On the Edge

Jonathan was a failed writer. He was a failed writer because he was once a success. Two bestsellers and a few million dollars later he found his newer books going out of print faster and faster. Fifteen minutes never felt so fleeting. The well was beginning to dry up and for extra money he’d write stories for magazines, plays, anything to try to rev his engine again. John still had money; his prior bestseller royalties alone were enough to keep him living well. The past was the problem.

After bitter disputes and arguments, or what Jonathan referred to as “Charlene’s jealousy of his success”, the break came. Irreconcilable differences. That’s what they wrote. And a feud for their young daughter ensued while he tried writing through his third novel. He already had the advance from the book and a public life but he wanted to raise the girl, too. When it came out in the press that he was drinking more and more to ease the pain of the past and that he may have even been a drug addict, that was enough for the courts to decide in favor of the mother. His soul was ripped from one corner of the state to the other. Montana was a big place.

Now he was living alone in a big house with little other than the bottle and late night television to keep him company. Pictures of his newly graduated daughter dressed the top of his writing desk on the second floor. She reminded him so much of her mother but she was a woman now and thankfully, one different from her mother. He couldn’t see her nearly as much as he would’ve liked through the years but it was enough to maintain close contact with her whether it be email, conversations or the occasional meeting.

When she gave him the news that she was going to college near where he lived, immediately he offered her a spot in his place. Jonathan’s home had been quiet for some time without someone around. Sure he’d met girls, many of them in their twenties and a few his daughter’s age of eighteen, and he brought them back to his place. But none of those girls had time machines and they couldn’t make him fall in love with them.

After some hesitation on her part, Jonathan convinced his daughter to move into his home. It was rent free for her and close to college. There weren’t many worries she’d have to deal with; all the worry fell upon him. Would she be safe with him? Would he be able to protect her? Would he be able to hold her tight enough when she got scared? And she’d remind him that she wasn’t five anymore. She was a grown adult. Looking at her picture again, in closer detail, he could see that easily now. Then he questioned himself. Was it the company of his daughter that he wanted? Or a woman who just might love him?

Trying to shake the thoughts from his mind he opened his bottom desk drawer, removing a bottle of liquor and a shot glass. Setting the glass upright on the desk he poured himself two shots, taking each down one after the other before setting the glass back in the drawer. He’d still need the bottle.

One day later and he was feeling the hurt. The cure was in his bottom desk drawer and he got started on it right away. It was the first thing he did every morning. Before brushing his teeth, before opening his eyes, even before thinking. It had become a ritualistic habit. The world he was getting lost in was becoming comfortable. No, that was the wrong word. Numb. Jonathan was beginning to feel numb. He didn’t want to feel anything.

Putting the bottle back where it belonged he walked into the bathroom, taking care of himself and getting himself ready for the day. His daughter was coming around noon and she’d need help. Showering, shaving and cleaning. It felt like he was nesting. Or was it something more... he wanted her. He wanted to rediscover himself, feel safe again, wanted again. He wanted to feel loved again. Did she have that ability? Could she give and do those things for him? If not, then he was a full-speed train charging on unfinished tracks.

Bump.

Name: Laurell
Age: 18
Appearance: View attachment 1004156

* * *

Laurell sighed as she finished packing up her last suitcase. Her mother was furious with her but there was nothing to be done about that. That her parents had had an acrimonious split when she was little, and her mother still detested her father, wasn't her fault and she wasn't going to let her mother's attitude sour the decision she'd made.

She was going to live with her father and that was that. He was less than five miles from the college she was going to and had offered her her own room, rent free. She had no doubt they'd end up butting heads over things eventually (after all she was 18 and intended to party on the weekends) but that was for them to work out, not for her mother to already be ranting and raving about.

Loading the last of the boxes and suitcases into her car she turned to find her mother staring at her from the house, she'd clearly been crying.

"You won't like it, you'll hate living with him," she told Laurell, her voice filled with conviction.

"Maybe, maybe not, if I do I'll get a job and roommates. Mom, can't you just be happy for me? I'm going away to college, you don't have to be thrilled with my choices but can't you at least fake it?" Laurell asked, an edge of frustration tightening her voice as she moved to hug the woman who'd raised her.

She loved her mother dearly but this irrational hatred of her father really was going to drive a wedge between them.

"I'll try honey. I'll try," the older woman agreed before hugging her daughter tightly. "You come home and visit, often. Make sure you get your homework done between parties, I don't want you flunking out of school but I want you to have fun too. Balance, pumpkin, balance," she said repeating a mantra that Laurell had heard all her life.

