How to Talk to a Widower

I understand the cliché about fathers and sons playing catch. We’re together and engaged, but far enough away to say personal things without feeling exposed, and for the things we can’t bring ourselves to say out loud, we have this ball to throw, and we can hear the neat smack of hard leather on soft and know the message has been delivered.
    I’m hanging up now, Stephen! No! I’m hanging up!
    “Thanks for talking to Jim,” Russ says. “It’s much better now, knowing that I’ll be moving back here soon.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “It’s the first time I’ve felt remotely okay since … you know.”
    “I’m glad.”
    “So I guess you’re my stepfather again.”
    “I guess so.”
    “How does it feel?”
    I think about it for a moment. “It feels okay,” I say.
    “Good.”
    Throw … smack.

25

    LANEY POTTER WANTS ME TO TALK ABOUT HER vagina.
Tell me how much you love my wet pussy
. She really says this, depositing her tongue in my ear as we roll around naked on the guest room bed. When it comes to sex talk, I always run into a problem with the vagina. You’re not going to actually call it a vagina, but every other name sounds crude or just plain juvenile and makes me feel like I’m doing cheesy porn. As a result, I never refer to it directly, but kind of talk my way around it, the way I used to talk my way around my mother-in-law. “Mom” was out of the question, but “Charlotte” sounded so ridiculously formal, so I just nodded and said “Hey,” as in “Hey, can I get you another glass of tea?” And now I’m thinking about my former mother-in-law while I’m having sex, and there exists no more effective softener of erections, so I just banish the thought from my mind and try to focus on the task at hand, which has become slightly more complicated now that Laney has gotten comfortable enough with me to talk dirty during sex, which is just this side of too comfortable, if you ask me.
    And Laney likes to talk.
Yes!
she says.
I missed you so much!
she says.
Oh my God, you’re so hard!
she says.
I want you in me right now!
she says. And then, as she starts circling the runway of her orgasm, she breaks into a detailed play-by-play, complete with color commentary.
Oh my God, I’m going to come! Not yet, not yet. Oooooooh! You feel so good in me, oh my God, oh my God, my pussy is so wet, I’m dripping. Yes, yes, don’t stop, never stop! Keep your fingers right there, oh my God, yes! I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m coming!
    Having sex narrated by your partner is not something I’m used to, and I find the effect somewhat distancing, making me wonder if it’s actually me that’s lying between her legs, because if it is, why does she find it necessary to report everything to me? Why can’t she just grunt, moan, and shriek like a mature adult?
    When we’re done, she wraps her legs around me, kneading my ass with her fingers, and takes the flesh of my neck between her teeth. “Ummmm,” she purrs, licking my chin like an ice cream cone. “I missed you so much.”
    “I missed you too,” I say.
    She smiles and looks up at me. “That’s a lie,” she says, “but it comes from a sweet place.” She kisses my nose and rolls me over, so we’re facing each other sideways. “I know this is strange for you, Doug. Whatever this is we’re doing, we’re each getting something different out of it. But you’re a beautiful man, and a stellar lover, and I just don’t want you to ever think you have to lie to me. I’m a big girl, and I’m going to try really hard not to fall in love with you, okay?”
    “Okay,” I say, kissing her eyelid.
    “But in the meantime,” she says, “I just can’t stop wanting you. It’s all I think about.”
    “I want you too,” I say.
    She leans forward to kiss my mouth. “That one I believe.”
    We lie in silence for a little while and then I surprise us both by saying, “I was thinking about starting to date again.”
    “Oh!” she says, unable to hide the look of consternation that spreads across her face. “Do you think you’re ready for that?”
    “I’m not sure,” I say. “I don’t know what I’m ready for.”
    She licks her fingers and then moves them to my crotch, grabbing me in her wet fist. “Well, I know one thing you seem to be ready for,” she says, propping herself up and kissing her way down my belly. “And you know what they say?”
    “No,” I say, rolling onto my back. “What do they say?”
    Her voice is muffled