On The Edge

(Want to play the role of the daughter? PM me)

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.

bumping

The end if high school usually brings some tears and sadness for most graduates. Missing friends, moving away from family, acclimating to a new city; none of these things sounded bad to Jolene. She had spent the last years of her adolescence watching her mother go through a succession of boyfriends, each more disgusting thn the next, as far as Jolene was concerned. They had all treated her mother like an open bank account, and Jolene like a personal fuck fantasy. She couldn't count the times she had kicked some drunken slob out of her bedroom. That was the main reason she had applied to a school far away from home. She didn't even plan to go home on breaks or for holidays. She was so ready to escape this hell.

When her father had called and offered her a place to live, Jolene was apprehensive. They had been close before the divorce, then they had only been together for visitation and holidays. There had been a distance that crept up between them and made it hard for Jolene to look her father in the eye when they were alone. At least she thought it was distance. Their emails and calls were usually light and full of day to day trivia. Sometimes Jolene thought she detected a hint of something else in her father's voice that pulled at her heart. She felt guilty for not being with him during his dark times. Perhaps this would be a good time to mend those fences and bring them closer.

Jolene stood in the center of her bedroom for what she hoped would be the very last time. She looked at herself in the full length mirror on the back of the door. Her long dark brown hair fell in soft curls to the middle of her back. She gathered it and put it in a loose ponytail. As she messed with her hair she took a minute to admire her reflection. She was glad she had inherited her mother's build; round full breasts, tapered waist, and softly curved hips. She was taller than most of her girlfriends by more than a couple of inches, and when she pulled on her tight blue jeans and boots, she could have her pick of the local cowboys. Jolene liked being able to tease, but she longed for something more. She had watched her mother go through god knows how many men looking for Mr. Right. Jolene was determined not to settle. She was saving herself for the man who deserved her. She knew she would have a hard time finding the one who could live up to her dad, but she was patient and determined. She was not going to end up like her mother.

Jonathan spent the day getting as ready as he possibly could. But there wasn’t much for him to do aside from tossing out old bottles that’ve been doing nothing but collecting dust on his desk. It was a day after day affair that he didn’t want to have to contend with on the day his daughter was going to see him. Jonathan was definitely going to drink before the sun shed its light. At the very least he was going to make it look respectably decent.

A few candles were lit to burn away the profound smell of cheap liquor the day of and before she arrived. It was enough to do the trick but not enough for him to forget the hangover still trying to party in his head. But as with the rest of the real world, he’d grit and bear it until the night came to claim its right.

By noon John had readied himself, showered and clothed in pair of jeans and t-shirt. For anyone else he probably would’ve forgone the shower and went straight to the drink but it was a special day today. And for that reason he was not only going to not cook, but he was going to give up any other damned responsibilities that would’ve demanded a second of his regular work day.

Jolene was throwing the last few things she cared about into her travel bag. She looked back one time at the bare walls and empty bed. All of her personal items were either in her bag on in the trash. She didn't plan on ever coming back. When her mother asked her if she needed anything, Jolene laughed. What could she possibly need from her? More lies? More empty promises? She told her mom thanks but no thanks and walked out.

The taxi Jolene had called was waiting outside. The driver got out and helped her with her bags, then they were on their way. Jolene watched out the window as they put distance between home and her new life. This place had never really felt like home, but Jolene was a little sad. Sad that she didn't really have any ties to the place she had lived all of her life. When the last of the city limits passed by her window, she resolved to let her sadness go. By the time they had reached the airport, Jolene was smiling. She was anxious to reconnect with her dad.

When the plane touched down, Jolene's nerves started in on her. It had been almost a year since Jolene and her dad had spent any real time together, just the two of them. She wondered if he was having any misgivings about inviting her to live with him? When they had talked last night she thought she had detected something in his voice, but when she asked if anything was the matter he had told her no, and she had let it drop. Now she hoped it was just anticipation that had caused him to sound like he regretted inviting her. She picked up her bags off the carousel and headed for the exit while she dialed her dad's number to let him know she was on her way out.

Jonathan left his home in order to pick his daughter up at the airport. He’d turn off the car in the lot and head inside. It was almost impossible to go anywhere without a ticket these days. The TSA certainly was a waste. Such a great government overreach.