With a few more hugs and tears, on both sides, promises of lots of phone calls and admonitions of love and affection Laurell at last climbed into her car and turned it east toward college and her father.

* * *

Her father. A man she hadn't seen often, thank in large part to her mother's dislike of the man, but whom she'd kept in contact with her whole life. She loved him, but as she drove she realized she didn't know him well. She would be moving in with a virtual stranger. Of course if she'd gotten a job and roommates at school that would have been just as true.

At least this stranger had a connection to her and a reason to try to get along with her.

Pulling into his driveway she parked the car, got out, and just stared for a long moment at the house. Looking down at her thin sundress she suddenly wondered if she should have dressed differently. How did one dress after all to move in with the father she'd barely seen once a year? The rust and turquoise sundress would have to do.

Adjusting the spaghetti straps on the dress so they were higher on her shoulders she moved forward, her sandles slapping lightly at the walkway, to knock on the door and hope for the best.

Jonathan had already had his pre-noon drinks swirling in his stomach by the time he heard the knock on the door but he’d done well for himself today. No pills and he was able to mask the scent of booze on his breath. Even if it didn’t completely hide the smell a little drink in the morning never hurt anyone.

In a gray t-shirt and jeans he left his writing space which was upstairs in the hallway between bedrooms, starting down the stairs. Normally distractions annoyed him but he was going to finally be able to see the girl in the flesh who’d been sitting on his desk in picture frames; the girl he watched mature into a young woman. He didn’t know how things were going to work out between them but they couldn’t turn out any worse than they had between him and her mother. The animosity remained strong on both sides; the hurt, he doubted, would ever heal.

But a piece of him had returned and that was enough for him as he walked toward the door, self-consciously smoothing out his shirt and any wrinkles that may have embedded themselves in the cloth. He hadn’t even noticed that he was doing it until he moved his hand toward the doorknob. His hand gripped the handle, pulling the door open. Jonathan was in disbelief for a moment. Laurell was really here.

Sporting a genuine grin he spoke instinctively, “Laurell?” Advancing another step he embraced her briefly before stepping back to take a look at her, “Look at you.” And he was looking at her, though not as a daughter. “You look,” his mind ran through words he couldn’t say aloud - sexy, hot, arousing - “beautiful,” he ended with a smile.

Jonathan couldn’t believe that this beauty was going to stay with him. Sure he’d seen her in pictures and knew it was wrong to be looking at her, thinking of her in these ways but he couldn’t help himself. Maybe its because she chose him over her mother this one time. Or maybe it was because she was cliched dropped dead gorgeous. These were just normal reactions, he reminded himself. He was just a man after all and she was just a woman. Attractiveness was a word she seemed to define. He wondered if she knew that about herself. She had to know... But did she know he was thinking those thought right now? Jonathan tried white-washing his head to start over.

Then he cast a glance toward her car, momentarily breaking his eye lock on her to ask, “Did you bring much?”

Laurell fidgeted on the step while waiting for him to answer the door. She didn't know why she was so damned nervous, this was her father after all! Oh granted they didn't know each other well but they weren't utter strangers either. They had a bond in blood, he wasn't just some no one off the street.

She told herself that repeatedly until the door opened and he was smiling down at her. She could his happiness as he looked at, and finally embraced, her and wondered how much of it was just that she was here and how much of it was that she'd, seemingly, chosen him over her mother. Why they couldn't both realize that it wasn't a competition between them for her affections she'd never understood but for them it was...and her father had won this round.

“Look at you.” And he was looking at her, though not as a daughter. “You look,” ...- “beautiful,”

Laughing softly she offered him a warm grin and spun in a little pirouette for him, making the skirt of her dress flare out and revealing a long length of leg before it settled once more when she stopped, "Thank you Daddy," she said and followed his look toward her car.

“Did you bring much?”

Taking his hand she gave him a small tug and started toward her car, her free hand lifting her keys and pushing the button to pop the trunk revealing that she hadn't brought much at all.

"No, I packed pretty light. My summer and fall clothes are in the two suitcases and my favorite blankets and a few books are in the box there. Just the necessities for now. I figured once I was settled in and had a feel for the room I could bring more stuff back with me the next time I visit Mom."

Looking up at him she reached for the smaller suitcase and the box, "I hope that's o.k. I really don't want to be an inconvenience Daddy, you're going to a lot of trouble to all the sudden go from being a bachelor to having your daughter living with you, I promise to try not to get into the way much."

