I'm a Daddy.I couldn't imagine such a turn of events just days before, but it happened. I'm not a real daddy. Christ, I'm single, always have been sin...gle, always will be single. I even had a vasectomy because I knew I'd be the worst father imaginable. Well, that and I didn't want some sweet thing to trap me into marriage. Okay, I'm not always a trusting sort. So sue me.My brother, George, always wanted to be a daddy, even when we were teens. He joined the Marines to get out of Kansas. He went. ’ As Dorinda left the room she turned for one last communion with the man whose possession she now presumably was. ‘ I’m absolutely lost, you know.’ She confided in faint desperation. Mark was smiling pensively. He was again the rather exiting young man she had met upon the road. Amity’s hand guided her gently through the door. ‘Bit lost meself, Miss.’ Amity advised cheerfully. ‘This bit’s me first go, like. I know what to do. I’m ‘oping you knows the drill.’ They had advanced part way through. Her shape was enhanced by the apron, accenting her breasts against the white material and the contour of her small hips. She wiped her hands on the side of the apron and offered me her hand to shake smiling. She seemed genuinely happy that I had walked over and we made small talk for a few minutes, until one of the cooks came out looking for her. She turned to go back to work but stopped and over her shoulders, she told me that if I came to the door in the back tomorrow morning and tapped on. Wondering what I should do, awkward as aknock-kneed girl clutching her heavy textbooks, blushing and uncertain.And yet, if I had been there, in whatever high school's whichever hallwayfull of lockers, pressing my books to my breasts, young and unknowing asshe, I'd still have known more than I know now; unsettling me now, as Iwait in my little cubicle. A lifetime more of whisperings by the lockers,giggled stories walking home together, magazines sandwiching answers withthe photographs of how to.