Rather than find a way through Jonathan decided to wait on a bench in front of a television talking about how the world was crumbling all around. Even the unions were squeezing the working man. It was another good reason to drink. He definitely needed a woman to get his mind off those things. A great diversion however he didn’t think his daughter would be enough… rather he didn’t think she’d provide the precise diversion he needed.

Jonathan checked his watch because he didn’t feel like reaching for his phone. Looking around he saw everyone in their own little electronic worlds. Let the world have its virtual reality. He’d take the real thing, flesh and blood any day. As bad as some things were the few pleasures life had to offer were worth fighting for. A few minutes passed before he took out his phone. It wouldn’t be long now.

The airport terminal was small and it didn't take Jolene long to reach the lobby. She saw her dad at the same time she put her phone to her ear. She watched him respond to the ring tone. Was it a smile that crossed his face? It was hard to tell from this distance.

The doubts crept up again as she closed the distance between them. What if he had changed his mind about her moving in? He had lived alone in the years since he had split from her mother. Jolene knew he must have had girlfriends...or whatever adults called not quite significant others. She hoped he wasn't worried about her getting in the way of any of those relationships. She would be content to have her own room and would do her best to stay out of the way. She planned on being busy with school, anyway. She was going to get a job, too, so her father wouldn't think she expected him to pay her way.

"Hey Daddy, I see you," Jolene said when he picked up the call.

Jolene waved as she walked closer, so Jonathan would be able to pick her out from the small crowd of passengers moving toward the exit. When she was close enough she dropped her phone in her purse and set her bags down so she could hug her father.

"Glad to see me?" Jolene asked as she put her arms around his neck, tentatively, waiting for his response.

His daughter caught his attention when she spoke up, near enough for there to be no doubt that it was her. It was true, the best encounters began when the woman introduced herself first. A slight smile crossed his face as he stood and walked toward her, close enough for her to wrap her arms around his neck.

She looked better than what he remembered so he couldn’t help himself but to wrap his arms around her too. His hands met at the small of her back, pulling her close into him. If anyone had been watching they’d probably have thought it was nothing less than a lover’s embrace as he held her close. With a little maneuvering she might’ve even been able to feel his hardening cock.

Before it was too out of control he relaxed his grip, meaning to kiss her on the cheek but instead connected with the corner of her mouth as he answered, “I’m always glad to see you, baby.” As he relaxed his grip on her, his hand briefly grazed her ass he as he looked to her bags. “Let’s get you home,” he spoke as he picked up the bags at her feet.

Any doubts Jolene had about her father wanting her there evaporated when she saw him. His smile was as warm as always as he walked towards her. It had been too long since she had been smiled at like that, like someone was really happy she was there. It felt good when his arms wrapped around her in response to her embrace. She buried her face in his neck when he pulled her close, and enjoyed the scent of him filling her nostrils. Strong, warm, close. She didn't want the moment to end too soon. When his lips grazed hers she felt a spark. She brushed if off as static electricity. But static electricity never made her feel quite like this. Must be a little jet lag, too, she thought as she pulled away slightly and smiled.

One big duffelbag and a suitcase held everything she owned. Her father reached down and grabbed the handles, picking them up with ease. She felt a little sadness when she thought all she had in the world was in those two bags. The only person who really meant anything to her had her whole life in his hands, literally. Hearing him say "let's get you home" made her feel like everything would be okay. She wanted to be home, with him.

They walked in comfortable silence until they got to the car. Jolene watched her dad put her things in the trunk, then shut the lid and walk over to unlock her door. She fought the urge to embrace him again, not wanting him to think she was too clingy. When he got in the car beside her, she did grab his hand.
"Tell me what you've been up to Daddy? It's been too long since we talked..."

As he entered the car and put the key in the ignition he felt her hand on his. “Nothing much,” he reassured her as he patted her thigh twice, reassuringly, as he backed out of the garage and out of the lot. “I’m just writing, working. Living from one day to the next is all anyone can do.”

He didn’t live too far away which was great because he wasn’t too fond of driving. After finally reaching their destination, home, Jonathan pulled the car into the driveway, cutting off the engine.