Rising on her tip toes she pressed a small kiss to his cheek and grinned before gesturing to the house, "Lead the way to my room!"

When she turned to spin around, his eyes didn’t latch onto the dress she was wearing. Jonathan was trying to catch the highest flashes of her legs as she twirled around. After she’d stopped he looked back up to her, “You’re welcome. Anytime you need a comment from me to tell you how beautiful you are, all you have to do is ask.” He wasn’t sure if he was breaking any boundaries in saying that but he figured she’d interpret it as an honest, fatherly saying. At least there were no lies in his words even if he were hiding some of them.

As she took his hand, he allowed her to lead him toward her car. Approaching he could just imagine the car piled sky high with clothes but he judged her wrongly when he heard what she brought. Grabbing two suitcases for each hand he asked her, “You brought books?” Then teased further, “Any of them by me?”

Then he smirked a little as she gave him a kiss on the cheek, “You’re not getting in the way. It might be a good thing if you did. But let’s go take a look at this room of yours.”

Shutting her trunk with the tips of his fingers he turned to her before leading the way into the house. He’d let her explore most of it later on after he set the suitcases down. As they climbed the stairs he spoke, “This place is usually pretty quiet so feel free to make some noise. I could use some change.” And as they walked by his bedroom and along the hall they passed his writing area, “Yes, I write in the hall on an old typewriter. It’s a habit but it shouldn’t bother you. I only write in the mornings and you’ll probably be gone by then.” The hall was large enough to support a desk, a chair and walking space so there'd be no unintentional encounters.

Then he approached her room, the spare room. It was decorated in light blue colors and had a hardwood floor. It was pretty barren but he was sure she’d be able to decorate it to her tastes in no time. “This is it. You can repaint it if you want,” he spoke, setting her suitcases on the bed. They bounced a few times as he turned to her, “There’s only one bathroom upstairs so we’ll have to work something out. There’s another one downstairs you’ll probably find later. So, what do you think? Is this doable?”

She wasn't surprised when he said there was only one bathroom upstairs, but she was glad when he said there was another downstairs. She had no problem using the downstairs bathroom and leaving the upstairs one to him since it looked like he spent more time up here than she thought she would. She did think it was odd that he did his writing in the hallway but hey, whatever worked for him, it was a large hallway so she'd be able to move around him without getting in his way.

Reaching the room she smiled when she saw it. It wasn't huge but it was good sized and the fact that it was sparsely furnished meant she could decorate as she pleased. It wouldn't be hard to add a few touches to it even now. While he was talking she opened the box she'd brought and put out the two things she always kept on her bedside table; a framed picture of her mother and a signed copy of his bestseller.

"Yes some of the books are yours. I've read everything you've ever had published Daddy," she said with a small laugh as he flopped her suitcases onto the bed.

So, what do you think? Is this doable?

"I think it's very doable Dad, we'll probably hit a few snags the first few weeks but we'll learn each others patterns and how to help each other, and when to stay out of each other's way. As for making noise, well I don't make much and I'm a late sleeper so I probably won't disturb your writing in the morning."

Looking around again she decided the unpacking could wait just a bit and gave him a warm grin, "So, you gonna show me the rest of the house?"

He watched her as she placed the book and picture on the bedside table. It surprised him that it didn’t bother him that much when he saw the picture of his ex-wife sitting next to his book. He’d been over her for a long time, it was the situation and how things had ended that bothered him. It was a part of him now and he had accepted it. It was too bad acceptance always hid at the bottom of every bottle.

“Well then, I have a few unpublished things you might want to take a look at later,” he spoke as he began walking toward her. When she brought up the idea to show her around the house he placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the hallway. “You’re not the adventurous type? Or do you need daddy’s protection in this strange house?” he laughed softly as he looked at her.

“Most of these rooms are extra space. There’s really not much to show except that they haven’t been used in so long. They could probably use a lot of dusting. Anyway,” he stopped his meandering, “There’s four other rooms up here that are furnished. They have couches, chairs, one of them has another television but I never have any use for them.” Then he continued as he led her down the stairs, “When you came in you saw the kitchen. Straight ahead, behind the closed door is the study area. It has books, a desk, a good place to go if you want to get away. I used to do a lot of my writing there but for some reason I like the hallway better.” He smiled, “Call me eccentric if you want to.”

