Amiee .. a librarian .. (edit)

Blonde Amiee was a librarian for F.D. Roosevelt High School in a small Connecticut community several miles outside of Dover. Her moss green eyes were hidden daily behind a slender pair of turtle shell eyeglasses, but her lean curvy frame had her ultra-conservative wardrobe to conceal it.  She had always worn glasses and felt, like small breasts, men naturally found them unattractive.  Now nineteen and in full female flower, she HAD noticed a more ardent following in the men she encountered, but it remained anchored in her thinking that they must be desperate males, nothing more and she wanted no part of it.  It certainly wasn’t her voluptuous figure, although her breasts DID appear to be still growing.  She was tall and thin with long curly blonde hair that refused to be managed. It always seemed to form ribbons of defiant curls that bounced on her shoulders, as she walked with it down and wouldn’t be contained by hairpins or stylish berets.  Often it had to be lifted and knotted in a tight round bun on the crown of her head that gave her a headache by day’s end.  Her black matronly shoes with their heavy thick heels that were library apparel guidelines .. and her tightly secured goldilocks tresses were her biggest reasons for getting home quickly each evening.  Once yanked loose to fall freely and slowly eased from her acheing feet, she relaxed and breathed deeply in a ferocious stretch.   Her heartbeat throbbed the rush of fresh energy through her veins, from head to foot and she felt like another woman.
 
This ‘other’ Amiee emerged with a secret, though.  A now little known wicked secret that only she, growing up with little male attention might know. A secret that a girl who may possess her father’s lanky, long physique, but learned to despise his private pursuits .. his fatherly attentions, because it cost her so dearly.  It started at 11, when her shirts and dresses, began to display small tender mounds formed inside them .. and boys at school often spoke to her with an eye on them, more often than her face, when her life would undergo a change. Her ‘Daddy’ added another ‘favor’ to their loving relationship, which for years had been peppered with sleeping together and kissing her softly, like he said he did with her mother. She felt no shame in it, then.  In fact, she felt elevated .. a step closer to growing up. It was what all fathers did for their daughters, she believed.  He told her so and she had no reason to not trust his words or his judgment.   He was gentle and kind .. very loving.
It felt good to be held securely, close to him .. hear his heart beating and he never hurt her.  When ‘Mommie’ was away, working or off with friends and running errands, he would miss her, he would say .. and come to Amiee to be consoled and comforted.  Often, they only hung out together, sharing what fathers and daughters share .. their time.  Other times, it was more intimate, a deeper bonding.  She felt this was a big responsibility and not one for anyone else to fill.  Sometimes, she felt uncomfortable, a new sensation .. a different ‘way’ that made her feel awkward, unsure .. and he’d ask her if she’d rather he find another girl to care for him, but that made her more determined to do whatever he wanted.   It did make her feel needed .. special to him .. and he whispered things in her ear, sweet little things, that made her feel he
meant them for her alone.

For five years, as other girls found boyfriends and told stories about love and explored sex, she could relate to them, because they were telling her just what she was sharing with ‘Dad’. It wasn’t what they did, but who they did it with.  She didn’t have hickies on her neck or memories of climbing out windows to see a boy. It wasn’t her turn yet, she thought. She had her father, until the ‘right’ guy came along and besides, she and Dad did more, more often, anyways.  But, it would be nice to know what it would be like with Shawn or Keith .. if they’d give her a shot.  They didn’t show a lot of interest in her direct approach to things.  She gave the blame to her height and ‘these darn glasses!’  So, she listened, intrigued, with an occasional comment, as she joined their giggling and surrendered to her vow of silence of family ‘matters’, she’d been swore to secrecy for years ago.
 
Then, that afternoon happened. Amiee regretted it for the longest time. It tore apart her view of her world and put her on parade for all her friends to see and make fun of.   Her mother disowned her for a time, over her long silence, her wicked secret .. and her father was taken from her.
Her whole life had been a lie, she would eventually believe ..  and she cried so many times, so violently .. so softly.. in her loss of her dreams.  Why did she ever confide, her ‘secrets’ with her father, to MaryBeth?  ‘MB’ was shocked! She was immediately horrified and in disbelief!  Her jaw dropped wide open, before it rattled wildly how wrong everything was. What she spit in Amiee’s face, stunned her and was filled with urgent warnings and contempt for her father.  MB never did anything with her father.. EVER! .. and no one she knew, ever did either .. until Amiee said what she did.  Aimee’s thought had been so innocent, so filled with wanting to share something, like MaryBeth was sharing.  In her confusion, at hearing what MB had to say,  she needed desperately, to talk to her dad .. have him straighten all this out.  But, that never happened.
 
MaryBeth left promising to keep her secret, but warned her good friend to remember her words.  At home, in the quiet calm of her parents’ house, ‘MB’ broke down from the stressful pressure of what she knew to be filthy and vile.  She had bearly made it home, with the nausea in her belly, that weakened her legs and the ache in her shoulders that trailed up the back of her neck, throbbing relentlessly.  Her Mom called her dad home early, without telling him why and he flew into a rage, hearing his daughter’s story of Amiee’s confession!  He called the authorities .. and the rest is history.

Amiee was questioned at home, at times in tears, while warrants were posted for her father’s arrest at work, that afternoon.  He would be barred from any contact with her, under court order.

 
She wasn’t permitted to be involved, in any way with his trial.  They questioned her at home or took her to a neutral location, where they wrote down her statement, her supposition, painfully acquired .. and went to trial.  He didn’t fight it, not really.  He was found guilty and sentenced.

Amiee fretted and worried over her dad, on a dailybasis, for more than a year, while her thoughts and feelings on the matter were reviewed and discussed in a sex abuse therapy program.  Eventually, she began to concede that what had been normal and good in her relationship with her caring father, was wrong, terribly wrong in the eyes of law and everyone that spoke to her of it.

But, she loved him .. and through it all, she missed him.