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And I called Jenn's dad, asked how she was doing.

"Why are you asking me?" he said. "Why don't you call her. Why don't you ask her what's going on?"

"Because I'm asking you."

"It's a struggle, Aaron. I'm finding out more and more about her life. About the role I played in this, and I'm not happy. Are you happy, Aaron?"

"About Jenn? No, not really."

"No, I can't imagine why you would be."

"Should I try to see her while I'm here?"

"No. No, I can't see that doing her any good now, but for the life of me I don't know why you don't come down and see your daughter."

I think the word is thunderstruck.

"My -- daughter?"

"Yes, your daughter."

What followed lasted a half hour or so. I told him my version of events, he told me his. I told him I'd call my lawyer in the morning. He said that was fine with him. I hung up the phone, suddenly more concerned than anything else in the world that I had a baby girl -- and she was being raised by that monster. I called the clinic on Moorea, left a message for Jennie to call me as soon as she got in. I went to Terry's room in our bungalow out back by the pool and told her. She was aghast. I was sure Jennie would be, too, then, on a lark, I called my lawyer's number -- and she picked up.

She was working late, she said, on a big case going to trial in the morning, and I asked if she had a minute to listen to something important. She did, and I told her all I knew. Could she help, I asked? What do you want out of this? she wanted to know. Because if it's raising a kid on a boat vs with her grandparents in a house in Newport Beach, you're going to lose. I want to know why no one ever told me, I said. Well, she said, you left, didn't you? Because, I said, she told me she'd had an abortion! Why am I the bad guy here, I wanted to know?

She listened, I could hear her taking notes and she asked me to give her a few days, then she'd get on it, highest priority.

I thanked her and let her go, then turned to Terry.

"What do you want, Aaron? When all is said and done, what do you want?"

And then I noticed she was laying out on the bed dressed like a lingerie model, right down to the five inch heels.

"What do you need, Aaron?" she said again, rolling over, spreading her legs just a little.

"What are you doing, Terry?"

"I'm going to give you what you need. What you've needed for a long, long time."

"I don't need this, Terry. Not now, not ever."

"You're wrong, Aaron. You've wanted me for as long as I've known you, and don't even try to deny it."

"There's a big difference between wanting and needing."

"Not tonight, there isn't."

She stood and walked over to me, and really, I knew there wasn't a damn thing I could do. She was an irresistible force, as gorgeous as any woman alive -- and she'd baited her trap and waited for me to fall into her grasp. Now she had me, and she knew it. That night was the most sensuously vacuous I ever spent in my life, at once meaningless and as fraught with surreal consequence as any I ever enjoyed. When our night was over, she told me, it was over, but I remembered Jennie's admonishments and knew it would never be over now.

I was back in my room when Jennie called, and I told her about my daughter and current circumstances vis my lawyer's inferences.

"What do you want to do?" she asked too. "Bring her out here?"

"That would be ideal, but my lawyer, Shelly, says that living on the boat..."

"That's bullshit," Jennie said. "There are kids on half the boats we run into out here, and besides, you have a house here, remember?"

"I forgot to mention that."

"Well, don't."

"What about you? What do you think about all this?"

"I think you should try for some sort of joint custody. You take her now, and when Jenn is better you revert to some more traditional sharing structure."

"That's not what I mean. What about you? How would you feel about having her around?"

"Me? I'd love it, but it seems to me the biggest thing is to get her away from Jenn's father."

"Me too."

"So, how's LA?"

"The same, only worse."

"Oh?"

"I watched Terry and David on the soundstage yesterday. They look good together."

"Aaron, she'd look good with Hitler."

I laughed. Maybe a little too much. "You got that right."

"How are you, Aaron? You sound weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. Weird."

"I couldn't sleep. I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"I'll let you know when I hear something..."

So yes, a lie can be an act or omission, can't it? And I had just lied, maybe the biggest lie of my life, to the most important woman in my life. And a few minutes later in walks Terry, still dressed to the nines, still hungry. And still I couldn't say no to her. She was a cannibal, feasting on my indecision -- and she was hungry.

And maybe I wasn't running in circles, I thought later that day. Maybe my circles were running after me, and I wasn't moving fast enough to get out of their way. Then I remembered that sea lion in the drifting kelp that morning off La Jolla. All those things I imagined circling in the night. Kill or be killed. Isn't that what I told myself that night?