Then, near the stairs he walked her into the living room where there was a large screen television, a pair of couches, a love seat and three chairs. A fireplace was built in the far corner of the room, “Sometimes that’s all there is for heat in the winter,” he spoke seriously though he was only teasing, testing her belief in him.

Jonathan couldn’t help but fall in love with how she felt in his hand. He imagined what her skin felt like under that dress she was wearing... what she looked like without it. Battering himself for having those thoughts he added, “And there’s an adjoining room. I don’t know what you’d call it. Misused, probably. And connected to that is the other bathroom.” He smiled, “Convenient, I know.”

“You’re not the adventurous type? Or do you need daddy’s protection in this strange house?”

Laughing softly she half turned and swatted playfully at his shoulder without pulling away from the hand that was guiding her from the small of her back, "I don't need protecting, but I don't go poking around people's houses either. Having you show me around gives you the chance to tell me if something is private so I don't go blundering in where I don't belong."

Shaking her head at the silliness of father's she let him guide her through the house. Once or twice she thought she felt his hand start to slide a bit lower than would have been proper but pushed the thought away thinking she had to be imagining it. This was her father after all, not some idiot boy from school trying to cop a feel. Surely she was just being silly.

When he led her into the living room her eyes went wide with awe...the room was HUGE! She adored the fireplace on sight and was about to ask if it could actually be used in the winter when he spoke, “Sometimes that’s all there is for heat in the winter,”

His words made her laugh and shake her head, she knew when someone was pulling her leg, "Liar!" she teased. "I saw the thermostat in the kitchen Dad, I'm not quite quite gullible," she added and bumped his hip playfully with her own for teasing her.

She liked the house itself. It was large and airy, with plenty of space. She'd be able to do her stretching routines in the living room without having to move any furniture out of the way and since he was out in the country a bit she could run each morning and doubted she'd have to worry about too many cars.

"I like it," she said at last a small grin curving her lips while her stomach rumbled loudly, "Now, the real question is, does this bachelor pad have any food in it or do we need to go grocery shopping?"

“There’s nothing private in here, sweetie,” he spoke to her, feeling the connection come easy. All those years apart seemed to have melted away in the first few minutes they were near one another. Jonathan doubted there’d be any trouble at all provided he could get those thoughts of his daughter doing dirty things out of his head. Then he added with a smile, “Even if you get scared in the night you can come knocking on my door.” And then he noticed his hand on his back slipping down just a little. Then a little more before he readjusted himself.

After she called him out on the fireplace he permitted a light laugh, enjoying the push from the hip more than a father ought. Although he wasn’t afraid and pushed back just a little, “I have to make sure you’re not gullible to fall for anything. You’re going to college and there’s a lot of boys out there who’ll tell you a lot of things. Just always remember, I’m here for you.”

Upon ending the tour he regretfully pulled his hand away from her body, looking toward the kitchen as she asked about food. “We have condiments, I know that much. I’m not much of a cook,” he admitted as he stared at her. “Why? Are you hungry? We can just order in today and get everything we need tomorrow. There’s a lot of catching up we have to do.”

Then he thought a little, adding quickly, “Unless you feel like going out. Of course you’ll have to dress up,” he gave her a quick, playful wink. “Do you have anything like that? Or do we have to go shopping?”

Jonathan was glad the thought came to him at the last second. Going out to eat was a good option to get to know his daughter better while settling her craving for food. He didn’t even mind the idea of finding something to buy her should she not have anything like that in her suitcases. Being near her was enough for now.

“Unless you feel like going out. Of course you’ll have to dress up,” he gave her a quick, playful wink. “Do you have anything like that? Or do we have to go shopping?”

Laurell laughed at the wink that came along with the suggestion of shopping. She hadn't packed her best clothes but she did have a dress or two that would probably suit anywhere he'd take her around here. Of course she didn't really know what was available around his home, or how fancy it might be, shopping might not be a terrible idea.

"Well now, I probably have a dress or two that will do for most places, but how fancy are you talking? I don't have a cocktail dress or anything that fancy but I have nice clothes? You tell me where you have in mind and I'll tell you if I need to shop or not," she said at last with a soft laugh.

Waiting for his answer her eyes were sparkling with mirth. It was good to be able to laugh with him. She wasn't sure how long she would be uncomfortable around him but he was her father after all and her nerves had calmed quickly. Now she just had to get the suspicious part of her brain to hush. She kept telling herself that he wasn't looking at her like a man looks at a woman, that his hand hadn't slipped down her back, that she was just being silly...but she didn't entirely believe her own arguments.

