Storiesonline.net ------- Sex, Lies and PCR by Argon Copyright© 2010 by Argon ------- Description: A young scientist meets the boss's daughter at his department's Christmas shindig. Sparks fly, sperm flows and suddenly a shot gun wedding is looming. Problem: she is pregnant from another man. Or so she thinks. It's not really a Christmassy sort of story but it may fit the spirit. Codes: MF cons rom humor preg ------- ------- Chapter 1: Meeting Lillian The seminar room was decorated haphazardly with a few paper lanterns and a mangy, fake christmas tree that carried the dust of untold years spent stowed away in broom closets. The room was far too small anyway for the over fifty people who had assembled for the lab christmas party. I wiggled my way through the crowd and to the tables that served as buffet for our contributions. With not a little pride I placed my homemade salad on one of them and pulled off the Saran wrap. It was an East-Prussian herring salad, a family recipe from my grandmother who had been a native of Konigsberg. This was my first Christmas in the US, in fact my first Christmas away from my hometown in Southern Germany and I still felt awkward and lost. During the last summer I had completed my Doctor rerum naturalium, the German equivalent to a Ph.D., and I had come to Bethesda, MD, for a post-doctoral stint at the National Cancer Institute. I was still suffering from culture shock and I was not fluent in English either, at least not in colloquial, American English. This was offset by the friendly, open atmosphere in our laboratory. I had colleagues from India, Taiwan, Italy, Scotland, and Canada (the French-speaking part). None of us spoke perfect English, least of all our Scotsman (just kidding, Angus!), which lowered the pressure for the individual. I had poured myself a glass of California red wine and had just selected a spicy pastry that my pal Shyam from Mumbai had contributed when the Big Man entered. Max Rosenzweig was our Lab Chief, a salt-and-pepper haired, distinguished gentleman. Only six months into my post-doc time I already tried to model my conduct after him. He maintained the same friendly distance from every member of his team, regardless of their individual achievements. He was encouraging and always able to help you with advice. Did I mention that I admire the man? In his wake walked, no, glided two gorgeous specimen of the female gender. On second look I saw that they were mother and daughter, not sisters. Both were rather petite at 5'5" and lithe yet undeniably female in spite of their short, black hair. Obviously they were Max' family, a hypothesis that Shyam, a two-year veteran in the lab, confirmed. "Ruth is a Section Chief in Building 10," he told me, pointing out the older woman. "She's a clinical oncologist. Lillian is a college senior at the University of Virginia." "She's very pretty," I blurted. "She is," Shyam sighed spontaneously and reverently. Then he shrugged. "What the hell, she's way out of our league." I took a second or two to process the idiom. When I understood Shyam I grated a bit. "She's something better she thinks?" I asked a little nettled. I didn't think of myself as chopped liver after all. "No, she's a nice girl but get real! Do you know what a Lab Chief takes home? At least 120 grand a year. What do you have? Twenty grand and a one-year fellowship." He had a point there and it was a moot point anyway. The lab rumor had it that Max' father was a holocaust survivor, the only survivor of his entire family. Well, I am German. Go figure! Max never let me feel any reservation – he was too good a person for that – but there is a difference between accepting a post-doc and letting him date his daughter. Nevertheless, I repeatedly caught myself stealing glances at the black haired pixy and twice she looked back at me with a mischievous smile. Fate struck when I reloaded my plate at the buffet. Suddenly, a throaty voice at my side made my hair stand on end. "This is so good!" I looked right and there she was, Lillian Rosenzweig, loading another ladle of herring salad onto her plate. She looked up at me – I'm 6'3" – and smiled. "This salad is great. It's like my grandmother's. You have to try it!" she enthused. I think I blushed, but the opportunity was too good to pass. "Thank you, Miss Rosenzweig! I like that you like my salad." Did I mention that my English sucked? "You made that? Get outta here! You must give me the recipe! Mom!" she waved her free hand desperately until her slightly older looking mirror image appeared beside us. "He made the salad!" Ruth Rosenzweig came over. "You must be Rudolf Bernreiter," she smiled. "Max talks at lot about you." I was worried immediately, and it showed. "Only good things," Ruth smiled. "He was so happy to snag you away from Stanford." "Oooh, the wunderkind," Lillian giggled. "And he can cook, too." Seeing my embarrassment, she was contrite, but a little devil danced in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Rudy," she smiled. Whatever embarrassment I felt was of no consequence because she put her hand on my arm in a friendly gesture. "I'm a tease, I know, but Father has been singing your praise for almost five months and I never had a face for the name. Still, I won't let you go without getting the recipe out of you." "I can't help you here," Ruth grinned. "Better give her the recipe. I know her: she won't give up." "Yes, I can give you the recipe," I managed to say, inwardly kicking myself for my clumsy English. In my native tongue I could dazzle her, I could be witty and make a good impression. In English I sounded like a veritable idiot even to my own ears. "Let's go to the computer room," Lillian said, pulling me out of the room, not without loading another helping onto her plate and grinning smugly. The computer room, our pride. We had a real life Sun Workstation in there running the GCG Wisconsin software package for DNA analysis. This machine kicked some serious ass! We also had two Macintosh 512k with 9" black and white screens, plus a Kodak laser printer. The Macs were maxed out at 1 megabyte of RAM with 3 1/2 inch, 400k floppy drives and they were incredibly fast with their 6 MHz Motorola 68000 processors. Lillian sat down at one of them, pulled a floppy disk from her purse and inserted it. Then she started MacWrite and looked up at me. "How do you call that salad?" "East-Prussian herring salad," I answered, and she typed that as a title. Little by little, she extracted the information she needed, translating my grams into ounces and pounds, and my quarter-litres into cups. Of course I stumbled more than once trying to find English words for ingredients and spices. Fortunately, but she had enough German to understand me and after fifteen minutes she saved the file and printed a hard copy. That done, she began asking me questions. Where did I come from? Did I have siblings?How long did I plan to stay in the US? I answered as best I could, afraid that any lull in our conversation would break up our being together. I even asked her some questions stumbling over the words and ever so sensitive to my different background. She took my awkwardness in stride smiling at me and touching my arm now and then. When we ran out of topics an hour later I had a monster crush on Lillian. Reluctantly we rejoined the crowd in the seminar room. I fixed her with another glass of wine and had a coffee myself. We stood together sipping our respective drinks and searching for a new topic for conversation when Lillian suddenly looked into my eyes. "Do you have wheels?" she asked, and when I did not comprehend, "I mean, a car?" I nodded hastily. Did I have a car! Three months ago at a neighborhood yard sale I had found a true beauty. A cream-colored 1966 Mercedes Benz 200D in mint condition and a steal at just $900. It had 120,000 miles on the clock but its Diesel engine was running like – well, an old tractor. Lillian went to where her mother was standing and said something into her ear. Her mother raised her eyebrows and looked at me but then she shrugged and smiled. Lillian came back. "Have you ever been to Georgetown?" she asked and I nodded. Back in 1985 there was no restaurant worth mentioning in Bethesda, quite a difference from today. If you wanted to eat well you had to drive down to Georgetown. "Come on, let's have dinner someplace. Dutch treat!" I shook my head, not understanding the idiom and she smiled. "Dutch treat means we each pay for our food." She grinned ruefully. "I know what you guys get paid and it's less than my allowance." I could hardly believe my good fortune when we located our coats and left the building heading for the park deck. I found my Benz and Lillian admired it dutifully. I made her buckle up – something that was engrained in me – and Lillian giggled. "You're quite the worrywart," she laughed. Then seeing that I did not understand, "You worry too much." I shook my head while I maneuvered the Benz out of the park deck. "When I studied, I worked night shifts at a morgue. I saw all those people coming in from traffic accidents. All those dead they never had bruises from safety belts; they had not buckled up." "You worked in a morgue?" she asked incredulously. I nodded. "Yes, it was good money. My parents could not pay for my studies, not for everything. My sisters were at university too, so the money was not enough. I worked six night shifts every month and made almost five-hundred Marks." She looked at me dubiously. "That's, what, $200?" I nodded. "When I did my doctorate I had a salary so I stopped working in the morgue." Lillian stared ahead for a while as I drove south on Old Georgetown Road into Bethesda, the Diesel engine making quite a racket. "Now I feel like shit," she admitted. "My parents pay for everything. I spend $200 just for eating out and clothes." "Don't," I answered. "It wasn't so bad. We are not poor. My sisters and I, we came within three years and we finished school within two years because I skipped a year ... a grade, I mean. We went to university at the same time and the costs were too high all at once. My sisters worked, I worked, and we managed." Obviously, Lillian decided to change subjects and there was a twinkle in her eyes. "You have been checking me out all afternoon," she said. I was thawing around her and I did not feel that embarrassed anymore. "Yes, you are good to look at," I answered, giving her a short grin. That made her giggle. "Where is the shy nerd I met two hours ago?" "Nerd?" "A nerd, a geek, you know. Somebody who is awkward around girls, who reads and is not an athlete." "Oh, but I am an athlete," I protested. As a matter of fact I had won two national rowing championships in the uncoxed pairs, no mean feat at all, and I told her. She smiled. "Brains and brawn, how rare," she teased me. "Oh, I'm not that smart but I can lift heavy things," I quipped happy to remember the one-liner I had seen printed on a T-shirt in a gift shop. "Hey, that was your first joke," she smiled. "You do have a sense of humor. Tell me what is your favorite comedy?" "The Life of Brian?" I offered. A wide grin split her pretty face. "Really? That's one of my favorites, too. 