And then I realized I didn't even know my daughter's name.

Part III

After I talked to Shelly, my lawyer, two days later, I went to LAX -- on her advice -- and returned to Moorea, and to Jennifer. I returned after three more intense encounters with Terry, who I now knew I could not, and would not ever be able to resist. Fact of life. My big flaw. She was bourbon to an alcoholic. It wasn't incest, it was worse. She was a violation of every known law of nature. I watched men stare at her when she entered a room -- and I understood. I could not understand why she had chosen me. And let me be clear right here: I did not want to understand. I wanted to get as far away from her as I could, and stay there. I did not want to see her again, because I knew I'd want her again. Because I knew I would not be able to resist her again. I would not, because I could not.

And yet when I fell into Jennifer's arms it was the most comforting wave of emotion I'd ever felt, a homecoming so overpowering it left me breathless. She wanted me -- bad -- she said, and we crawled up on the forward berth -- and I couldn't get it up. I'd been drained by Terry and didn't have anything left, so Jennie put it down to jet-lag. I'd be better tomorrow, she said, but I wasn't. I was overcome -- with all consuming guilt. I'd violated a sacred trust and I wondered, could an agnostic wandering Jew go to a Catholic church and pretend to be gentile long enough to make it through the confessional? Could I say a dozen 'Hail Mary's' with a straight face -- and not have a vengeful God send me straight to Hell?

Then I was worrying about Tracy, my daughter. And I still couldn't get it up.

We'll get over it, Jennie said, but now I wasn't so sure. When I closed my eyes at night I saw Terry on that bed, her legs on my shoulders, her stockinged legs resting beside my face as I plowed her fertile valley. I could feel her all encasing warmth, my searing orgasm, the smoothness of her cool legs on my face when I went between her thighs. So...if I couldn't have her now, was I simply going to obsess about her. She was going to take over my life -- in absentia.

"Why don't we head south, for New Zealand," Jennie said a few days later.

"What? I thought they..."

"My replacement from France arrives Friday."

"You ready to move on?"

"I think so. We can come back here if Mom and Dad decide to return next summer, maybe for a week or two, but I've been thinking about Auckland. Maybe go to school for a semester?"

"Okay. Let's go over to Papeete and get the bottom painted, pick up a few spares. We can go from there."

"Okay. When can we leave?"

"I don't know? Tomorrow too soon?"

"No. The sooner the better," she said, and I knew then. Knew she could feel Terry in this place. Terry all over me. Terry's skin on my face, on my breath...

We set sail at sun-up; it was only a short hop, really. Just 15 miles, nothing like the 2600 miles jump to New Zealand's North Island that lay ahead, and we got there late morning, got Troubadour checked in at the yard and went out to find a hotel. We got a room in one of the old places along the waterfront, hard by the Parc Bougainville, and when we got to our room it was a little difficult to feel where Paris ended and Tahiti began. I called the yard, told them where we were, and they told me it would be two days at least before they could start on Troubadour. No problem, I said as I looked at Jennie.

She wanted to go out, by herself she said, and she took off, said she'd be back in a couple of hours. I showered, stood under the water for what felt like days, called room service and had them bring me some lunch. I looked at my watch, called the Beverly Hills Hotel then hung up the phone and called Shelly, my lawyer.

"We have a hearing on the 23rd," she told me.

"Next week?"

"Yeah. You'll need to be here. Oh, the house is vacant now. Want me to get it cleaned up so you can stay there?"

"Yeah, might as well."

"What about Terry? Move her in?"

"We'll see. Maybe after I leave."

"Oh?"

"I think she likes the hotel. I'll check with her and see what she wants to do."

"Oh. Well, have her call me if she needs the key."

"Yeah. Well, I'll try to get in on the 21st or so," I said, and I gave her my number at the hotel then rang off. And made the call to the hotel again, asked for her bungalow.

"Hello?"

"Terry, it's me."

"Goodness. Missing me already?"

"I've got to return on the 21st for a hearing, and Shelly told me the house is vacant now. You want to move in for now?"

"Are you planning to stay there when you come up?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to be alone?"

I took a deep breath. "No," I said.

"Then you won't be."

"Alright."

"If Jennie decides to come let me know."

"I will."

"Aaron?"