"Truly if you'd just rather order in and curl up in sweats to watch movies that would work fine with my Dad, I just need to get some food in my stomach, and tomorrow we go grocery shopping!" she added with a look that was entirely female as she opened the fridge and saw how empty it was. "This is pathetic Daddy. What are you living on? You're going to gain ten pounds in a week with me home and cooking!" she said with a bright laugh.

Jonathan watched her, smiling as she ran through what she probably had in her bags. It was probably better if they stayed in. Between driving, shopping, driving some more and then finally sitting down to eat it’d be late and they’d probably both be hungry by then. And he’d be long overdue for a decent drink. The more he thought about it the more he decided to go with her suggestion. He could just as easily be with his daughter here, in his home, than anywhere else. There was no use into going through all the trouble. It was just the newness of it all. The excitement of having a guest, of having someone here.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he spoke with that same smile. “We’ll just order in and have a good time. Why don’t you tell me what you want. Then while I’m ordering you can run upstairs, jump into some sweats and think about what kind of movie you want to watch. I’ll be down here at the other end waiting with a glass of Jack Daniels. Would you like one?” he asked. Then just as quickly he added, “Scratch that, I'll pour you one. If you want it when you come back down you can take it, if not, I will.”

It wasn’t his intention to liquor her up. He was just being as courteous to her as he would to anyone else. If you’re having a drink then you offer it to your guest. It was only the right thing to do. And it’d be nice and cool, too, spending all its time waiting in the freezer to be drank. Better than the stuff he had in his bottom desk drawer; that stuff was hard and harsh. Lighter fluid tasted better but it got the job done.

Deciding it was best that he didn't answer her question about what he was living on, he half smirked instead, keeping his eyes on her and holding up the phone to let her know he was about to call, "So, what'll it be?"

She was glad when he decided to stay in. Going out would have been fun but she was hungry now and didn't even relish the wait for something to come in from town. She really didn't think she'd have done well waiting through shopping and then waiting for dinner to come to them at a restaurant. Waiting for take-out was about all she was really up for.

She was surprised when he said he was going to pour her a drink. Granted she'd had alcohol before but it wasn't something an 18 year old usually talked about with their parents, much less was offered by one. It made her smile at the offer, he was treating her like an adult, not like a kid and she was glad for it. She just didn't know what to say to it so she didn't answer since he said he'd pour it and if she didn't drink it he would.

"So, what'll it be?"

"Pizza sounds good to me. If you order a couple extra larges we'll be able to eat the leftovers for breakfast in the morning before we go shopping. If you get a couple two liters of coke two I'll mix some in with the Jack and take that drink you offered."

Grinning she bounced up to him and kissed his cheek, "Anything but fish, fungus, or fruit please!" she said with a laugh before darting up the stairs to change her clothes.

In her room she opened the drawers on the dresser and used the time while waiting for the pizza to unpack her clothes as well as to change. With only two suitcases the unpacking didn't take long. Her jeans, skirts, dresses and dress shirts got hung up while everything else went into the dresser drawers. The suitcases themselves she slid under the bed and a smile of satisfaction curved her lips.

One thing done. The box, with her more personal items, could wait til tomorrow.

When she came pounding back down the steps she was in a pair of light grey men's sweatpants and a baggy, black, t-shirt. From the way her firm breasts moved under the shirt it was clear she'd taken off her bra and her feet were bare. With her hair pulled up into a ponytail and her make-up washed off her face, she looked closer to 16 than to her actual 18 years.

"So what did you order?" she asked as she moved into the kitchen and started rummaging around. She found the dishes and pulled out two plates as well as finding paper towel to use as napkins. She didn't bother pulling out glasses since he'd said he was pouring drinks. Waiting for him to answer she hopped up onto the counter and let her feet swing like a small child, while a grin curved her lips making her look even younger.

“Pizza. Alright,” he answered, watching her bound up the stairs. Then he realized he’d have to pour more Jack into the drink than he intended if she were going to mix it. Usually he drank liquor straight but for the meeting with his daughter he was more than willing to mix the drinks. A shame it’d take nearly a half hour before everything arrived. Turning the phone on he hit a speed dial number, giving them his order for a few meats on each large pizza. He was never picky when it came to that so he let her run with what she wanted.