“Head on inside,” he spoke with his hand on the door’s handle, “check out the place and I’ll be in right behind you.” Emboldened, he gave her another quick kiss on the corner of her lips before pressing against the door to let himself out. With the press of a button he opened the trunk as he shut the door, walking around to its rear to grab the few bags she owned.

It didn’t take much effort to sling the duffle bag over his shoulder or to hold onto the second bag she had. She was a growing girl… she should’ve had suitcases full of shit. Not that his back was complaining.

A few seconds later he allowed himself inside, setting her things near the front door so they could be packed away later. “Well,” he spoke at last, “What do you think of your new place?”

The first thing Jolene noticed when she walked in the house was the absence of clutter. Her mother's house was filled with stuff: framed photos, curios, table lamps, books. You couldn't walk from the front door to the living room without knocking something over. Here, everything had a purpose, save for the few magazines on the coffee table.

Books lined two walls, floor to ceiling, giving the room the look, feel, and even scent of a library. She had inherited his love of books, most likely through the hero worship a daughter has for her father. She was definitely her father's biggest fan, and that was a huge source of contention between Jolene and her mother. She had once slapped her mother in the face for calling him a drunken hack. It was worth the slap she got in return. It was more emotion directed at her than she had received from her mother in years. It was also one of the things that made it so easy to walk away.

The sound of the door closing snapped her out of her thoughts. This was no ordinary visit. This was a change in her life Jolene was so ready to embrace; no more uncomfortable encounters with her mom's boyfriends, no more defending her father against her mother's pathetic tirades. Just Jolene and her father. This was going to be bliss.

"Daddy, I've never felt more at home than I do right now," Jolene said when he asked what she thought of her new place. For the very first time, she thought she knew what that word really meant.

“So what do you want to do first?” he asked her, closing the door behind him. “Want to see the room? Eat? Movie? Or just explore the place on your own?” For now he was going to leave the options open to her. It was a new place for her and he felt it’d be best if she got used to it before she settled. But he’d never had her move in like this before. It was going to be tough getting used to somebody new again, even if it were his daughter.

Even though the sun was still shining outside he felt compelled to turn on the lights. It was always so dark in his home with the heavy curtains he hung to keep the sunlight out. Maybe now that his daughter was here it was time for a little change in his lifestyle. He certainly wouldn’t be able to keep his odd hours if he intended to reconnect with his daughter.

“Its your choice tonight. Whatever you want, its yours.”

“Its your choice tonight. Whatever you want, its yours.”

Where to start? Unpack? That would take all of 10 minutes. Then what? School didn't start for a week, so Jolene had plenty of time to get out and learn her way around town. What did she want, exactly? She wanted to spend all the time she could with her dad. He was offering her the evening and she wasn't going to turn him down.

The lights her father turned on chased away the darkness, but the shadows remained in the big room. Why would someone have such heavy curtains in a room with such beautiful scenic views? The horizon seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth, then fade gently into the sky. Or did the sky fade into the horizon? Either way, the blurry, far away line was almost hypnotic as it shimmered and made waves in the late afternoon sun.

The grumbling in her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten anything since before she went to bed the previous night. Flying always made her a little nervous, but she had been a little more worked up today than normal. Now that she was here, she realized she was starving. She wasn't dressed to go out, and wasn't in the mood, really, either.

"How about you show me to my room so I can freshen up, then I'll be in charge of dinner? As long as grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup are good enough," she winked.

It had been their favorite meal to share when she was a kid. She had been so proud when she returned home from a visit with her father and offered to prepare dinner. Her mother had laughed and said "at least he's teaching you something worthwhile." Jolene had been 10 at the time. It had taken her until she was about 12 to realize her mother hadn't meant that as a compliment to anyone.

The last time a girl winked at him like that was because she couldn’t get the cum out of her eye. It was an awkward flashback until he returned to reality and saw his beautiful daughter standing in front of him. He smiled briefly.

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup? As long as I don’t have to cook I’m good with anything,” he held onto the smile as he briefly broke the glance. “Your room’s up this way,” he instructed to her as he began to move toward the stairs in the living room. Up the dozen or so steps he turned to the left, guiding her down the length of the hall until they came to the last room. Opening the door he revealed a room with painted walls, a few random pictures, a bed, dresser and a closet.

