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The next thing I noticed was that it was quiet. “Where’s the baby?” I asked my husband, Kurt. “She’s staying the night at Grandma’s,” he told me. “So we have the house all to ourselves.” He led me into a sparkling clean kitchen I vaguely recognized as my own. Our table had been set with a crisp red tablecloth and two place settings of our good china and crystal. A flower centerpiece was flanked by elegant white taper candles in silver holders. Steam rose from the food, tastefully arranged in serving dishes rather than pots and pans. “What’s the occasion?” I asked lightly. “I just wanted to show you how much I love you,” Kurt said, putting an arm around my waist. I could only look up into his deep blue eyes and smile. “So what’s on the menu?” I asked as he pulled out my chair for me. “Mmm,” he said grinning. “Don’t make it so easy for me.” I grinned back. “All right then, what’d you cook?” “Baked rolls, shrimp and scallop pasta, steamed vegetables, twice baked potatoes and chocolate. I awoke with daddy’s hand shaking me under my covers, and when I responded I could smell the alcohol off of him, my room was still in darkness, and he was stroking me as he slurred what it was he was awaking me for. I always slept in the nude, and I did not think about it then, but daddy was sort of exploring as I lay there, with his hand between my thighs. ‘What do you want’, I asked him gruffly? ‘Come with me’, he whispered into my ear, ‘I want you to see something’, and as he spoke I was conscious of his stroking my pubis mound and fledgling breast, both very nice feelings in the dark, but thankfully, I put it down to drink, he was a very touchy feely man when d***k. I got out of bed and reached out for my nightdress, which was just a longish t-shirt, pulled it over my head and followed him into the hallway and down towards the living room, that’s when I could hear men laughing and my mother making noises, which sounded strange to my ears, she appeared to be moaning. The living.
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