'Thwow him to the fwoor!'" "And stwike him woughly?" I asked back. She grinned at me, her eyes sparkling, and I held my breath. God, she was beautiful. "Do you have a VCR?" she asked breaking through my reverie. Mentally, I decoded the acronym. "A video recorder. Yes, I have one." "Let's rent 'The Life of Brian' and get pizza!" she suggested excitedly. "You do have a place to live, don't you?" "Yes, I have an apartment on Grosvenor Lane." "So let's!" We were on Wisconsin Avenue and had almost reached Washington Circle. I simply used Washington Circle to turn back north. I knew a small neighborhood video rental off Old Georgetown Road where we found a copy of 'The Life of Brian'. Lillian was a little flustered because the video store had an adult section. Then she giggled when she saw that the customers in that section tried to hide their faces seeing a gorgeous young woman in the store. At a pizza parlor next door we bought a big Quattro Stagioni pizza to go and five minutes later I led Lillian into my apartment. I had been lucky hunting furniture on yard sales. A French diplomat had sold off his entire household having to move to Australia and the items were a steal at the prices he asked. The sofa and the coffee table were European style and more to my liking than American offerings. I even got a beautiful Berber carpet to match the cream colored sofa. This apartment was far better furnished than any place I had lived in in the past eight years. Lillian looked around approvingly before she carried the pizza to the kitchenette. Ten minutes later we sat side by side on my sofa and watched the opening credits on my modest 20-inch TV set, munching pizza slices and sipping beer. I sacrificed my last batch of imported Beck's for this occasion. For the next ninety minutes we enjoyed ourselves. We blurted out the dialog in sync with the Monty Python troupe. We even sang "Always look at the bright side of life" during the credits until one of my neighbors banged against the wall, setting us off into laughter. And then it happened. Weak from laughing so hard Lillian sank against my chest and I hugged her to me in reflex. She looked up with smiling dark eyes full of invitation and I kissed her without thinking. Touching her lips was like touching a live wire: a jolt of electricity ran through my lips and I pressed her close to me. Five minutes later found us on my bed (thank God, I had fresh sheets on it!) making out. She tasted so sweet! My hands were under her sweater and under her bra, and she moaned into my mouth as I caressed her perky breasts and her excitable nipples. After a few more minutes Lillian broke the kiss and pushed me away. Her eyes bored into mine. "Rudy, you are only the third man for me. I'm not a slut." My mouth became dry with excitement. "I could never think bad of you," I said sincerely. She smiled at me again. "You're wearing too many clothes," she admonished me. I pulled sweater and T-shirt over my head and opened the belt buckle. In less than a minute I was naked. I took my time then to peel Lillian's clothes off her tight body. Her breasts were small, half the size of oranges, but they stood proudly on her chest defying gravity. Her nipples were extended and stiff. Her stomach was flat with a play of muscles underneath the smooth skin, but her butt was simply heavenly. I am fifty-two years old now but in all my life I have never seen a more beautiful behind than my Lillian's. Ever. Not in real life and not in any printed or electronic medium. That may explain why I focussed my attention on those heavenly globes first, kissing the taut flesh and nipping the skin. Lillian purred in delight and arched her back presenting that perfect backside to my ministrations. When she opened her legs I had a wonderful view of her plumb lips, swollen already with lust and shimmering with moisture. I pulled her butt cheeks apart and swiped my tongue from bottom to top, from her clitoris to her anus causing a squeal of delight from her. She quickly turned on her back and spread her legs. Grinning happily she pointed at her pussy. I was happy to be of service. More squeals followed as I licked and nipped her folds. Moans followed when I added first one, then two fingers to the equation while keeping up the oral ministrations. It was increasingly difficult to keep up the good work with her undulating hips and clenching thighs. It was time to bring one of my oldest and closest friends into play. Lillian nearly chewed off my lips when I moved up on her body and came into her reach. She stiffened slightly when the tip of my dick brushed her vagina for the first time but then she smiled and nodded. She was wet all right and it took me only a few swipes along her slit to lubricate the head of my dick before I placed it at her entrance and pushed. Her eyes flew open and her forehead knitted in concentration when I pushed forward. I'm really not big, perhaps seven inches on good days, but this must have been one hell of a good day and it took me a few minutes to work my way into her tightness. Heaven! She fit me like a tailor-made glove. I felt the ripple of muscular contractions all around my shaft as I lay still giving Lillian a chance to adapt. Slowly she relaxed around me and smiled into my eyes. I kept holding still as Lillian began to tilt her hips up and down. She was testing the waters so to speak. She seemed to like it because she kicked the back of my thighs with her heels. "Do something!" she grinned up at me. With infinite care I withdrew from her hot, tight channel until only the head of my dick was embedded in her snatch. Then I pressed down, slowly and steadily, until I was fully seated again. Lillian gasped a little. "Wow!" she whispered. I repeated the maneuver, still keeping my slow pace and from the sounds she made Lillian appreciated the slow going. It was an act of self preservation for me. Going faster would have increased the friction to an unbearable level and I would have ejaculated then and there. The slower pace gave me some semblance of control. I kept pumping into Lillian with steady movements for a few minutes and watched her facial expression for clues. Her mischievous grin was long gone. It was replaced by a soft smile. Her small hands brushed over my forehead, my cheek, my neck and played with the curly hair on my chest. I felt that she was building up. Her breath was getting short and her eyelids began to flutter. I kept up my slow rhythm for another dozen strokes and then I bore down with all my weight, pinning her under me and grinding my pubes against her crotch. Her arms and legs locked behind my back and she squealed softly while a tremor run through her body. Her eyes opened with a wondrous expression before a happy smile broke out all over her face. "I came," she announced happily and blushing a little. "I've never come from penetration alone," she added. Was I good or not? With one obligation out of the way I could concentrate on my own sensations. Those sensations were simply sensational. Lillian was more relaxed now but she was still tight. Plus, I had been teetering on the brink for a while. Lillian was still hugging me and now she pulled down my head until my ear was close to her mouth. Her tongue snaked into my ear and I shuddered. I felt my cock swelling and Lillian must have felt it, too. "Come now, come in me. I'm safe, I just had my period. Come for me, Rudy!" Her feverish whisper into my ear egged me on and I began to bunny fuck her with rapid strokes, deep, deep, deep. Her pussy pulsed around me adding to the sensory overload and then something in my brain exploded. I plunged deeply into her, crying hoarsely while I tried to penetrate as deeply as possible. One, two, three, four pulses cursed through my dick as I hosed down her cervix. Well, not really, but I sometimes like to flatter myself with that image. Then I was done, lying limply on top of her small body and crushing her with my weight. "Whew!" Lillian sighed beneath me. "Think you can lift yourself?" Groggily I complied and dropped down at her side. With my right hand I caressed her cheek. She turned her head to look at me. "That was nice. We'll have to do this again when I come back next time." "You're leaving?" "Yeah, I'm not really inclined to celebrate the birth of Christ," she answered drily. "I don't celebrate Chanukah either. Nobody in my family is religious. I'm returning to Charlottesville tomorrow." That disappointed me. I had hoped to see more of her. "I would like to see you again. I mean, not only to have sex, but to talk and have fun." "Yes, we had fun, didn't we? I'd like to see you again, Rudy. I have some business to finish in Charlottesville and it can't wait. You know what: give me your phone number and I'll call you." "Can I offer you a shower before you leave?" I asked. "That would be nice," she beamed. "Care to wash my back?" "I would love to," I answered honestly. "It is a beautiful back." I let my fingers run down her back and over her buttocks. Lillian bent forward and kissed me softly. "You're a really good guy, Rudy. Don't change. I promise, you'll see me again." We had our shower, and I did get to wash her back including her fabulous derriere. I became hard again, of course, and Lillian jacked me off with her soapy hand. I came all over her chest much to her amusement. By midnight I dropped her off at her father's house and she kissed me once more before she stepped out of my car and went inside. Frankly, I doubted she would ever call me. Shyam had been right: she was way out of my league. Little did I know. ------- Chapter 2: You play, you pay The Christmas season was over and we had a cold spell all January. That pretty much kept me working indoors, i.e. in the lab and I was making excellent progress with my assigned project. I saw Max Rosenzweig regularly and nothing in his behavior indicated that he knew about Lillian and me. I was not planning to enlighten him. In early February Lillian had not called once. I resigned myself to the realization that our evening together had been a fluke, a one-night stand. I was very surprised when one Friday evening in mid-February my phone rang and I recognized Lillian's voice. "Rudy?" The way she spoke my name already gave me a foreboding. This was not a call to refresh our acquaintance. "Hello, Lillian," I answered trying to convey friendliness. "That is a nice surprise. I had not expected you to call anymore." "Listen Rudy, I know this is sudden but I need to talk to you. I'm in a bit of a tight spot. Do you think your vintage car can make it to Charlottesville?" I thought only briefly. Right after our encounter I had contemplated such a trip. "Sure," I answered. "As long as there's no snow, no problem. When should I come?" "Umh, tomorrow? It's rather urgent." "Can you tell me why?" I asked getting worried. This sounded ominous. "Please, not on the phone," she begged. "Can you just come? I'll explain then." "OK, I'll come. Can you give me an address?" "Just follow the signs to the Downtown Mall. I'll be waiting near the visitor parking. Can you be here by twelve? It's a three hour drive from Bethesda." "Yes, I can do that. I'll leave here at nine. Are you sure you want to meet me there or should I try to find your place?" "No, no. I can't miss you, not when I'll hear your engine." I heard a soft laugh on the other end. That