“You can do whatever you want to your room. I only did a little to make it seem a bit more like home,” he commented as he returned his attention back to his daughter. “So what do you think? Does your dad need to freshen up a little too?” he questioned with a teasing smile as he added, “I’ll meet you in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

Jolene followed her dad up the stairs and down the hall. He opened the door to a sparsely furnished room and allowed her to enter first. There was nice big bed with several pillows, a dresser that would more than hold her clothes, and a few pictures on the walls. The windows faced east and south, which would be nice in the mornings, she thought as she looked around.

"Dad, just being here with you makes it home," she said. "Mom is the one who trashes up a place with all the stuff everywhere, not me."

She was already looking forward to spending her first night in this clean, clutter-free room. But first, she wanted to spend the evening with her dad. Maybe snuggle up on the couch and watch an old movie, catch up, get close again. She was feeling that tug, that ache to be the center of his universe, like she was before the divorce. The two of them would watch cartoons on Saturday mornings before Mom got up, eating bowls of ridiculously sweet cereal. drinking coffee made half with milk, then try to look innocent when Mom found the cereal box in the trash. Dad always covered for her. He was her protector. She had missed him so much when he moved out. There was lots of lost time to recapture.

Before he turned to walk away, she tugged on the belt loop at the back of his jeans. It was a playful move she had used on him a hundred times before. This time, though, there was something else she felt when her finger gripped that loop. A tug of possessiveness, not the same as the little girl hanging on to her daddy. More like...more like what? A woman pulling her man back to her, tugging him into an embrace, not a hug? Jolene was acutely aware, as she never had been before, of that difference.

"Thanks, daddy, this means more to me than you know," she said as she put her arms around his neck and hugged him close.

She buried her face in his neck to keep from looking him in the face. His handsome, familiar face. She hadn't really noticed the handsome part before. Not like she had just now, anyway. It must just be exhaustion and the fact I'm so relieved to be here, she thought. Otherwise, why am I suddenly embarrassed to kiss my dad?

"I'll just be a few minutes, if you'll point the way to the bathroom?" she asked, letting her arms fall to her sides, reluctantly, so she could look him in the face and not be quite so tempted to kiss his lips. Instead, she kissed his cheek and said she would meet him in the kitchen in a few minutes.

"You can freshen up if you think you need to, but you're okay by me, she said. She wanted to add more than okay, but she kept it to herself.

Jonathan was momentarily startled when he felt the light tug on the loop of his belt. As he returned himself to her he found himself instantly in her embrace as she spoke about how important everything was to her. There was little else Jonathan could do except to return the hold, his strong arms wrapping themselves around her body so they held her close, closer than a daughter should be to her father. As he released his hold on her he let his hands slide briefly along her hips before his hands returned at his sides.

“The bathroom is just a few doors down that way,” he instructed with a simple gesture as she provided him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be downstairs waiting for you.”

With that he turned and left her at her door so she could get ready for the night and for her dinner. It was going to be different having another person around. Not even just another person but a woman, his daughter. Jonathan hoped it wasn’t going to be something he regretted but she seemed like her old self, even better in some ways. Still, it was too soon to judge.

Jonathan took himself downstairs, turning left at the last step to take him into the kitchen. To make things a little easier he turned on the lights and a small radio he had stashed in the corner. There was something about televisions in the kitchen he was against. Perhaps there was too much attention diverted from the table. But up until now, he had no reason to look anywhere else.

The bathroom was small and well lit. There was a short stack of towels on the vanity, and a fresh bar of soap on the sink. Jolene ran the water for a few moments to fend off the chill before picking up the soap and rubbing it between her hands under the stream of water. She ran her hands over her face then rinsed before patting dry on one of the towels. The face looking back at her in the mirror wasn't the one she was used to seeing. Living with her mother had brought out a cold side Jolene had no idea she possessed. Tonight, she could already see that coldness wearing away. Just being in the same house with her dad for such a short time had changed her outlook.

When she found him in the kitchen waiting for her she smiled.

"You sit and relax, I've got this," she said as she made her way around the kitchen.

