I felt her ease out of the bed, still in her red and white stripies, zipped up almost to the top, somewhere between her delicate virginal breasts that I'd been dreaming about. I opened my eyes and realized it was very early. There was a digital clock.

            "Going swimming with mom?"

            "Sorry, did I wake you?"

            "Leaving my arms woke me."

            It wasn't yet dawn, but there was enough light through her bedroom windows to let me see her stinking cute figure.

            She went into her closet and came out a few seconds later dressed in sweats and a sweatshirt, obviously the swimsuit underneath was hers this time. She was stuffing her hair into a bathing cap. "It's just the family pool."

            I rolled over and stretched. The stupid stripies looked way better on her than they did on me. But wearing them had been really amazingly fun. Silly kind of kid fun, sexy kind of adult fun.

            I didn't answer her and that was consent enough. But when she slipped out, I got dressed, left the gigantic mess and headed up to Kell's for a shower and smoothie. I determined to figure out the porn thing without her there.

            So I called my dad.

            That's not a completely natural response for me, but he was an active member of the church, so he would know more of where Aubrey was coming from. And he would be up at five in the morning. I sat at the kitchen bar, staring out at the tops of barely lit trees, and listened to the ringing of his phone.

            "Rafe?"

            "Hi dad. How are you?"

            "I'm good, how are you?" Dad's voice was familiar, comforting, and yes--- authoritative. I had never wanted to hurt him, and was glad for his continued acceptance of my lifestyle changes. I had deviated greatly from my parent's lives. Theirs hadn't been that great anyway.

            "Good. So, I'm going on tour next week."

            "Do you have time to come over and say good-bye? I guess you'll be out of the country for a couple of months."

            "Yeah, I plan to come over. Listen, I'm actually calling for a reason, and I think I might need your advice." My dad was also the one person that I knew who--on his side of the fence--didn't lecture me about my side of the fence. It was simple good parenting. I knew I could count on him not to judge.

            And he knew all my vices. He'd struggled with some himself.

            "Okay. I've got some time." His voice was reassuring, and I sensed he was putting down whatever he'd been reading, probably the scriptures.

            I wanted to get right to the point, since Aubrey had said she didn't swim that long. She'd likely be back soon, and although I could go in a room, and I knew she'd respect my privacy, I also wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

            "So, I've met this girl."

            I heard Dad's snort. I didn't usually ask for relationship advice from him. Financial advice, or career advice, or technological advice, yes.

            He knew it as well. His own weird relationship was testimony enough to his inability to give good advice in that quarter. Besides I had way more experience with failed relationships than he did. "Hm?"

            I sighed. "She's different than every other girl I've been with. I'm not sleeping with her for one thing. And I've known her for four real days, although they were split up by about three months."

            "The not sleeping with her, is this her choice or yours?"

            "It's both of our choices. She's very--- moral-- shall we say?-- And I respect that. But actually, it's deeper than that. It trails back to my childhood if you can believe that. She's Mormon."

            I heard his indrawn breath, and his curiosity got the better of him. "Where the heck did you meet a good little Mormon girl? You're not going back to church are you?"

            "If I was, you'd know it already!" I laughed with a sadly self-deprecating grunt. I hated that this information always caused his spirits to plummet. He wanted for one of his kids to be active in church, but so far none of us were. The idea of living our parent's life was all tied up with the church in our minds. It may not be the fault of the church--or even the doctrine--but somehow, for all of us, it sprang from there.

            "Whew! I didn't want to pin my hopes on the wrong thing!" He said and laughed this fake little cover up laugh and I shook my head, not really even knowing what he meant for sure.

            "So, picture this good little Mormon girl. She's not into premarital sex, at all. And I'm still holding on. And she's pretty doctrinally sound. So, there's a few things I've missed over the years. For instance--the church's stance on pornography. What can you tell me about that?"

            Dad knew I had a porn problem if you wanted to call it that. I personally didn't feel it was a problem. I admitted that I liked it, I didn't see it as a problem.

            "Well, the church teaches that pornography is evil. As you know, some of what I deal with is related to porn. I'm a recovering porn addict, Rafe. No surprise there. So, my ideas about it are now equal to what the church teaches. Porn tears good men away from their families. It is degrading and base to both men and women. It keeps people apart, rather than help them get closer, and it doesn't have anything to do with marriage and commitment and love--it has a lot to do with lust and self-gratification." He hesitated and then dove in to the crux of the problem for me. "Your girl found out about your problem?"

            "I showed her my videos. I told her my biggest faults."

            "Your biggest faults? Faults you don't feel are really faults, but lifestyle differences?" This was said in all earnestness, based on previous conversations about it-- he wasn't being sarcastic.

            "Drug use, sleeping around, the ink and the porn."

            If I'd been sitting in the same room with him, I'd have witnessed the narrowing of the eyes as he sank deeper into figuring it out.

            "She wants to understand your choices? Or what led you to make them? Or she wants you to stop?