consoled me. If she could tease me, things could not be bad. Yeah, right! I left on time the next morning. Traffic was still light on the beltway and on I-66. I switched to Highway 29 at the Gainesville Exit and followed it all the way to Charlottesville. Even with my ancient Benz I made good time and it was a quarter to twelve when I found the visitor parking for downtown Charlottesville. Before I could park the car Lillian was there and opened the passenger side door to slip in. "Hi, Rudy. Thanks for coming on such short notice," she said with obvious relief. She didn't look happy though. She looked more like a bearer of bad news. "Hi Lillian. I'm happy for the chance to see you again." There was a ghost of a smile on her face. "You're sweet, Rudy. Listen, your heating is not too good. Can you drive down that road? There's a small restaurant where we can sit. My treat." Obediently I drove a few hundred yards until we stopped in front of a small restaurant. Inside Lillian found a secluded table in a corner where we sat down. A waitress appeared and Lillian ordered for the both of us. When the waitress had taken the order and was gone, Lillian faced me with a determined look on her face. "Rudy, there is no easy way to say this so I'll just speak it out. It seems I was wrong about my cycle. I'm pregnant." Talk about being shocked! My mind whirled trying to cope with this outlandish idea. Hadn't she said... ? Was is possible? Was it my child? "I told you, you were only my third man, Rudy," she said calmly as if she had read my thoughts. I took a deep breath to calm down. I looked into her eyes. There was fear in them and a silent plea. "So, what can we do?" I asked. She pressed my hand, exhaling deeply. "I ... I don't know yet," she answered. "There are a few options. One, I can have the baby and give it up for adoption. Two, I can have the baby and raise it by myself. I'm sure my parents will support me but they might ask you to contribute financially. Three," she blushed, "I can have the baby ... we can have the baby and care for it together. That doesn't mean a wedding, okay?" I noticed that she did not mention abortion and I was secretly relieved that this would not be an option for her. I firmly believe that a woman must decide if she is able to carry a child to term but it would have torn me apart to have my baby aborted. I quickly thought about the options she had listed. I did not like number one. Who knew what nut cases the adoption agency would come up with? Number two was not attractive either. I would pay without having rights to the child. Then I realized what Lillian really meant with option three. It meant some form of partnership. I took a deep breath again. We had only known each other for a few hours. That was not enough for such a commitment. But still... Lillian watched me as those thoughts bounced around in my head. I looked back at her. She was a cute girl with a wonderful personality. Did I like her. Yeah! Could I envision living with her? How as I supposed to know that? I did not know her. "Listen Lillian, first let me say that I will be with you. You will not be alone. Your option one does not sound right to me. Number two is ... It looks like I'll buy my way out of this. But number three, I mean, we have known each other for a few hours only." "I know," Lillian sighed. "Maybe, we can do something in between number two and three," I suggested. "I can be there for you and help you. I can help you raise the child and we can get to know each other better. Then, in a year or two we can decide between number two or number three." A thick tear ran down her cheek, but she pressed my hand. "You're a decent guy, Rudy," she croaked. She composed herself. "I'll have to tell my parents, and soon." "Scheisse!" The one word came from my mouth. I had to face my boss and admit that I had fucked and knocked up his only daughter. My professional future was over. He would fire me and my visa would be revoked. The INS would put my sorry ass on the next plane headed for Germany. "Hey, I know that word," she said wrily. "Don't worry about the job. My dad would never fire you over a personal matter. Your days as his favorite may be over, though." I buried my face in my hands briefly. "When do you want to tell them?" I asked resigned to my fate. "I'm scheduled for a visit in two weeks. Can you keep that weekend free?" I nodded. Just then our food arrived. The burgers were delicious but I had no appetite. I left half my burger and almost all the fries on the plate and the waitress was hesitant when she cleared our table. "Was there something wrong with the food, Sir?" she asked worriedly. I shook my head. "Nothing wrong with the food. I'm not hungry." "Let's go for a walk," Lillian suggested and that was what we did. We walked around Charlottesville for almost three hours but I did not see much of the town. We talked. We plotted our strategy for the next weeks. Dusk was settling when we had finally agreed on a plan. I would pick her up on that Friday afternoon and bring her home. We would arrive together and face the music. We returned to my car and I drove her back to her off-campus apartment. She gave me directions but when we arrived she put her small hand on my thigh. "Listen Rudy, I don't like the thought of you driving home in the dark with that old clunker. Stay the night and drive back tomorrow." I blushed, I could not help it and Lillian smiled wrily. "It's a bit late for modesty," she said. I thought about it. She was right. I even had my sports bag in the trunk, with some fresh underwear. "I can do that," I said, and I was rewarded with a hug. "Let's go in, then," she said, opening the passenger door. The apartment was very similar to mine. The dingy entrance hall/living room had a sofa, a coffee table, a TV set and a beautiful old rocking chair. "The sofa's a foldout. You can sleep on it or in my bed," Lillian said matter-of-factly. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "It's too late for me to play hard-to-get," she said with a little bitterness. With two steps I was in front of her and held her in my arms. "I would love to sleep with you, Lillian," I said earnestly. She hugged me back and stood on her toes to kiss my cheek. "Let's prepare some dinner," she suggested. I followed her into the small kitchen and we surveyed the contents of the fridge. She had tomatoes and red peppers. There was a can of tuna and spaghetti in the storage and I suggested spaghetti with tuna sauce (I know, the poor dolphins!). We set to work. I chopped the vegetables and Lillian got water boiling for the pasta. I found a casserole and poured olive oil into it before I put it on the stove. Soon I had the tomatoes, peppers, chopped garlic and onion rings simmering in the oil. I added basil and rosemary to the mix and then the chopped tuna. When the spaghetti were ready to be drained the tuna sauce was ready, too. We had our dinner at the small kitchen table drinking Diet Coke with the pasta dish. We ate pretty much in silence until Lillian put down her fork and looked into my face. "What?" I asked. "Our first dinner," she said. "This didn't go too badly, did it?" "No, at least we seem to be good together in the kitchen." Lillian smiled now. "Your tuna sauce is great." "So are your spaghetti," I winked causing her to laugh. She gripped my hand across the table. "Rudy, we can make this work. I think you are a great guy. I'll never make you regret this." I was startled at the emotion she showed in this moment. Her almost black eyes were huge and I was losing myself in her stare. It was an effort, to answer. "We must make it work, Lillian. We'll have a child together." ------- We spent that night together in Lillian's bed cuddling closely. It was a small bed, just four feet wide, but Lillian and I did not mind. The way she cuddled up to me we could have made do with a two feet cot. I woke up and we were still in each other's arms. Lillian was still asleep. Her cute pixy face was relaxed and she looked like a mischievous little angel the way she smiled in her sleep. It was in this moment that I saw the only way for me to handle the situation. The emotion washed over me and on impulse I kissed her forehead. Her eyes opened slowly and the smile on her lips widened. There must have been something in my eyes because she was wide awake in an instant. "Once we have told your parents I will call my family, too," I said. "I want them here when we will do the right thing." "The right thing? As in... ?" "The right thing. That is, if your father doesn't kill me." Her face brightened with a happy smile and she hugged me with a surprising strength. There was no risk of falling asleep on the three hour drive home. I left Lillian's place after lunch, and for the next three hours my brain revolved around the fact that I would "have to marry". I know, I know: you play, you pay! Nevertheless, it felt like I was in a different age. People didn't 'have to marry' anymore, did they? ------- Chapter 3: A man named Theo For the next week, I buried myself in work. I tried to minimize my contact with Max but it was not to be. I succeeded with a series of experiments which one could pretty much describe as verification of Max's pet working hypothesis. We scheduled a repeat of these experiments in the next week to be extra sure. I already knew that Max was the most cautious when he liked results. It is so easy to accept findings that fit your preconceptions and you sometimes overlook errors in the experimental setup. I thought I'd surprise Lillian with an unscheduled visit to Charlottesville. Hey, it was 1986 and diesel fuel was way less than a buck per gallon. The whole trip cost me less than ten dollars. I started early on Saturday to beat the shoppers to the Beltway and it was not even eleven o'clock when I parked my Mercedes a block away from Lillian's apartment building. Just as I approached the entrance a man left and I slipped through the closing door without thinking. I climbed the stairs making hardly any noise with the trainers I wore. I stood before her apartment door and I almost knocked when I heard Lillian's voice from inside. "No, I don't want your money, Theo! I told you I won't have an abortion." I distinctly heard a man's voice from inside, deep but too low to understand. Then Lillian again. "You have a lot of nerve, Theo! First you lie to me to get into my panties. Then, when I'm in trouble all you have to offer is five hundred bucks for an abortion. No support, not even a friendly word." A knot of sickness formed in my stomach and I leaned against the door jamb. Now the guy inside raised his voice. "I never lied to you!" "Yes, you did! You were never separated from your wife. You cheated on her with me." I could not make out his response but Lillian's voice certainly carried. "Elaine told me of the dinner at your house. Darling here, darling there. Not a bad word between you. You lied, Theo! Damn, why did I have to be so stupid? One last time to part in friendship, wasn't it? Where the fuck did you get that condom? Was in in your fucking wallet since high school?" Only murmur from his part. "Broken, my ass! You knew I was off the pill. I thought you were being careful." The man's voice sounded pleading. But Lillian really