While she was upstairs changing and making some noise, Jonathan remained downstairs. Pulling open the freezer he took out the liquor and took two tall glasses from the cabinet. He filled each nearly halfway before he put the cap back on the bottle, returning it to the freezer. With the cooled drinks sitting on the counter, still strong from their lack of mix, Jonathan waited for his daughter to come down. It seemed like forever. Maybe she was putting away things, he reasoned.

Twenty minutes passed... the pizza arrived early. He paid the delivery man, taking the two pizzas inside and placing them on the table. Then he returned for the liters of coke, setting them on the counter. At the last minute he decided maybe nearly half a glass was too much for her. He took her glass, pouring only a little into his. Bringing over the cokes he filled both nearly to the brim so she wouldn’t end up choking on the stuff.

Then he saw her. She certainly looked better than any picture he was ever sent. Not answering her right away he watched how her breasts moved in her shirt... was that intentional? No, it couldn’t be. “A three-meat pizza. It has three different kinds of meat on it,” he added as though he had to. He had to snap out of it. “Your drink,” he reminded himself as he went to grab hers. Handing it to her he spoke, “Here you go. You might want to take it slow but I won’t be ashamed of you if you downed it,” he laughed softly as he grabbed a plate.

Putting a few pieces on it he set it on the counter next to her as he took another plate for him, again, a few pieces before returning near where she was sitting. He brought his drink closer, taking a sip from his cup before taking a bite out of the pizza.

“Here you go. You might want to take it slow but I won’t be ashamed of you if you downed it,”

His comment made her laugh as she reached out and sipped at her drink. It was stronger than she'd expected. She'd thought he'd only pour enough to make her feel like an adult but this tasted more like something she'd drink at a party. As he placed a plate beside her as well she smiled down at him from the countertop.

"Thanks Dad. I'd get down and eat at the table if you prefer," she said as she picked up a slice and began to eat. Since he came back over with his own she figured he didn't really mind her sitting on it and grinned again. Her mother would have had a fit! Perhaps living with her father would have a few other advantages if he felt like letting her get away with little things.

"So, other than writing up in the hallway, how do you like to spend your days Dad?" she asked, trying to make small talk between bites of pizza and sips of her drink.

He didn’t mind standing in the kitchen, leaning against the countertop as he listened to his daughter talk. Offering what he could in an acceptable smile he took another drink from his cup, holding it up a little when she asked him how he liked to spend his days. “There’s not much for someone like me to do around here but now that you’re here...” he led on. “I’m sure we’ll both find something to do together in the meantime, before college starts. I have a lot of free time as a writer.”

Then he moved a little closer to her as he spoke, “I don’t mind standing here. And I’m sure the counter can hold your weight, you’re such a skinny little thing,” he spoke lightly. “No, you’re not hurting anything.”

Then he took a bite from the pizza, swallowing it down with some of his drink, “What do you think we ought to do tomorrow? There’s a whole day waiting for us from morning till night.”

She wasn't sure she liked the way he lifted his cup when she asked what he did all day. Was he saying he spent his days drinking? If he was she was going to have to see what she could do about that. Having a drink with dinner was one thing, but being hammered before lunch...well she wasn't going to live with a lush. She didn't say anything however, she'd wait and see, it might have meant nothing after all and she didn't want to pick a fight her first night here with him.

“What do you think we ought to do tomorrow? There’s a whole day waiting for us from morning till night.”

She actually took some time to think about that question. She was mostly unpacked all ready so she didn't need to do that. Really there wasn't much that she had to do and she had no idea what there was to do for amusement in this town.

It was an interesting question.

"Well, you said you like to do your writing in the morning so while you're doing that I think I'll go for my daily run, probably do a bit of yoga as well. When you're done for the day we need to go grocery shopping. Maybe we could get some lunch while we're out and I can fix us a real dinner tomorrow night. But between shopping and dinner I'm clueless.

You live here, you tell me what there is to do for fun."

As she spoke she continued to eat and she also managed to finish her drink off. She hadn't realized she was drinking it quite so fast, she must be more nervous still then she'd thought. With a small smile she held her cup out toward her father, "Can I have more? If you'd rather I not I can just have some more Coke though, " she said clearly understanding if he didn't want her drinking.

Drinking wasn’t the only thing he did but it certainly helped pass the time when boredom came brooding. He continued with his occasional sips and eating pizza as their conversation continued. For once he was enjoying himself and the time he was spending with someone. It wasn’t like a wasted night at a bar. There was something genuine about this.