            "Probably all of those things. Would that be about right for an indoctrinated little Mormon girl?"

            "You say indoctrinated as if she doesn't believe it for herself."

            "Well, I slammed right up against church teachings---"

            "She spouted doctrine to you? Who is this girl? How did you meet her?"

            "I shut her down, dad, I didn't let her get that far, you know me and preaching. I can't take it. And yeah, she's my neighbor in Malibu."

            "Your neighbor, down here?" My parents still live in the house I grew up in too, although my room has been turned into a guest room and any traces of my life there have long since been replaced with antiques, since my mom is a collector.

            "Yeah. She's my neighbor."

            "Oh wow."

            "What do you mean oh wow? You're not helping me."

            "What do you want me to say, Rafe? You know all the answers to these questions. You're really just calling me to tell me you've found somebody who might be a little more serious than your previous flings. I'm guessing it's really bothering you. Because you don't know what to do."

            I was flabbergasted that he understood that part so well. He nailed it, he really did, and for once I saw my own ability to judge people quickly and succinctly as genetic.

            "Listen son. If you really want to know this girl and have her know you, you're going to have to make some changes. If you're not willing to make those changes then she's not your gal. Because as you know, staunch members of this church don't capitulate. And if she's not just out of Young Women's, but a grown up, then she will be even less likely to change her views for yours."

            I was afraid of that. All of it. She'd said we had diametrically opposed views, and weren't willing to change. I knew some people respected each other's views, but not if they thought those views were detrimental to the relationship.

            "Can you see marrying this girl? Having a kid with her? What? She's going to raise your kid as a Mormon? She'll teach her kid that you have bad habits that you won't stop?"

            "I don't necessarily believe my views need to be stopped."

            "I know. Somehow you've convinced yourself that some of your bad habits aren't all that bad."

            I winced. Dad and I have had this conversation before. Every new tattoo I get; every music video I paraded about in bed with a different model; every gig I did with my pants undone, and my chest bare--singing the most provocative lyrics I could come up with--he couldn't even see through them to the great story lines, the deep social issues I tried to address--from yes-- a moral standpoint. The terrible tragedy of domestic abuse, drug abuse, the character of those in authority misusing their authority, the full prisons.

            "I just relate to the guy on the street, dad. I relate to those who have issues, real life problems, not always the ones they make themselves. Although I understand that kind too."

            He snorted. I actually heard him snort. "Tell that to your new girlfriend."

            I thought about having that discussion with Aubrey. I mean yesterday had almost been a fight, a disagreement. Yuck. I didn't want to argue with her.

            And yet--I did want to argue with her. I wanted to argue, and then have a pillow fight, and sleep together. It was so worth it.

            "Yeah." I said, thinking it was time to go. I might have to call one of the guys for this. I looked at my watch.... they weren't up. Damn.

            "Rafe. This girl." He sighed. "Don't break her heart. Okay."

            I hung my head, thinking he'd nailed it all again. I didn't want to break her heart, and I felt---really wondered if we were a set up for heartbreak. The thought made me feel nauseated.

            "Rafe. Is she into you?"

            "Maybe."

            "Please son, don't hurt her."

            "Dad! I know, okay! I don't want to break her heart."

            "Well, your issue isn't so much all the things you listed as your flaws. But your anxiety over commitment. And if she's into you... and you're running away..."

            "I know!" I felt the exasperation getting the best of me. Are you kidding? He's not here warning me about falling for some religious fanatic Mormon girl, but warning me not to break her heart.

            He sighed. "Yeah, I know you know. But you still do it."

            "Dad."

            "You know it's true, and it would be a crime to take advantage of her."

            "Gees, dad, whose side are you on?"

            "Hers, if she's everything you say she is."

            "I said she's my neighbor. That's it."

            "You said she's got issues with your porn problem."

            "I don't have a porn problem. This is pointless. Now I'm pissed."

            "Well, you called your dad, for heaven's sake, what did you expect?"

            I grunted, still hanging my head. "What if.... she's not that into me, and it's me that's chasing her."

            He was silent for so long, I thought we'd been disconnected.

            Finally he answered, slowly. "Rafe, son, if you even think you might be serious about her, please go see your Bishop."

            "Is that what I have to do? So they can kick me out of the club? A club I don't even want to be in anyway?"

            "The church isn't a club and you don't get kicked out. Bishop's are loving people, compassionate, and they know how to connect you with the atonement. That's all."

            I knew this already. I just needed to hear someone say it. I'd been pondering it since last night. I heard the front door click open and her footsteps on the stairs.

            "I gotta go."

            "Love you, son."

            "Love you, too, Dad."  I hung up, feeling that anxiety he'd been speaking of, but when Aubrey's head emerged from the top of the banister, and her eyes sought mine, catching the early rays of the sunlight beginning to stream over the top of the nearby peaks, I was reminded once again that my girl, this girl--- sparkled.

*******