Some time later, I felt her try to push herself off of me; rather than let her go, I asked "What is it?"
I could hear the embarrassment in her voice as she told me "I want to dry my eyes… and I need to blow my nose."
Reaching out to the corner of the bed, I managed to pull the corner of the top sheet up, then over to where we were. Putting it in her hand, I told her "Here — use this, so you don't have to get up if you don't want to."
It took her a second to realize what I'd given her to use, but she raised up enough to dry her eyes, and mop up the puddle of her tears on my chest. When she started to move to blow her nose, she stopped, and looked at me. Trying to cheer her up a little bit, I turned my head and made a show of blocking my view of her with one hand. She laughed, and a moment later I heard as she got her sinuses cleared out. Once she was done, she tossed the corner of the sheet back toward where it had been; after laying down on me again, I heard her tell me "Thank you, Uncle Ted."
"That's okay, dear. Do you want to talk to me about it?"
A few seconds went by before I heard her answer "Yeah, I do."
When she realized that I was patiently waiting to hear what she had to say, she told me "You were right — sometimes I do feel alone, and left out, and all that. It's not like I'm being ignored, either; it's worse than that, because it feels like I'm being forgotten! If people were ignoring me, then they'd at least have to know that I was there; but the other way, it's like I don't even exist. I know that Donna has to do a lot of things that she doesn't like because she's the oldest; but she also gets to be the first one to do new things or something different, too — and there's plenty of times that I wish that I could be like that. Yeah, the being told to do all that stuff can't be fun -
but the getting to go first can't be bad, either."
After taking a breath, she continued "Wendy used to get out of a lot of stuff just because she was the littlest, but not so much, now. But she's still the youngest, and there's plenty of times that she doesn't have to do something Donna and I do because of it — even though there really isn't any reason she should. Sometimes it feels like I have to do everything I don't want to, and don't get to do any of the stuff that I would — it's like, if it's good, I can't have any; and if it's bad, I'm automatically included… and it sucks!"
I just had to smile at hearing what she thought of it, but managed not to actually laugh. I was still paying attention as Karen said "I was glad to hear you tell me that I could come to visit or talk to you any time. Yeah, Donna told us you said it was okay for us to come down here, and all that, but I really wasn't sure. It isn't anything you've said or done, Uncle Ted, it's just me — I have a hard time believing that it's okay for me to do things, sometimes. And the bigger and more important it is to me, the tougher it is… and… and except for Mom, you're the most important and specialest thing in my life, ever. I didn't think you'd get mad at me, or be upset, or anything like that; I just didn't want to, you know, bother you. I'm so used to people paying attention to Donna or Wendy that sometimes it feels like if I want or need something, I'd be getting in the way of the person taking care of one of them. But when you told me, yourself, that you love me, and that you'd like it if I was with you… that made it okay, because you've never lied to me about anything, so if you tell me that you like it when I'm with you, then I know you're telling the truth; and that if you say it's okay for me to come and visit, I know that it really is. And talking to you like this… it feels good, knowing that you aren't going to get upset with me, and that you understand, at least a little bit, what it's like for me, being in the middle."
After taking a deep breath, she continued by telling me "I think maybe I'm as pretty as Donna"
— "Not 'maybe'… you are." I informed her — "even though my tits aren't as big as hers, and I don't have as much hair as she does, yet. But I see how much difference there is between me and Wendy, and I know it'll be okay when I'm grown up. Donna has started talking to me more about the stuff she learns, and what she's thinking and feeling and everything, and that's nice. But it's when I'm with you that I feel the best inside — you know, happy and everything; because when it's you and me, I know I don't have to be embarrassed or ashamed for not knowing things; or for the different things I feel in my heart, and my body. And the way that you pay attention to me when we're together feels so good, and nice, because you only talk to me about me, and not Donna or Wendy. When we do things together, you know, touching and everything… you're always so patient and gentle with me; I know you do it because you love me, and want to make me happy, and you're always so careful not to do anything to hurt me, or make me afraid. I'm always so happy when you include me in stuff — or at least let me know that it's okay if I want to do it, too. Like last weekend, when you said it was okay for me to stay and see what happened when you squirted your juice; I thought I just wanted to see what it was like when a guy's penis gets hard, but once we got started, I realized that I wanted to see that part, too. I don't think that Donna would have told me to leave, but when you invited me to stay, then it made me feel like I was doing something special, too, like Donna was. I knew it wasn't going to be as much, but I didn't want it to be — that little bit extra was fine."
I kissed the top of her head, and when she raised it to look at me, I could see the smile on her face that let me know she liked what I'd done. After she put her head back down, she told me
"That's something else that you do that tells me how much you love me, and that I'm important to you — the way you give me kisses like you just did, and pat me on the butt, and things like that."
She paused for a moment, then said "Sometimes, it would be nice if you did other stuff, too. I know you don't want to push me to do anything, and I like that; but if you wanted to do other things like we've already done, then it would be okay if you went first. I didn't say anything about it to you before because I didn't want to feel like I was bothering you; but since you told me it's okay to talk to you, and tell you things, and all that… well, I just want you to know it's okay with me if you wanted to do something like put your hand on my boob, instead of waiting for ME to put it there for you. I know you aren't going to hurt me, or start just… grabbing at me all the time, so it's okay. Like I told you, it's nice sitting next to you, 'cause you make me feel warm and happy; and if you're the one to touch me first, then I know that you're happy I'm there, and that you haven't forgotten about me."
I waited a bit, but it didn't seem that there was anything else she wanted to say. I gave her a gentle hug, and asked "Are you feeling better now, honey?"
"Yeah — lots better, Uncle Ted."
I reached down to give her little tush a soft pat before I told her "I'm glad, dear. I love you, and it makes me feel good when you do."
We stayed like that for a few more minutes before she told me "I think I'm ready to go to sleep now, Uncle Ted. It's nice having you hold me like this, but I'm starting to feel sleepy, now."
After giving her another hug, I answered "Of course, dear.", and released her from my arms. She eased herself off of me, then moved to lay on her side — and looked back at me expectantly.
Smiling, I rolled over and got myself spooned against her again — including putting my arm around her and holding her breast in my hand. She put her hand on top of mine, and told me "I love you, Uncle Ted, and it feels nice to be here like this with you."