Taking another sip from his cup he listened to her description for things they could do. “I don’t know. I’ve never been much of a shopper. And wouldn’t you rather be out of the house while I’m hammering on that old typewriter? That won’t bother you with your yoga?” Then he added, “There’s not much around here. I could show you some of my unpublished work. Its quite different from what usually carries my name. But if you want to do something interesting we could see a movie or something. While this looks like the country the city is within driving distance,” he permitted a smile as he spoke. “We’re not completely out in the middle of nowhere.”

Then after a few thoughtful moments, “We could still go shopping to get you something tomorrow. I feel like I’ve been neglectful after all these years and I’d like to get you something you’d want. I’ll even go into the store with you.”

Jonathan smiled at her when she said she finished her coke. He was sure to give her more but this time there was more of a kick to the drink than before. After adding some to his own cup and shutting the freezer door he handed her drink back to her. “All you have to do is ask and I’ll do whatever I can to make that wish come true.”

And wouldn’t you rather be out of the house while I’m hammering on that old typewriter? That won’t bother you with your yoga?

His commenting that he wasn't much of a shopper made her laugh softly. That was obvious from the state of his fridge! "Nope, it won't bother me at all and, at least the first time, you're going with me to the grocery store so I know what we both like. After that I can take care of it myself. And your typing won't bother me in the least. I'm used to a noisy neighborhood with dogs barking and people mowing their lawns, kids running around screaming outside. Trust me, one typewriter is not going to break my concentration."

Smiling as he turned to the fridge to refill their drinks, she shook her head at his offer to buy her something. So he was feeling guilty, he'd have to get over that quick or he'd likely drive her nuts at some point.

"You don't have to buy me things Daddy," she said as he handed her, her drink back. Taking a sip she made a small face as she realized it was stronger this time than last. And last time had been plenty strong! She was going to have to nurse this one or she was going to end up hammered, hell she was already pleasantly buzzed.

“All you have to do is ask and I’ll do whatever I can to make that wish come true.”

Smiling she slid from the counter and pressed close to him to touch her lips to his cheek, "Thank you Daddy. That's very sweet. Come on, let's find a movie to watch," she said and grabbed his hand after throwing the leftover pizza in the fridge.

Her drink in one hand, and his hand in the other she playfully tugged him along toward the living room where she ignore the furniture and stretched out on the floor, once more kicking her feet in a picture of youthful innocence.

"So what kind of movies do you like Dad? I'm up for pretty much anything but no chick flicks tonight I think. Maybe an action movie, or a horror flick, if you like those."

“Its up to you what you want to do in the mornings,” he commented after she said he wouldn’t break her concentration. It wasn’t her concentration he was really concerned about. How would he be able to keep his mind off his daughter downstairs while she did yoga? Jonathan was only a flight of stairs up. There’d have to be a change in his writing habits. Maybe he’d choose midday. It’d give him a reason to talk to her, to watch her. Before he found himself completely lost in thought he returned his attention to her.

“Well then, you deserve something for coming all the way out here. I’m still going to find something for you,” he added no matter what objections she’d put up. That would mean he’d have to go out, and probably on his own but he was willing to bear it for his daughter.

When she came close enough to him, pressing her lips to his cheek he gently wrapped an arm around her, holding her still until she began putting away the pizza. He took a few drinks from his mix as he watched her. After grabbing his hand, he followed her into the livingroom. Noticing that she chose the floor over everything else, he sat himself on the couch, placing his drink on an end table as he reached for the remote.

"So what kind of movies do you like Dad? I'm up for pretty much anything but no chick flicks tonight I think. Maybe an action movie, or a horror flick, if you like those."

Turning on the television he glanced down at her once she mentioned movies. “Oh, documentaries, foreign films with subtitles, intense character studies,” he was testing her. “How about you grab something from the shelf and put it in. Its your night tonight. But come up here after that. You have the choice of all the furniture in this room and you choose the floor?” he smiled. “You’re body might be aching in the morning.”

“Oh, documentaries, foreign films with subtitles, intense character studies,” he was testing her. “How about you grab something from the shelf and put it in. Its your night tonight. But come up here after that. You have the choice of all the furniture in this room and you choose the floor?” he smiled. “You’re body might be aching in the morning.”

Recognizing when she was being teased she stuck her tongue out at him before hopping up to look through his movie collection. She was feeling lazy or she'd have run up and gotten her own collection of DVD's, and still might if he didn't have anything good. Looking through his collection she did see some of the movies he'd mentioned but they were scattered in among every other type of movie as well.