"Yes."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

And there it was. The first time she'd ever said that to me. The first time I'd ever said anything like that, to her. No hesitation. No duplicity. It's what I felt, and I knew it was wrong. And how could I love Jennie at the same time?

I called Air France, made my reservation to fly back to LA, and was just wrapping up the call when Jennie came back to the room. She saw me on the phone and frowned, and when I told her about the hearing she nodded her head.

"Maybe I should go back to Wisconsin for a while," she sighed. "Could you get me on the same flight?"

I called Air France again, made the reservation. One way, open return -- for now -- I told the agent, and Jennie walked over to the window and looked down at the waterfront.

"I like this city," she sighed when I hung up the phone.

I joined her, stood beside her and we looked out to Moorea across the channel.

"How long will you need to be in LA?"

"I'm figuring on a week."

"Anything I need to know?"

"No. Not really."

"Okay."

"What did you find out there?"

"Oh, just some girl stuff."

"Girl stuff?"

"Yeah. I'll show you later. You hungry?"

"I ordered some stuff from room service."

"Stuff?"

"Guy stuff. Real food."

She laughed. "I didn't know they make hamburgers out here? Snails, yes, but hamburgers?"

Knock on the door, waiter rolled in a cart and after I tipped him he split. Two onion soups, escargot, broiled sea bass and huge prawns -- for two.

"Perfect timing," she added.

"I like to think I take care of you, kid."

"You do, you know."

"Because I love you," I said.

"I know -- I love you too. Maybe even more than you know."

We ate in silence, then she went and took a shower. I heard her taking stuff out of her shopping bags, and she was taking her time getting dressed, then:

"Could you pull the drapes, turn out the lights?"

"Sure."

She came out a minute later -- dressed to the nines. Lingerie, heels, everything in white, and she walked over to me.

"Do you like me like this?"

I nodded my head.

"Does she..." she began, but she stopped herself, looked down at me. "Show me," she said as she lay on the bed.

"You really are lovely," I said during my second orgasm.

We didn't leave the room for five days, then we held hands across the Pacific, we cried when she left on the flight to Milwaukee. I drove to the house on Foothill Road and Terry was there waiting for me. Dressed in blacks and grays, the sexiest woman in the world -- all mine. No questions asked. I had not the slightest problem getting up. I had not the least hesitation in my voice when I told her that I loved her. Because I did.

I was between her thighs again, my face against her warmth, then I felt her shuddering, clutching my head with fierce fingers, and as she came down I moved up and entered her. I didn't last long; I never did when she had her legs up on my shoulders, when I felt her heels on the side of my face. When I came down I looked at her, my perfect lover, and I started to cry.

She looked up at me and smiled.

"Don't worry about all this, Aaron," she said as she pulled me down. She kissed me, held me close. "I'll just be here for you when you need me," she whispered. "I don't want anything more. Just to know that you still love me is all I'll ever need. Okay? You don't have to choose. I'll just be here for you, always. Whenever you need me."

And I was growing inside her warmth again, all movement involuntary now. Holding her face to mine we kissed as I fell into her movement again, and I pulled back a little, looked into her eyes as I came again. What had simply been sex before grew into something fierce and eternal in the next few minutes, yet I was more confused than ever. What could come of this, I wondered, but infinite heartbreak.

+++++

She came with me to the hearing.

I think because Shelly knew the judge was a big fan. Jennifer's father was there, of course, and he seemed to read the expression on the judge's face, knew he'd lost, and in the end I won temporary guardianship pending a final review once Jenn was out of the woods and able to stand on her own two feet. It was decided that I'd pick Tracy up in two months, and that I'd return to LA to pick her up after I arrived in New Zealand.

When we left Jenn's father looked at me like I was the anti-Christ. He did, I think, because we only called one witness, one of Jennifer's psychiatrists. She all but blamed Jennifer's condition on her father, and pointed to him, called his behavior monstrous. The judge noted that her father perjured himself when he declared in court he'd made a good faith effort to notify me, and that he was lucky she wasn't sending him to jail.

Terry, for her part, batted goo-goo eyes at the good judge, which I think made his day. Then we all went down to Newport so I could meet my daughter. It was a supervised visit at his lawyer's office, and I couldn't tell who she looked like. Not me, not Jenn, not either of her parents, then Terry spoke up: "She looks just like your mother, Aaron."