got going. "Oh stop whining! You're such a wimp! Why would I tell your wife, huh? To get you? I wouldn't take you if you were the last man on earth, that is if you were a man at all. I have found a real man, one who has a sense of responsibility. Let me tell you that he's a much better lover as well." Mystery man was angry now and his voice carried. "Is he? Well, are you going to tell him of the cuckoo's egg?" "I'll be the best thing in his life. I'll be the best wife he ever dreamed of. I'll make sure he will never regret anything. I'll be his, Theo, while you can crawl back to your wife. And I warn you: one word to him or to anybody else and I'll file a complaint with the Faculty. You fucked a student, Theo. They'll kick you out and nobody will ever hire you again." I had heard enough at this point and I knew that I had to get out of the building before my stomach started heaving. The child wasn't mine. Lillian was using me to cover up an affair with a faculty member. She had betrayed me with another man! I waited outside in my car to see the man. I got a glimpse of him when he left Lillian's building, a thirty-something, balding guy with a noticeable paunch. Not exactly a hunk. I knew the type. One of the professors in the institute where I graduated had chased female students, too. He was unattractive but he scored at least one student every year. Had Lillian been trying to sleep her way up? I counted on three hours of introspection on my way home. I replayed the overheard conversation in my mind. I recalled her words when we parted before Christmas that she had unfinished business. Theo was her unfinished business and the weasel had scored a farewell fuck. What was I going to do? Sure, I could call her and tell her that I overheard the conversation. I could tell her to go and and find another moron. That was the manly thing to do, right? I would have to find a new job but I wouldn't be saddled with feeding a cuckoo. Other parts of the conversation came back to me persistently. The ones where Lillian had told Theo that she would be the best wife for me. The part where she told him I was a far better lover. Okay, she probably wanted to needle him there. Still, the fact remained that this unbelievably sexy, cute, adorable woman could be my wife. Against a certain price, of course. A nasty, opportunistic voice in my head added that as Max' son-in-law I would find many doors open to me, professionally speaking. I pushed those thoughts back but they kept sneaking back in, making me feel uncomfortable. I was already approaching Gainesville when I made a gut decision and turned my car back. It was two o'clock before I arrived and this time I made sure to ring the bell. Lillian looked terrible with rings under reddish eyes and her expression changed to dread when she saw me. "Hey," I offered softly. "Care to spend a few hours with your fiancé?" Bad wording. Really bad. Hearing my words Lillian began to bawl in earnest and my shirt was doused in tears before she got a grip on herself. "What are you doing here?" she whispered hoarsely. "I wanted to see you. Is it a bad time for you?" She gave me a sad smile and stared into my face for almost a minute. "I had a quarrel with an ex-lover, my second boyfriend, you know. He ... he wanted to renew the relationship but I told him he was too late. It got a bit ugly until I told him to get lost." Again a sad smile. "I'm damaged goods, I guess. And you? Having second thoughts?" 'You have no idea, ' I thought. Aloud I said, "Who wouldn't? This has all been quite a shock. I guess I came to learn more about you. I mean, in some way we'll be tied together and we don't know much of each other. I have a serious question, too." Her lips trembled now and her look was pure dread. "Shoot!" she said tonelessly. I took a deep breath. "Is all this only about the baby or do you care a little about me?" For an answer, she pulled me into the apartment, slammed the door shut and hugged me tightly. "I do, Rudy, I really do! You must believe me! I'm sorry I screwed up; I thought I had it planned and now we have to cope with my bad judgement." "Ssh! If you are talking about our night together don't call that screwing up. It was beautiful, you were beautiful and it was worth anything that came out of it." Her grip grew tighter and I felt her sob at my chest. "There's just one good thing: it's you I'm with. I promise you'll never have reason to be sorry." I was sure she meant it because the grip she held me in conveyed raw emotion. We stood like that for minutes and then she whispered softly at my chest. "I hope Papa won't be too mad." That was certainly a hope I shared. ------- Chapter 4: Facing the 'rents On the next Friday I picked up Lillian in Charlottesville and drove her to Bethesda. Almost during the entire trip she snuggled close to me seeking reassurance no doubt. She planned to spent the night at my apartment and we would drive over to her parents' house for lunch. That was the plan. We had dinner in my apartment. I had prepared a lasagna the evening before. We had that together with beer (non-alcoholic beer for Lillian, of course). She liked my cooking or maybe she was developing weird tastes, being pregnant and all that. Anyway, after dinner we snuggled on my sofa and watched a movie on the tube. I was pure coincidence but Channel 9 showed "Top Secret", the Cold War spy spoof. The movie was hilarious and once again we were making out as soon as the closing credits rolled. Laughing together made us feel incredibly close and, yes, horny. I took Lillian to my bedroom then, peeling off her jeans first, then her blouse and finally her underwear. Her tummy was still flat, of course, but the thought alone that a life was growing inside her made the experience special. Okay, I had some ugly thoughts, too. But I felt strangely responsible for Lillian and treated her with as much tenderness as I could. Suddenly she yanked my head up from her tummy where I had kissed her. "Lie back, Rudy. I haven't got even with you yet." She pushed me on my pack and proceeded to busy herself my dick. I could tell that oral sex was not her strongest suit yet but she was making love to my cock, nibbling, licking and suckling on the tip. She was a quick learner, too, gauging my reactions and adapting to what I liked. Who am I kidding? I liked all of it. Okay, maybe not when her teeth grazed over the glans. Ouch! "Sorry," she giggled, and still giggling she took the hurt appendage deep into her mouth. I love her giggling! She had me on the brink in no time and I gripped the bedsheets for control. Then, with a sly smile, she looked up at me with those big, black eyes and slowly sucked my cock back into her mouth. Her tongue swirled under the tip and her cheeks caved under the suction, but her eyes kept staring up at me. I was a goner! My hips bucked and then my semen spurt into her mouth making her choke and cough. I was too far gone to notice at first and when I finally came to Lillian had rolled on her back and was laughing her pretty ass off. "Damnit, Rudy, give a girl some warning next time," she told me off, still laughing and coughing. "Sorry, Lilly," I said immediately, but she just waved away any apologies. "Did you like it?" she asked. How is a man supposed to answer such a question just seconds after being drained of his strength and wits? "Never felt better in my life," I panted. I was giving honesty a try. "Well, I didn't think it was too gross," she opined judicially. "It tasted kinda spicy, but that may have been the food." We both laughed about her gourmet critique of my semen, and Lilly gripped my semi-erect dick again, looking it over. "You're a real prick, but I like you," she told it, grinning mischievously. Then she focussed on me. "What's a girl got to do to get her pussy licked in your bedroom?" When we fell asleep two hours later Lillian was one orgasm ahead of me. I had kissed and licked her to two minor peaks before she decided that she wanted the real thing. Needless to say, my dick had recovered completely and she rode me to a mutual climax. The mental kick of penetrating a pregnant girl was tremendous and I forgot everything in those frantic minutes of coupling. ------- We slept late and took our time, talking and getting our story straight. Then, a little after eleven, Lillian dressed in a pair of loose-fit jeans and a knit sweater while I preferred slacks and a sports coat. Together, we left the apartment block and found my ancient Benz. When we drove up at Max' place, a nice colonial job west of Old Georgetown Road, my heart was beating in my throat and Lillian looked even worse. I drove up the driveway and seeing his daughter alight from my Benz – a cause of good natured teasing from the lab members for the past months – must have given Max a first clue. The wariness in his features was hard to overlook. "Lilly! Why are you... ?" "Rudy was nice enough to pick me up in Charlottesville, Papa," Lillian said in a voice laced with apprehension. "I have ... there are things I must tell you and Mama, and it's better that he's with me." I could see Max closing his eyes for a moment. "The Christmas Party?" he asked weakly. Lillian nodded and took a deep breath. "I found out two weeks ago but I had to tell Rudy first. We weighed the options, Papa, and we're going to handle it together." "Together?" "Yes," I spoke up, braver than I felt. "If Lillian lets me I'll help her all the way. This is not just about the baby. I feel strongly for Lillian." "That's how I feel too, Papa!" Lillian blurted. "We haven't known each other for long but I care for Rudy." Max shook his head. "The driveway is no place for this sort of talk. Come in, both of you!" In we went. The next step was easy. Ruth Rosenzweig had already heard most of the news and she rushed to hug Lillian. The look she had for me conveyed a variety of meanings, friendly reproach chief among them. But then Lillian whispered in her ear and Ruth's expression changed into dismay. "Oh, dear," she said, shaking her head. We were left alone in their sitting room for a minute or two while Ruth and Max pretended to rustle up drinks for us. In reality they were probably engaged in a discussion about where to bury my remains. They must have reached a result fairly quickly because they returned with two glasses of Coke for us. Max sat down opposite from me. "Didn't they teach you about birth control?" I blushed. "They did, but I had not planned anything, and..." I caught myself before I put the blame on Lillian. "And?" "I wrongly assumed that she was protected." Lillian put her hand on my arm. "It was my fault, Papa. I thought I was in the safe part of my cycle. I told Rudy, too. He..." "I should have been careful anyway," I put in. Max shook his head. "So now you want to do another foolish thing on top?" "It is my child," I said hesitantly, acutely aware of the thin ice I was walking on. "Yes, but this is 1986. I don't even own a gun. There are other options for a responsible man." "Max, as shortly as I've known Lillian, I care for her. I'm not leaving her alone to bring up the child." I turned to look at Lillian and my reward was a look full of love, yes, love. It was the first time ever I saw a girl look at me like that. I'm sure the older Rosenzweigs