Finally selecting a copy of The Boondock Saints she popped it into the player and then moved to curl up on the couch with him, stretching her legs out so that her feet rested in his lap.

"You know, you sound as bad as mom telling me not to lay on the floor. I like laying on the floor, I can stretch out and if I move around I don't get in anyone else's way of viewing the screen. I've never had it leave my body aching yet," she added with a small, playful pout curving her lips.

She was deliberately teasing him and hoped he wouldn't take her seriously. If she was going to live here he was going to have to learn to deal with her sense of humor eventually, might as well start now.

Jonathan stretched his body against the couch as she got up, scanning through the movies. Feeling his blood rushing through him he thought for a moment he rediscovered his vitality. It had to be the quick, sudden change from living alone to living with someone else even if it’d only been a few hours. Plenty of hopes were put on her staying in his home, so much so that he’d likely do anything to keep her. Though with how well they were getting along he didn’t think that was going to be a problem.

“You know, you sound as bad as mom telling me not to lay on the floor. I like laying on the floor, I can stretch out and if I move around I don't get in anyone else's way of viewing the screen. I've never had it leave my body aching yet."

“Then it looks like your mother and I still have a few things in common. Besides, you’ve never spent the night on my floor yet,” he added. Stop it, he silently told himself. The phrase 'She’s your daughter' ran over and over in his mind; he could only hope that her reluctance to accept that her father was trying to fuel a fire was still in denial.

As she plopped down on the couch with her feet in his lap he was going to have some fun of his own. If she were going to throw pouting looks at him, tempt him - knowing or not - he decided to run his fingertips along the underside of her feet. If she was no longer ticklish there he might have to find another spot. There was plenty of night left, and liquor, to find out.

“Then it looks like your mother and I still have a few things in common. Besides, you’ve never spent the night on my floor yet,”

"I wouldn't spend the night ther...." her voice trailed off into a high pitch squeal as his fingers trails down the underside of her feet. Suddenly yanking them back and tucking them underneath her she shot him a mock glare that didn't reach her eyes. "That was just mean! It's not nice to tickle," she said as sternly as she could manage, even waggling her finger at him as if she, and not he, were the parent.

Laughing softly she relaxed in her spot on the couch but didn't stretch her feet back out. She was protecting them now and watching out for further signs of treachery from him, but as they didn't come she relaxed further, getting involved in the movie and eventually stretching her legs back out and resting her feet in his lap again.

She also continued taking sips of her drink, not realizing just how quickly she was going through it or how woozy she was starting to feel as the alcohol took effect in her body.

Jonathan laughed with her once she squealed, stealing away her feet from him. Then he had no choice but to busy himself by taking another sip from his drink as he looked toward her. “It isn’t nice to tickle?” he questioned her. “But what was that sound I heard coming out of your mouth? I didn’t heard a vile curse or anger. It sounded like you enjoyed it,” he went on as he relaxed a little, bringing his attention to the television for the first time since she put the movie in.

He had no other plans for the moment as the movie deepened into its length, resting an arm over the back of the couch as he watched. Sitting in silence for a while, he let the movie control the scene until he felt her feet creeping back across the line. A mischievous grin drew on his face as he looked down at her feet. There was opportunity here and he’d already seen the movie too many times already. There was so much time to burn in this house.

Wanting to break up the action sequences he took a quick drink from his glass, noticing now that it was empty. Tempted to get up and grab another one, he refrained. Instead he snatched one of her ankles with one hand and with the other, began tickling the bottom of her foot. He wasn’t going to let her get away with it this time.

"What are you going to do about it now?" he held his roaming fingers to give her enough time to answer.

She missed the mischievous look on her father's face because she was watching the movie, in fact she wasn't paying much attention to anything or she might have kept her feet closer to her body. She was completely unaware of how close to him they'd gotten until he suddenly snatched one of her ankles and started tickling her foot once more.

Squealing again she tried to yank her foot back only to find herself trapped! Yanking and struggling she laughed and pulled until he stopped and asked her just what she thought she was going to do about.

"I can kick you!" she threatened with a laugh, her free foot lashing out to catch him, lightly, in the thigh. She had kept the kick low but the threat that she could kick higher was there in the look on her face as she continued to try and pull her foot free.

"Let me go," she growled and suddenly just rolled her body to the floor, hoping to surprise him into letting her go. Unfortunately she underestimated the alcohol in her system and ended up yanking him down with her which just made her giggle even harder.