And I cried. I held my daughter and cried at unseen memory.

Barely a year old, she held her little hand out and touched my face, my tears, and I didn't want to let go of her. But I did, of course, then Terry and I drove back to the house on Foothill Road.

"You'd better call Jennie," she said.

"Don't you need to call the studio?"

"Nope. I'm not expected til the day after tomorrow, five in the morning. I'm going to go take a shower," she said, smiling.

I called Jennie.

"Well, it looks like we're going to be parents," I said.

"What?"

"It's temporary, but she's ours."

"Oh-dear-God. I can't believe it!"

"Until Jenn is out on her own, anyway. Just like you said. When we get to Auckland, we can come up and get her."

"Are you happy?" she asked.

"Yes, I am. For us all, and maybe for Tracy most of all. How're your parents?"

"Good. Terry?"

"Same as ever. When do you want to return?"

"I, uh, well, do you want me to come back with you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Are you sure?"

"Jennie? What's this about?"

"If you want me, tell me when to be at the airport," she said, and then she hung up the phone.

I went and sat in Pop's chair, thought about Tracy and what my mother might have looked like as a child, then I heard Terry in the bedroom and I knew she was waiting for me. I walked in and looked at her on the bed, all her lingerie and shoes a light gray, and she looked like pure sexuality unleashed. I showered, found her on the bed rubbing herself and she was wet when I got to her.

The whole dressing up thing mystified me for a while, then I began to look at it as wrapping oneself up as a present. But no, I found I liked all that stuff to remain on, so I began to see it as patterning. Like as kids, people of my generation were programmed to see lingerie and heels and think sex, so seeing it now was like programming a response. And when I saw Terry dressed like this I was almost overcome with instant lust; when I slipped inside I did so with her legs, often her shoes, on my face. Feeling these things kicked off images in my mind, propelled my response, and as I entered her, as her slippery warmth enveloped me I could smell the leather of her shoes, feel her silky nylons on my cheeks, and everything was like this surreal feedback loop. She didn't have to tell me what these thing meant, she knew what they did to me. I assumed she knew what they did to all men, but I didn't really care by then. I was inside her and the feeling was pure magic. I'd slide in quickly then pull back slowly, fast--slow over and over, then I'd pull out and just run myself over her clit then enter her again. Then she pushed me over and mounted my face, ground her clit onto my tongue until the tremors began, then her release was overwhelming. I flipped her over and entered her again, driving into her until I came...then it was flow down for a while until I was ready to go again. I could usually go for two, and with a break for dinner, take her a third time in one day, and she seemed to want as much as I could give her.

And I wondered if that's what she meant. When she said she'd always be there for me. Was she programming me to need her? Making me accept her as a main part of my life? If so, it was working. And well, too.

Then she surprised me again.

"We're getting to close, Aaron. I'm not sure I can keep doing this and not have you with me all the time. I'm addicted to you now, can't think of anything else. I want you so much when I'm away from you it's beginning to affect my work, and I don't know what to do anymore..."

"Terry? Can I ask you something?"

"Oh, Aaron...anything, anytime..."

"What do you want? I mean, deep down, what would make you happiest?"

She rolled and looked at me. "In the end, I'd like you to love me no matter what, but I think I'd like you to marry Jennie, try to make a home for that little girl, the three of you. I'd like you to come see me every now and then, remind me how much we mean to each other. Maybe you and I could get married, but the cost would be enormous, wouldn't it? But we could keep things just the way they are now and no one would be the wiser. I'd just go on loving you and, I assume, you'd go on loving me too. When you need me, I'd be there. Always. No questions asked. Just...always."

"Okay. I accept you on those terms. Forever. I can't not love you. And I can't stop needing you. I can't, Terry. I mean that. I don't know if you've tried to make me need you the way I do, or whether time conspired to do this to us, but I'd rather die than know I'd never be with you again..."

She folded herself into me then, held me so tight for so long I thought we'd fuse, but a while later I felt that stirring and so did she. She went down on me, brought me back to life again and she straddled me for what felt like hours, reaching down, rubbing herself as she rocked back and forth until she came again and again, then she slipped down between my legs and finished me with her mouth. I picked her after and carried her to the shower and we bathed one another, then dressed and went out to dinner.