The radio in the window was tuned to a classic country station and Jolene could make out Baby Blue playing. It was her favorite George Strait song, one she and her dad used to sing when they were out driving around doing errands. They had logged quite a few miles, sometimes just driving around in the country to delay going home. Jolene didn't know that was the purpose at the time, but she figured it our eventually. She didn't like going home, either, once her dad had left.

Jolene hummed along with the chorus then two-stepped her way across the kitchen floor, sliding in her sock-clad feet. When she got to the stove she turned and curtsied to her dad, then went about gathering up the ingredients for dinner. Her dad was so predictable about some things, it was easy to determine where things were stored. Soup would be in the cabinets to the left of the stove, along with some canned tomatoes, if she knew him. She found these ingredients and a saucepan and lit the burner, humming along to the music as she stirred the tomatoes into the soup. She turned the heat to low then went to the fridge. No milk, but the soup would be fine without it. She found a brick of cheddar cheese, not even opened, in the drawer. Bread was all she lacked to complete the meal.

"Where do you keep the bread, Daddy?" she asked as she opened cabinets.

Most were close to bare, the sign of a bachelor's existence, one who didn't care to cook much. She glanced over to where she had noticed the toaster, and found half a loaf of wheat bread sitting next to it. Now she needed butter to grill the sandwiches. Back to the fridge, this time adding a spin to her two step, grabbing the stick of margarine she found in the door, then a reverse spin back to the stove. She hadn't felt like dancing in a long time, but something about her dad's presence had her feet feeling happy, and the rest of her too, for that matter.

The sandwiches took just a few minutes to toast in the skillet, and the soup was bubbling softly. She noticed the bowls and plates in the strainer by the sink, two of everything. She wondered if that had been done in anticipation of her arrival, or if her dad had been entertaining. She glanced at him sideways, struck again by the fact that he was a handsome man. Surely he had frequent guests. She hadn't even thought of that. Was she cramping his style being here? She would have to reassure him she would stay out of the way if he wanted to have "company." She felt a twinge of something in her gut when she thought of him with a woman. Was it jealousy? The Daddy's girl in her had always been a little possessive.

Jolene carried the bowls to the table first, then the plates. She placed them across from each other and put the spoons on the napkins.

"What can I get you to drink?" she asked while she put the pots and pans in the sink to soak while they ate.

Jonathan permitted her to do the work as he took her advice and sat back, relaxing in the kitchen chair. Since there was little else to do, he watched as his daughter roamed around the kitchen, getting used to things, making the right guesses as to where he had everything stored. She remembered more than he thought she would. And just as he was about to answer her about the bread he noticed her eyes make a line toward the location and held his tongue.

He let the silence run the kitchen for the moment as he listened to the soft sounds coming from her end of the kitchen. Something so simple easily filled the room with a familiar aroma, of something that always spoke of home. It wasn’t a feeling he had often had even though he’d been living alone and according to his own rules for so long. But then again, he’d always been something of a drifter even if there were a few foundations planted under his feet.

When the food was finally ready his eyes matched hers momentarily as she carried the plates and bowls to the table. But he wasn’t going to let her get him something to drink. There wasn’t much to drink in the refrigerator anyway, just a few coke cans. There was water in from the faucet but Jonathan had grown used to something else by now. And even if it were the first day with his daughter, he wasn’t going to let her interrupt the ritual.

His hand moved to the handle of the freezer where he pried it open, the seal breaking as a flood of cool air washed over his face. Inside were a few bottles of dark liquor, nothing else. There were a few cheap liquors inside which could only be chased with soda to get down but today he was going to go for something with a little less work. His fingers wrapped around the top of an Old #07 and he pulled it from the freezer, letting the door close behind him.

“If you like there’s coke in the refrigerator, or water,” Jonathan suggested as he set the bottle on the table, near where he was sitting. Then he spoke with a brief smile, antagonizing her, “Unless you want to be a big girl today.”

Jolene sensed a perplexing mix of challenge and invitation in her father's words. She was taken back to the Saturday morning cereal and cartoons days, when they had been inseparable. That same sense of conspiratorial camaraderie, us against her, washed over her and made the decision an easy one. She walked to the fridge and got a Coke, stopped at the sink and poured out an ounce or two, then set the can on the table.