saw it, too. Max shook his head. "You'll be your grandfather's death, Lillian," he said heavily. I knew what he meant, and his next words did not surprise me. "My father lost his entire family to the Nazis. It will not be easy for him to accept you." "I can imagine," I said. "And I'm sorry to say that nobody in my family was an Oskar Schindler. My father was a gunner in the Navy, the Reichsmarine. He was at Narvik and later he served in the Tirpitz. He was lucky to get another appointment before she was sunk. He spent four years as a prisoner of war, first in Mississippi and then in the English midlands. He is a fairly liberal man but his father was a low-level Nazi party member and so was my uncle. I don't know them well enough to tell whether they gave up those views, but I doubt it." "And you? Are you trying to atone for your grandfather's sins by marrying a poor Jew girl? Are you perhaps trying to rebel against your family?" I shook my head with conviction. "I would not feel different if Lillian's last name was Nordstrøm or Menotti. I enjoy being with her, and the whole..." Lillian butted in, her voice conveying exasperation. "Papa, this never came up between us. We're just two young people. You always said..." "I know what I said. I know that Rudy is a good guy and that he has a future. I would not even say anything if you were dating. No, that's wrong: I would be approving if you were dating. For me, it's not about you and him. It's the timing, or rather the complete lack of timing. Can you perhaps postpone any irreversible actions for two months? Lilly, you could come home for Spring Break and see Rudy. Find out about each other. See if you are compatible outside the bedroom. Rudy, I am aware that our Lillian is an attractive girl. Find out if there is more to her and if that agrees with what you expect of a partner for life." Lillian and I looked at each other. I saw her nod and nodded back. There was reason in what Max had said. "We can do that, Papa," Lillian said, offering a pleading smile. Max looked at me and nodded grimly. "After lunch, you two visit Lillian's grandfather!" Gulp! ------- Robert Rosenzweig must had received advance warning for he waited for us on his front porch as we climbed from the Benz. "Let me talk first!" Lillian whispered urgently. No objections from me! "Hi Robert," she offered. "Liliane, komm 'rein mit dein' Schatz!" (Lillian, come in with your boyfriend!) I was flabbergasted to hear him talk in German and it showed. He laughed. "Des hasch' ned erwartet? Du bisch also d'r Lausbub, der wo unsere Liliane in die Umstaend' 'bracht hat?" (Your didn't expect that, did you? So you're the scalawag who knocked up our Lillian?) I had not expected him to speak to us in German, much less to be addressed in the Swabian dialect he used. "Ja," was all I could think to reply. "Luemmel!" he muttered. "Komm' scho' 'rein!" (Lout! Come in already!) In we went. The house was small, perhaps 700 square feet, but neat and cosy. He led us to the kitchen where we sat at a massive wooden table. A strong smell of coffee permeated everything and soon we were offered cups. Lillian winked at me. "I think he likes you!" she whispered. Yeah, right. Being called Lausbub and Luemmel indicated his high esteem for me. "Milch?" he asked us. (Milk?) "Robert, you know my German sucks. Now that you flustered Rudy enough, speak English, please." "Hah! Your German sucks? Your German did more than suck or you two wouldn't be here," the old man answered crudely, taking delight in Lillian's red faced embarrassment. He got up my gander. "Mr. Rosenzweig, we are trying to act responsibly in a difficult situation." To my surprise, he laughed delightedly. Then he gave me a piercing look. "Hascht du unsere Liliane lieb?" (Do you care for our Lillian?) I nodded vigorously. "Hat sie di' lieb?" (Does she care for you?) Again, I nodded. "Hat sie mir gesagt." (That's what she said.) "Was sag'n deine Leut', wenn du a Judenmaedel heimbringscht?" (What will your people say when you bring home a Jewish girl?) Interesting question. I forced myself to look back openly. I answered in English, because I wanted Lilly to understand everything. "My parents and sisters will be curious about her but not more than about any other woman I might have brought home. Some relatives may have misgivings to be honest, but I'm not close to them and we don't have to see them. In fact, if they can't let go of their views they can just go to hell. Besides, who says I'll take her back to Germany?" "You like it here, then?" he, too, switched to English. "Yes, so far, I like everything just fine." "That's a relief. We would hate to lose Liliane." I noted that he always spoke her name the German way. He looked at me under bushy brows with a sad expression on his face. "I'm asking these things for a reason. As a lad in Memmingen, I had a girlfriend, my schatz, my Veronika. I called her Vroni. My, she was pretty, with nice boobs even at fifteen. I was sixteen. It was against the law, you know? They had already passed the race laws. She was as German as a girl could get, with those big, blue eyes and her blonde braids." He paused, shaking his head sadly. "When the Brown Shirts caught us they nearly beat me to death. What was worse, they tore Vroni's clothes off and marched her through the streets naked and with a sign, Judenhure, around her neck. They cut off her hair, the poor girl. Her family left Memmingen shortly after and I never saw her again." I winced and blushed. What could I say? "I'm sorry for both of you," I offered. Then I had an idea. "Would you like to find out if she made it through the war and if she's still alive?" He stared at me in surprise. "I never thought of it. Could you ... How?" That was a valid question at the time. In 1986, if you wanted to locate a person you had to know the name and the town of residence and then you needed access to address books or telephone books which were bulky and expensive. No quick internet search or a phone book on a CD. "My father works for the postal service. They have search facilities, you know, for when letters don't have the correct address. Can you give me her last name and where her family moved?" "Langner was her family name and I heard they moved to Kempten. They had relatives there. I hope she made it through the war." We spent another hour with him moving to less depressing topics. In the end he slapped my shoulder when we left. "Schau' ruhig mal wieder vorbei, Rudi!" (Drop by any time, Rudy!) In the car Lillian pressed my hand smiling happily. "I told you he'd like you!" Me, I plucked my sweat soaked shirt away from the skin of my back. ------- Chapter 5: Air ducts Two months were over and no, we had not changed our plans. Some doubts remained on my part, sure, but with each passing day Lillian grew more on me. We just meshed on so many levels, be it our tastes in food or our general outlook on life. There was also a growing intimacy. We learned how to please each other, no only physically but also emotionally. More and more I became convinced that accepting Lillian's deceit was a small price to pay for the wonderful companion I had found. There was also something that made me question Lillian's reckoning. It was when we calculated the birth date. I noticed that, oddly, she calculated everything with the last day of her menses as day one. Asked about it, she looked at me like I had grown horns. "Why are you asking?" "Lilly, the way to count is to take the first day of the menses as day one. That's how it's in all the books on natural birth control." See, I was a man of the eighties: I knew about stuff like that. "That doesn't make a difference either way, does it? I'm pregnant," she answered a bit defensively. But then she shook it off. "Sorry, Rudy. You're just trying to help, and I'm snapping at you. So I'm supposed to take the first day, huh? God, I don't know, it's just how I understood it in sex-ed. Good thing I didn't sleep around too much or I would have got pregnant much earlier." That was pretty much the extent of our conversation but it made me think. She must have slept with Theo the Weasel after her return to Charlottesville, to guess from her ranting that I had overheard. 'One last time' she had said. If her receptive window had been earlier, then the child may still be mine. After all, I had not used any protection, trusting Lilly to know her cycle. God, how could that be? Here she was, the daughter of two world-renowned scientists, and she screwed up her calendar? I was a regular dinner guest at the Rosenzweig house and Ruth in particular had already adopted me. After dinner that evening I made like I was helping with the dishes and quizzed Ruth. "Umh, Ruth, not to be a know-it-all, but did you know that Lilly has no idea how to calculate her receptive days?" "She does not ... What do you mean?" I explained about our conversation that morning and Ruth listened with wide open eyes. The she shook her head. "I thought they had covered that in sex-ed. We ... I guess I never saw the need to talk about that in detail. I mean, we have all the books on the bookshelf. She could have just ... Oh, fuck!" It was my turn to gape. To hear Dr. Ruth Rosenzweig, MD, PhD, say the F-word was a surprise. She wasn't done yet. "Oh, damn! That's why ... Oh God, I'm so sorry. I screwed up, and now you must bear the load!" I was quick to register my objection. "No, no! Lilly is not a load for me." "Yes, but I would imagine that you would have enjoyed to get to know her with a bit more leisure?" I made a face. "I don't know if she would even consider me..." Now it was Ruth's turn to object. "Stupid man! Don't you see how much she loves you? That evening, after the Christmas party, she came up to my study and told me about you. She was positively gushing about how nice you were and how much she wanted to see you again." She was? But why hadn't she called earlier? Ruth saw the question, but she tightened her lips. "Don't ask me why she waited so long to call. That's something she'll have to tell you when she's ready. Let's just say that she had to arrange things first." I let it be, but I had more food for thought now. Okay, it was possible that Ruth was in on the true story and just wanted to lull me further, but her words seemed to fit with what I sensed from Lilly. ------- Plans for our shotgun wedding were soon under full steam and my own family had already booked their flights to Dulles. My parents and both my sisters planned to attend my wedding. My parents were of course dismayed to learn that their son had knocked up a girl. Soon, however, they warmed to the idea of having their first grandchild. I was twenty-nine after all, a doctor, and it was time for me to procreate. I sent them pictures of Lillian and my sisters agreed with each other that she was far too pretty for me. They joked on the telephone that I had knocked up the poor girl as my only chance to get her to marry me. I cannot say that I was indifferent to those allusions but with my affection, oh hell, love for Lillian growing steadily I mentally shrugged it off. I was the winner here. I won the big prize. Theo Weaselham (or whatever his name was) was just a sperm donor and a bad memory for her. I hoped. Then came the day when I