stay calm," Susan exclaimed.  "You're damn lucky I don't
call the cops.  In fact, I think I am going to."

   "Wait, please.  Let's talk for a minute," I told her.  "The cops will be
there if you still want to call them in a little while."

   Emily was just about at the end of her rope.  I could see a new look in
her eyes: Rage.

   "Let her call them," she said.  "They will tell her what I told you
yesterday.  I am over 16, so this isn't a crime.  The only crime is my aunt
thinking she can live my life for me.  You and Mom aren't very different
after all.  Are you Sue?"

   That salvo from Emily got Susan's attention, and I was beginning to
suspect I would have to try to stop her from slapping her niece.

   Not willing to risk it, I had heard enough.

   "Knock it off, both of you," I bellowed.  "Susan, do whatever you're
going to do.  Either call the police or sit down and listen or just go
home. Emily, you either sit down and be quiet or you can go back to Sue's,
too."

   The both turned to look at me, especially Susan because in the year she
had known me, it was the first time I truly lost my temper with her.

   "OK, that's better," I said.  "Now let's go to the living room, and we
can talk like civilized adults."

   The adult comment brought a small smile from Emily, who was glad I
grouped her in that category.  Of course, it also brought a snort from
Susan.  Either 'adult' or the fact I considered myself civilized.  I wasn't
sure which, and I certainly wasn't going to ask.

   Once we got out front, I spoke again.

   "Susan, I realize it is a shock to you, but you should know that it is a
shock to me, too.  And I certainly understand the way you reacted.

   "To be honest with you, this morning, I had much the same feelings about
me as you do right now.

   "Right now, I don't.  Whether you or your family or I, for that matter,
like it, Emily is an adult, in all ways but her age."

   I couldn't resist being a jerk, so I added, "If you had spent more than
a passing moment with her over the past few weeks, you would have known
that."

   OK, that was a stretch.  I had spent practically every waking moment
with her over that timeframe, and it hadn't dawned on me.

   "I am convinced that she knows what she is doing and what she wants," I
continued, although wondering if it was my little head doing the thinking.
"There are parts of it I am uncomfortable with, but there are parts of it I
certainly am not.

   "As for molesting your niece, you can kiss my ass.  I won't even dignify
that with a rejoinder.  For that matter, for any other harsh comments you
have, you can kiss my ass for those, too.

   "One of the best things she said to me, outside of the fact that she
realizes that we love one another, is how mad it makes her when you treat
me like this.  Well, she won't have a reason to be mad again.

   "You want all the privileges of Emily being here and none of the
responsibilities.  Here's something you should consider: You, more than
anyone outside of Emily herself, are responsible for me falling in love
with your niece."

   Susan reacted with a flash of anger, then pulled herself together.

   "What do you want me to say?" Susan asked.  "Do you want me to say that
I'm happy with this?  I'm not.  Do you want me to say that I approve?  I
don't.

   "Joe, I trusted you.  Of all people I thought would never do something
like this, it was you.  And Emily, I trusted you, too."

   Emily answered before I could.  I'm glad, because she made a lot more
sense than what I would have said in anger.

   "Aunt Sue, what have we done to abuse that trust?  So far, we've just
kissed.  I'm not saying that is all we'll do," Emily said, and glancing at
me, continued.  "It might be.  Joe and I will decide that at some point.

   "Is it the age difference?  Dad is 13 years older than Mom.  Grandad is
almost 17 years older than Grandma.  Or is it because you think I am
stealing your safety net?  Because I am not."

   The anger that had once graced Susan's face was now a blush of
embarrassment.

   "You ARE a very thoughtful girl," Susan told her.  "But, I just worry
about you.  And, honestly, about Joe's motivation."

   Looking at me, she said, "I know your divorce hit you hard.  And I know
you haven't dated much, if at all, since you moved in here."

   Emily came to my rescue, once again.

   "Suze, he was waiting for you," she said, her eyes downward.  "Waiting
for you to realize HE is the guy you're always looking for."

   As Susan stared at me, I felt compelled to finally speak.

   "I guess that was true," I told them both.  "But, it really isn't now.
This is not about getting you to notice me, Susan.  It was at first, I will
admit.  Now, it is about what I have been feeling for Emily.  I didn't
recognize it at first, mostly because it was so different from what I felt
for you.  But, early on, I stopped spending time with Emily as a means to
impress you, and started spending time with her because I want to."

   I tried to explain to Susan that this was not a plan.  There was NO
motivation.  It just happened, as things sometimes do.  I realized after a
few minutes, that I probably wouldn't ever be able to explain it to her
adequately.

   Shaking my head, I finally gave up.

   _____

   Author's note: Well, this is a lot harder than technical writing, I am
finding.  I am sorry the past few chapters have taken so long to write and
edit and have been so dialogue driven.  I really couldn't come up with an
adequate device to explain what each person was thinking without using
verbal tags.  I hope I have been successful in keeping each character's
speech clearly marked and unencumbered, so much as was possible.  I also
want to take this time to thank all those who have written express their
support and to offer suggestions.  I appreciate them.  You have made what I
am trying to do much easier.  As always, if you have constructive critcism
(Hey, Jay, That Sucks is not constructive -- will all due respect given to
Harry Chapin), please feel free to write to me at cantrell_jay@yahoo.com.