“Yeah,” Caddie called back. She stood and flushed the toilet. Then, turning off the water, she returned to the bedroom and picked up her underwear from the floor, slipping it on.

“Want to grab some dinner?” Brian asked. He was still naked, absentmindedly playing with himself while he talked, as if his dick were some kind of toy.

Caddie shook her head. “I’ve got some stuff to do at home,” she said.

“How about diving tomorrow afternoon?” Brian suggested.

Caddie removed his T-shirt and tossed it on the bed. She put her own on, tucking it into her jeans. “I’ll call you in the morning,” she said. “But probably.”

“Great,” Brian said as he slipped his T-shirt over his head and stood up. He grabbed Caddie and kissed her. She felt his dick against her hand and recoiled at the stickiness of it.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, breaking off the kiss and wishing she could wash her hand before she left.

She had to wait until she got home. Even then, she had to endure a conversation with her father first. He was waiting for her, and when she walked in he said, “Do you have a minute to talk?”

She was tempted to say, “Do you mind if I wash this dick juice off my hand first?” Instead, she flopped down on the musty sofa and waited for him to say what he had to say.

Her father, though, said nothing. He sat in a chair across from her, opening and closing his mouth. It reminded her of the fish that lived in the end of the pipe, and she almost laughed. Then he spoke. “I’d like to get to know you better,” he said.

“Better than what?” Caddie said automatically.

“You’re my daughter,” Ben said. “I’m your father. Even if we haven’t really acted like it for the past few years.”

“Ten years,” Caddie corrected him.

“Actually, it’s only nine,” said Ben.

Caddie crossed her arms over her chest. Her father sucked one cheek in, and she knew that he was biting it. It was something she did too. It drove her mother crazy. Now she knew where she’d gotten it from, and the realization annoyed her.

“I want to start over,” her father said. “Now. Can we do that?”

Caddie regarded him cooly. “Why?” she said.

“Because I want to,” her father told her. “And I think—despite what you’ve been doing—you want to too.”

“What I’ve been doing?” Caddie said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her father waved a hand at her. “You know,” he said. “Not coming home for dinner. Not talking. Doing whatever it is you ... do.”

Caddie shook her head. “You think you know everything about me, don’t you?” she said. “You don’t know anything.”

“Well, now I’m trying to find out who you are,” said Ben.