picked up my family at Dulles Airport. They were four (I thought) and therefore Lillian had stayed at home to do some last minute planning with her mother to leave enough room in my car. Imagine my surprise when an unknown elderly lady followed my parents and sisters from immigration into the arrivals hall. She had to be over sixty but I could see that she must have been a real knock-out in her young and even not-so-young years. My parents hugged me first, then came my sisters, and then my father pushed the lady forward. "Rudy, this is Veronica Langner." My eyes popped open. She smiled at me. "Please, I don't plan to be a nuisance. Only, when I heard that Robert is still alive I just had to come." I had to shake my head. "Well, then by all means welcome! Robert will be surprised, that's for sure." Six adults were a tight fit in the Benz. Fortunately, it could seat three in front and I picked Barbara and Irene, my sisters, to sit with me. "Once you return home, bring this car back with you!" my father commented from the rear seats. "Those tail fin Mercedes fetch huge money at home." "Papa, that may take a while if at all. I like the work here and now I'll have a wife and a child, too. We'll come to visit you, never worry, but I don't know if I'll ever move back for keeps. I can make a career here and I don't have to deal with the Old Boys' networks at home." "That's what we thought already," my mother answered. I could see in the rearview mirror that she was trying to smile bravely. "Is it because of your Uncle Georg?" Uncle Georg was the former (and as I suspected, still latent) Nazi. "No, I haven't seen him in five years. But you all know there are other people like him. Lillian's grandfather lost his family and I don't want to expose her to that sort of shit." "Does her family know about Georg?" my father asked, all of a sudden uneasy. "Lillian's father knows. I came clean right away. I told him that you were not involved." My father shook his head. "We were all guilty," he said dejectedly. "We all closed our eyes to what they did and planned and we pretended we had no idea. When Vroni told us her story..." "There were some good people, too," Veronika Langner interrupted him. "A woman confronted the SA and stopped them, dressing them down like you wouldn't believe! Then a policeman made the SA men release me, and the woman gave me clothes and held me while they drove me home in his patrol car." "I fled," my father continued. "That's why I joined the Reichsmarine (Navy), to be away from all that. In the ships you could pretend that things were not happening." Wow. In twenty-eight years I had never heard him speak of the Third Reich. The topic was taboo. At school our teachers, even the young ones born after 1935 and not to blame for anything, did not dare to touch the topic for fear of alienating some of the senior teaching staff who might or might not had laden guilt upon themselves. My mother patted his hand. "If you had been bad back then you would have never married me," she said. True, that. With some Polish ancestors sprinkled in and a Socialist Labor Union leader for a father she must have been an leper in my paternal grandfather's perception. My parents had met in Kiel in 1943, after my father's ship, the battlecruiser Gneisenau, came in to repair severe bomb damage. They married within a week of meeting each other at a dance. They had a total of three weeks as a married couple before my father sailed to Norway in the battleship Tirpitz. She never saw him again until late 1948, after his return from captivity. I can still remember my grandfather's dislike for my mother. It was something that even I as a small child had always sensed. We were on the beltway now, heading north. There was not much in the way of sights while driving but I would show them the Mall, Georgetown, Rock Creek Park, and maybe even Shenandoah Park over the next days. Exit 36 led us to Old Georgetown Road and I headed north for another half mile before turning right, into Grosvenor Lane. A little downhill and we arrived at the apartment complex. One of my neighbors, a friend of Shyam, was visiting his family in India and he had left me the keys to his apartment for my visitors. First though, I showed them my apartment eliciting appreciative comments from all of them. We unloaded their suitcases in the extra apartment and planned to drive Mrs. Langner to a motel on Rockville Pike when the door opened and Lillian came in (she had a key, of course). For the next ten minutes Babylon ruled as my excited parents forgot all the English they ever had and inundated Lillian with a flood of Bavarian dialect. Lillian had a good grasp of German from her grandfather but the dialect was too much for her. My sisters tried their schoolroom English on her and at least they were able to convey what they wanted to say for the younger females were soon in a group hug. Finally, I was able to pry Lillian loose and led her to the side. "Lillian, please meet Veronika Langner, your grandfather's schatz." Lillian's eyes popped open, but then a smile broke out on her face and she hugged the surprised older woman. "Das wird meine Grossvater macken sehr glucklick," she managed to say in her accented German. "Er sprickt often von Sie." "Oh, I speak English," Veronica answered. "I worked for the US Army in Ulm until I retired. I was so happy to hear that Robert is alive! He was my first boyfriend no matter what people said. Is he well?" Lillian beamed. "Why don't we find out? I have a car outside." After giving me a quick kiss Lillian dragged Mrs. Langner from my apartment and to the elevator leaving us behind slightly dazed. "You, dear brother, are so lucky!" Barbara accused me. "How could you snare a girl like her?" "My great personal charm?" I hazarded. "Yeah, right. What drug did you use on the poor girl?" Irene threw in and in a moment we were in a full blown verbal sparring. It was always like that. We were just three years apart and had constantly been needling each other for as long as we could remember. Lillian was back in less than thirty minutes and her eyes were brimming. She went straight to my parents and hugged them. "Sie haben meine Grossvater so froh gemackt!" she assured them. "What did he say?" I asked. "Nothing, he just stared and his mouth opened and closed," Lillian grinned. "It was Veronika who just went up to him and hugged him. I don't think she will need a motel room. I guess we better hurry with our wedding or my grandfather will beat us to it." "What did Liliane say?" my mother asked and I translated, causing smug smiles on both my parents' faces. The wedding was set for the following Saturday. It was to be a civil ceremony in Max and Ruth's garden. It was late April and the weather was sunny and pleasantly warm. I was wearing the same suit I had worn when I defended my thesis, a single breasted, dark grey wool affair with pin stripes and Lillian would sport a burgundy costume which fit her pixyish looks perfectly. We had decided to go simple and to restrict attendance to only the closest relatives and a few friends. Shyam was to be my best man and he was even more nervous than I. "Man, I need to find a bathroom," he moaned once again. We went into the house – Lillian had not come down yet – and Shyam found the john occupied. There was another bathroom off the first floor guest room I knew of and I showed Shyam the way. Standing in the guest room I just wanted to leave for the garden again when I suddenly heard Max' pained voice seemingly coming from ground level. It had to be the heating duct. I could hear him clearly if a little muted. "Now you tell me? How can you do this to the boy?" "He offered it, Papa!" That was Lillian. "Because you lied to him! What sort of girl are you? You're not married yet and you cuckold your husband?" "I love him! I spent just one evening with him and I knew that I wanted him. Theo was history already. I only wanted to end it without a scene. If I had told Rudy about Theo it would have been over between us." "Well, it is now. I'll not let you run all over a decent man like Rudy." A cry sounded and some shuffle. "Let go, Lilly. You are my daughter and I love you, but I will not stand aside while you cheat on a good man!" "Papa, don't! I love him! Don't destroy that!" A door upstairs slammed and I hurried from the guest room. I left the room, just as Max came bounding down the stairs but not before I heard Lillian's sobs through the ducts. Max saw me and he blushed beet red. "Ahem, Rudy, we need to talk. Can you please come along?" I had to think quickly. Max would call off the wedding. That would devastate Lilly and it would make it very hard for us to stay together. It would also be a major embarrassment for all of us, further destroying any chance of a future with Lillian. I had to make a decision. I followed Max into his first floor study. He closed the door behind us. Turning to me, he sighed. Before he could say a thing, I spoke up. "Max, I know," I said as calmly as I could. "I've known almost from the start." "You ... What... ?" "Lillian thinks the baby is from a guy named Theo, a married guy." "But ... but why are you even here?" "Why am I here? Because I love Lillian. There was no cheating. We were not a couple then. Yes, maybe she lied about the baby and at one point she'll have to come clean. I'm not so sure about the baby anyway, the way Lilly calculated her cycle. But I know that she loves me. Lillian and I can make it work, Max. If you go and cancel now, we'll never get over that. Please tell her you thought it over." "Rudy, how can this work when all is based on a lie?" "Who knows? There is a chance that the child is from me. How can anybody tell right now? Did she tell you why she thinks it wasn't me?" Max shook his head. "She claims she was sure at first it had to be you. She thought Weissman had used protection. Only he didn't or rather his condom broke. By her calculation it is rather unlikely that you are the father." Okay, so Theo Weaselham's real name was Weissman. I swallowed the misgivings and forced myself to shrug. "What if I want to run that risk?" Max stared at me. "Do you love her, or are you afraid of me?" In spite of everything, I had to smile. "Both, probably. At first, I was afraid of the confrontation. You know what I mean. Lillian claims I'm the father, I say no, and for the next three years we fight over it until the tests can be run. We could not work together with that cloud over our heads, and more importantly: what if I'm the father? Any chance of building something with Lilly would be kaputt by then. I care too much for Lillian to let her slip away from me." Max shook his head. "You are one crazy Kraut," he sighed. "Go back into the garden; I'll talk to Lilly." He paused. "You're a damn fine fellow and I'll make sure that my daughter will remember it." When Max led Lillian into the garden I could tell by her red eyes that the last hour had been hard on her. Seeing me, she stood straight though and gave me a smile so full of love that I knew then and there that my decision had been right. A judge, a distant relative of Ruth Rosenzweig, asked us to step forward. Pressing my arm Lillian stood at my side while the worthy judge performed the ceremony with dignified efficiency. We both had to sign, followed by Shyam and by Lillian's Maid of Honour, a fellow UVC graduate named Debra Watson. Then we were pronounced Husband and Wife. I remember to this day how Lillian pulled my head down and whispered fervently in my ear. "We're going to be so happy, Rudy. I love you!" I believed her then and to this day, I never had a reason to regret my decisions. But that's getting way ahead in my story. ------- Chapter 6: The power of genetics Lillian and I moved together into my apartment on Grosvenor Lane. We eschewed a honeymoon figuring that the upcoming birth would require at least two or three weeks leave from the lab. I just did not want to fall behind while still in my first year as a post doc. One thing that changed was that I was awarded a fellowship. I guess, Max pulled a few strings. It was not so much more than the fellowship I had from a German agency but it was in Dollars, insulating me against the ups and downs of the German Mark against the Dollar, something that had kept screwing up my financial planning in the first year. We had decided that Lillian would take a one year break. With both her parents, her grandparents and me around she would then be able to apply for teaching positions in the vicinity. Meanwhile she expanded on her German, planning to add German to her teaching qualifications. She insisted on speaking it at least one day a week at home but also when visiting with her grandfather and Veronika. Yes, Robert Rosenzweig and Veronika Langner had decided that 49 years of separation had been more than enough. In no time at all, Veronika liquidated all her assets back in Germany and returned to Bethesda with two suitcases and a teller check representing her lifetime savings. I admired her for the courage it took to burn all the bridges to follow her heart. Their wedding in early August made the local news once their history became known. Robert and Veronika were featured in the local evening news and from there the media interest mushroomed. It was a great human interest story and they almost made it into Johnny Carson's Tonight Show for a five minute interview, but it was axed at the last minute. They still spent a lovely few days in L.A., paid for by NBC. Lillian and I had a busy social calendar that summer. I had to meet all her friends and her close and distant relatives who for the most part accepted me instantly. I also had two friends visit me from Germany who stayed at our place for two weeks. Lillian took over the part of visitors' guide while I was at work and she enjoyed the contact and the activity. By late August, however, her growing bulk began to hamper her activities and we prepared for the final countdown. When Lillian went into labor on September 12, I rushed her down into the District and to the Columbia Hospital for Women where on the same day Veronica Bernreiter was born, all six pounds two ounces and twenty inches of her. We had easily settled on the name Veronica, both to give Robert's new wife a feeling of acceptance and for the symbolism of her enduring love for Lillian's grandfather. It was exhilarating and frightening to hold little Ronnie in my arms and to feel the responsibility for her settle on my thinking. Believe me, in those minutes and hours after Ronnie's birth I never once thought about whether she was my true daughter. I had watched Lillian's tummy grow, I had given her back rubs, I helped her around during the last days and now I had coached her through birth. Lillian was mine, Ronnie was mine, and Fuck You Very Much, Theo! As planned, I took two weeks off. It was good timing, too, for I had finished most experimental work for my first paper in Max' laboratory. Robert's wedding present for us, a brand new Macintosh Plus, came in handily as it allowed me to write draft versions of the manuscript when Lillian and Ronnie slept which they did a lot during those first days and weeks. When I returned to work Robert and Veronica took over the pampering. Returning from the lab there was always some tasty home cooked meal for me left by Veronika. This gave me enough time for some serious cuddling with Lillian. I also spent hours gazing at Ronnie. There was something about her face, even then at a few weeks of age, that touched me even though I did not know why. Then, I think if was some time in mid-November, a letter from my mother arrived. She included a few freshly made copies of old photographs, mostly childhood pictures of me, but also two or three images of my father and my mother. One photograph in particular caught my eye. It was a picture of my mother as a baby, taken in 1926. The black and white photograph did not show the hair color and the dark blonde of my mother looked almost black. Suddenly I was not looking at my mother but at Ronnie. The eyes and the smile were strikingly similar and my heart leaped in this moment. I knew how much infants change in the early weeks and months but from this moment on I was convinced that Lillian's assumptions were wrong: I was Ronnie's biological father. Thinking it would ease Lillian's conscience I showed her the picture commenting on how much Ronnie looked like my mother but I had figured wrongly. Lillian had a hard time fighting her tears before she excused herself and headed for the bathroom. I contemplated speaking out about what I knew to get all the secrets into the open but when Lillian emerged from the bathroom she looked so shaken that I put it off. ------- In the following years there never appeared to be an opportunity to bring up the issue. I admit that I was a coward. When we were happy I was afraid to ruin it. When we were stressed I did not want to heap even more stress on us. Finally without anybody knowing about it I decided to perform a private paternity test. The polymerase chain reaction, PCR, had entered into mainstream biology. It was not yet accepted as evidence in forensic biology but I did not need a 99.999% certainty. I had my chance when Lillian had a bad cold early in 1991 with a sore throat and all. I took a swab of her tongue, ostensibly to look for streptococcal infection, but I also used it for DNA typing along with my own and Ronnie's material. I did it on one weekend and then again on the next. The results were indeed unanimous. Ronnie shared almost all known markers with Lillian and me. According to the standards the certainty was well over 99%. Once I had done the testing I felt bad. I had been sure anyway. Why do the test? How could I ever bring this up with Lillian? I thought long about this sensitive question but I knew now that I could not keep it from her any longer. I saw that whenever I held Ronnie Lillian would slip into a sad mood. I had to take that shadow away from her. Finally I had an idea. I had been assigned a course in Molecular Genetics at the University of Maryland, College Park, where I tried to get a foothold in American academia. I could extend the typing to Max, Ruth, and Robert on Lillian's side, and to my parents and siblings. The results could then be used as a model case for my lecture. I sent swab tubes to Munich by airmail and asked my family for the favor pretending this to pertain to my work. Max, Ruth and Robert also played along and another week later the samples from Munich arrived. At this time I had taken Max into my confidence. Together we did the testing. We assembled it all into neat presentation figures and had color slides made at the photography unit. This was before the advent of Powerpoint or similar tools, and it took three days for the slides to arrive, barely before the place closed down for the Holidays. We were having a Holiday dinner at Max' house on Christmas Day and then, as arranged, Max asked me en passant how I was coming along with my lecture material. "Oh, great. The family tree thing worked out perfectly," I answered before seemingly remembering something. "Oh, Lilly, before I forget: you don't mind if I use those results for my lecture? I could take another family but it's so much easier to get this from you and the others." "What results?" Lillian asked sort of perplexed. "I used material from us, from your parents and from my family to establish genetic lineage. It's a great example and it'll show the students the principles of applied human genetics. Ronnie has inherited almost half her markers from my mother and almost none from my father. Max and Ruth share the other half about evenly. It's classic random genetic recombination. I hope you won't mind?" Lillian turned deathly pale. "You did what?" "A simple genetic lineage test based on PCR and Restriction Fragment Length Polymorphism. I wanted to do it with our family because, you know, other people may be afraid that something may come out. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge, eh?" My little Monty Python impersonation did little to put the color back in Lillian's face. "S-so Ronnie is really our d-daughter? No mix-up at the hospital?" I have to give her credit: she was thinking on her feet in spite of the shock she was in. I laughed. It sounded forced in my own ears. "Yup. It's a good thing I didn't shirk my responsibilities. You could have nailed me with any of those new paternity tests. They are based on the same techniques, you know." "A good thing, yes," Lillian assured me with a shaky voice. By now, she had tears in her eyes and was clearly on the verge of a breakdown. She stood up and looked at me. "Rudy, could you please come for a little walk with me? Mama, Papa, can you look after Ronnie for a half hour?" Max nodded approvingly. "You two go and talk. We'll keep the food hot. Don't be too long." Lillian pulled me after her. We dressed and started to walk down the residential street. I remember the trees and bushes had a sprinkle of snow on them as we walked silently at first. Then Lillian pulled herself together. Her deep breath showed in the cold. "Rudy, I have a confession to make. It's been on my conscience for three years but I could not talk about it." "That sounds ominous," I remarked. "It may be. First, you must believe me that from the day we met you have been the man I wanted. I love you, and the last years have made me love you even more." "But?" "No but. I love you, period. Here's what I need to tell you. When we first met at the Christmas Party I was still in a relationship, sort of. He was a faculty member at UVC, Theo Weissman. We had been together all fall. He was separated from his wife, or so he said. He was charming but I wasn't really in love with him or anything. It was more like he was an outlet for me, for sex, you know. My ... my first boyfriend, he bragged to all his friends that he had nailed me. That's what he called it. With Theo I knew he would not, could not blab about us having sex, being my professor and all that. "Then I met you and we clicked. Remember that first night? I had never felt like that before. I was confused when I drove back to Charlottesville. Could I really fall for a guy in the course of one evening? The next days gave me a clue. I kept feeling your touch on my skin. I kept thinking of you. It was in that mindset that I told Theo we'd split up. He whined and moaned and kept imploring me how much he loved me. So I – I'm so sorry, Rudy – I thought I'd let him have sex once more, you know, to end this on a friendly note. It was so stupid. "When he started on me I already knew it was a bad mistake. I couldn't feel a fucking thing. I just kept hoping he'd finish soon. When he did I just rolled out from under him and went to the bathroom to shower. I didn't notice anything wrong then. "Later we went out for dinner for one last time and then I went to bed resolved to call you. Well, that went wrong because I woke up remembering I had a graded test the next morning. With all the last minute cramming and the stress I crashed the next evening. Then other stuff happened and I put off the call. Well, until I missed my period, that is. That's when I called you. Really, I firmly believed it was you. We hadn't used protection and Theo always did. You came down to Charlottesville and we had this good talk, and I felt everything would be alright. "That went to hell on the next Saturday. I met Theo on the street and we talked, you know, like former friends. I somehow mentioned I was pregnant and he started to moan and groan. Then he came out with it. When he pulled off the condom after our last time he found a tear in the tip and the stuff was leaking out. I was so shocked I almost collapsed on the street. Theo helped me back to my apartment. I only kept thinking: 'Oh no, not that! Not now, after I found you!' "He was pretty much gobsmacked as well and all he did was an offer to find a top-notch abortion clinic in New York and he'd pay for it. I knew already that his bullshit about being separated from his wife was a lie. Once I came over my shock I was so angry I could have wrung his neck! To make a long story short I threw him out. I told him I had found a better man and kicked him out. He left and I sat there racking my brain over what to do, and then," she sniffed, "then you rang at my door. I was so happy to see you. I was so selfish. I did not think of you in that moment. I only knew I wanted you to be the one to help me through that mess." "Don't call Ronnie a mess," I admonished her gently. Lillian stared at me. "I only confessed this to Papa on the day of our wedding. He was terribly disappointed in me and he wanted to tell you everything. My whole world collapsed. You would hate me and leave me. But then he returned and told me he had reconsidered. He made me promise that I'd never make you unhappy, that I'd always be the best wife I could." "Well, you kept that promise, didn't you?" She looked at me anxiously. "What now?" "Well, I'm glad that you finally found the courage to tell me. Is this why you were always morose when I played with Ronnie?" "You picked up on that, huh? I couldn't help it. Whenever I saw how great you were with her I felt like the worst slut on earth. Again, what will we do?" "Lillian, let's assume for a moment you had not become pregnant back then. Would you have called?" With glistening eyes, she nodded. "Yes, as soon as I would have been back home." "No doubt?" "I guess no. The whole pregnancy thing sort of pushed us towards marriage, but I believe we would have ended there anyway. I cared for you." "Do you feel bad about being married to me?" "No!" she shouted. Self-conscious, she toned it down. "No. Not once. I told you. Maybe we were forced but it was a good thing for me. I truly love you. Can you please, please, forgive me?" "Lillian, I love you too. Of course I forgive you. I think I would have married you even believing I wasn't Ronnie's father. You know, as far as I'm concerned I came out of this with a wife I love. There is nothing to forgive and there was no harm done. You even came clear about it today without need." "So, there's no fallout? Honest?" "None. Think of all the good that came out of it! And not just for us. Think of Robert and Vroni! There is just one thing I'd like you to consider." "What?" "Ronnie is almost three. Don't you think it's time for her to have a little brother or sister?" Lillian's face cleared and a smile spread over her lips and eyes. She nodded. "I'd love that. Rudy, will you hug me please?" She clung to me, all the way back to Max' house. ------- Chapter 7: Science project December 2003 I was returning home from work. The weeks before the holidays are always the busiest, what with gift hunting, grading tests before the students went home and submitting the year end reports to the faculty. I had only recently been given a chair in the faculty against some heavy competition and I felt the need to justify the appointment. Things were going great though and I was looking forward to a few days away from the treadmill, time spent with Lillian and the kids. This would be Ronnie's last Christmas before college and we were conscious of the fact that our baby would leave the nest soon. Once at home, there seemed to be a thousand things that only I could answer, solve or deal with. Martin's internet access did not work (plug the damn cable into the outlet!), Lisa's bicycle had a flat (tomorrow!), and the light bulb in the baking oven was dead (No, not tomorrow! How am I to watch the roast without a light?). After changing the light bulb I was at least eligible for a kiss from Lilly. "At least, you are good for something," she teased me while Veronika Rosenzweig smiled at our antics. She has been living with us for the past five years, ever since Robert died. The kids love her, and she and Lilly have developed a strong bond. Having her around has really helped Lilly with her job and she was slated for the assistant principal's position after the following summer. Finally I was allowed to change out of my work clothes and put on blue jeans and a sweater. I scanned the news on the internet and logged on to my favorite story board, but all too soon Lilly called me down for dinner. There, I saw Ronnie for the first time that evening, and she gave me a beaming smile. "This'll make you proud, Papa! I'll get a special citation for my research project. They sent it out to some big wig professor and he gave it a great big thumbs-up!" I was elated of course. Ronnie was into science big time and she had asked for my help in compiling a special project in genetics. I had only given her an outline of what to do and she filled in the blanks on her own. She wrote the report all by herself, too. In a way, she had repeated my secret pedigree analysis of fifteen years back using more markers, better technology and more advanced analysis software. The results were the same: Ronnie shared almost 40% of her alleles with my mother. Well, you can also look at pictures of my mother as a girl and you can tell the same even without a degree in genetics. "That'll help you with college applications," I said. "Are you sure the big wig wasn't your grandfather?" "Hah! As if I needed nepotism!" Ronnie shot back. "Let's face it, I'm a genius." Her mischievous laugh was infective but Lisa and Martin only rolled their eyes in the expression of annoyance they so often showed when their big sister had another achievement to present. Lisa summed up their take. "So you proved that you're Mom and Dad's daughter. Duh! That's the big deal?" For a moment my eyes and Lilly's locked but then we smiled and shrugged. It really wasn't a big deal, not anymore, and not for a long time. June 2008 We are dressed to the nines, all of us. Max and Ruth are sitting next to us and beyond them, Veronika is sitting in her wheelchair. She is a bit wobbly on her legs these days, and the wheelchair is a precaution. My parents are sitting to the right, watching in rapt attention as the Dean asks one student after the other to the stage. Ronnie is one of the first, and when the Dean announces that she is passing summa cum laude we all have tears of pride in our eyes. I feel Lilly's hand pressing into my arm. "That's my baby," she whispers. "My baby!" Ronnie waves her diploma at us and grins in her outrageous way, pumping her fist for good measure. She's not really a model of modesty, is my eldest. We have to wait for over an hour for the ceremony to end, but we are content. Lilly cuddles against me. We attract a few scandalized looks when she pulls my face down to give me one of her toe-curling kisses, and I know that tonight will be rewarding. "Don't drink and don't eat too much," she instructs me. "I have plans for you." "Oh God, not again!" I mock-groan, causing her to giggle. "Will it be anything like yesterday?" "Better," she whispers. "I can't believe you kept this from me all those years!" You see, yesterday evening, in our hotel room, I finally confessed all my schemings to Lilly. We'd had wine for dinner and when we went upstairs to our room, we talked about how things had happened from our respective viewpoints. I had not planned to spill the beans, but I somehow talked myself into a corner, and under her relentless questioning I confessed everything. At first, Lilly was shocked that I had known about her deceit from the start. "Why on God's green earth did you offer to marry me then?" she asked with some exasperation. I was still in honesty mode. "You said to Theo that you'd be the best wife for me that I could dream of. I knew if I said anything we would never be able to get over it. I simply wanted the best wife I could dream of." Who says, men can't say the right thing? Lilly crawled on top of me, positively purring. "You felt that way? Me, too. I didn't want to lose you. And God, just think of it: we could have really screwed up our lives and Ronnie's. So you pulled a quick one on me?" "I had to. I couldn't risk losing you. I told Max the same when he wanted to call off the wedding." Now, she groaned. "You talked him out of it?" "Yeah, and he called me a stupid Kraut for my troubles," I laughed, relieved that Lillian was not mad at me. "He was right, you know, but at least you are my stupid Kraut. Damn, Rudy, I have to get back at you somehow. So this whole PCR project for your lecture was a scam to let me know the results of the test?" "Pretty much. I had to tell you somehow. You were hurting so much." "Aawwwh! All that work just to make me feel better! That was so sweet!" she purred again while her eyes became smoky. "I guess, now is the time for payback! The way I see it you'll be needing Vroni's wheelchair tomorrow!" In a second flat, she had me on my back and pinned me down. Okay, I could have resisted. I have almost seventy pounds on her. However, I may be a stupid Kraut but not that stupid. I have come to know and appreciate this sort of mood in Lilly. Well, I'm not needing a wheelchair but I am certainly glad to have reserved seating. And so I sit in the warm June sun, happy to hold Lillian in my arms and anticipating a repeat of last night's delights. Given that our relationship was built on nothing but mutual deceit we have not fared too badly, even if I say so myself. Another year and we'll have our Silver Anniversary. I only hope to have another twenty-five wonderful years with Lillian. She turns a little and winks. "Is there anything else you want to tell me, now that we are in confession mood?" I nod and smile down at her. She understands and smiles back. "Yeah, that! I love you, too." Life is good. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2010-12-18 Last Modified: 2010-12-24 / 09:59:10 am ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------