"I am a big girl, Daddy," Jolene replied and reached for the bottle of whiskey.

She poured slowly, listening to the metallic pings as the bubbles bounced off the sides of the can. When she could see those same bubbles at the lip of the can, she stopped pouring and set the chilled bottle back down on the table in front of her dad. Her mother's words echoed faintly in her head just like your father, when the first sip burned her throat. The smell, sickly sweet, caused a short wave a nausea to wash over her. Once that was over, though, the drink went down easier, and by the time she had finished half the can, she was barely aware of the taste. She felt that sensation of being lighter and warmer flood her senses. By the time dinner was done, she was talking and laughing, telling her dad some stories even her mother hadn't heard. She didn't know if it was the alcohol, or her dad's presence, but she felt more alive than she had felt in a very long time.

When she got up to clear the dishes she wobbled just slightly, her sock covered feet sliding on the smooth floor. She caught herself before she dropped anything, though, and the near miss only added to her giddy sense of happiness. It only took a few minutes to wash and rinse the dishes, and she left them in the drainer beside the sink when she was done. The radio was still on, playing country classics. Lookin' for Love, drifted softly through the warm evening air that filled the kitchen. Her dad had taught her to two step to this very song, back when she could rest her head against his chest and feel his chin resting against the top of it when he pulled her close. Feeling a sudden urge to be held, she extended her hand in his direction and asked if he would dance with her.

"Please Daddy, just this one song? I know you don't like to dance, but you've always been my favorite partner," Jolene asked as she reached for him.

She was daddy’s girl. A slight smile broke across his once barren face as he watched his only daughter take the bottle of liquor, pouring its contents into her own can until it was suitably filled to the brim. Not only had he the opportunity to found a drinking party within these few hours, but he was beginning to find that his daughter was not too far behind. And now that she was older there was so much more they could do together.

Jonathan took her stories in stride, listening to each through a growing veil of alcohol. However, he was still far from gone and was sure he’d be able to remember them after the liquor had wore out its welcome by morning. Besides, his daughter, a beautiful growing woman was telling them. There was no possible way to disband his attention span for more than a few seconds as he watched her eat, drink, and tell.

By the time she had finished with her plate, his was empty as well. Jonathan allowed his daughter to take his plate, letting her become little Miss Homemaker. It was a title he was never willing to accept and having an able bodied woman perform those kinds of acts for him made everything just a little bit easier.

As a new song came across the radio he saw his daughter turn to face him, arm outstretched asking for a dance. After dinner, taking care of the dishes and drinking a little with him, it was almost impossible for him to refuse. Jonathan took down the remaining contents of his glass as he moved to stand, “Sure thing,” he allowed a smile. “As long as you promise to polish off your coke when we’re through and start on another mix.”

Then he stood from his chair, taking her hand as he moved in close to her body. With one hand on her hip and the other in her hand he began the dance, obviously rusty from the lack of any real relationships and a severely enforced no-male dancing clause he had for his home.

The room was warm, her dad's hands on her warmer. Jolene moved in closer, until her face was so close to his she could feel his breath on her forehead. She looked up into his eyes while they moved, slowly, smiled and continued to follow his lead. When the song ended, she stood on her toes and gave him a soft peck on the lips, stepped back, and curtsied.

"Thanks, Daddy," she said as she turned to finish her drink.

Two swallows and it was gone, and the idea of that second drink her father had mentioned sounded good. His glass on the table was empty, so she picked it up on her way back to the fridge, and set it down beside her cold soda can. Again, she poured out the first couple of ounces so there would be room for the whiskey. The bottle was less than half full, and when she finished mixing herself a strong one, it seemed a little ridiculous to put just that much back in the freezer. Without asking, she poured the rest in her father's glass and turned to hand it to him.

"I never drink alone," she said as she handed him the glass.

Then she turned and picked up her own drink, raised it in the air and offered up a toast. She felt warm and relaxed. Her father's handsome features, the face she often saw in her dreams, missed so much, was so close she could reach out and touch, without even moving from where she stood. The rush of emotions that poured over her in the warm, dimly lit kitchen, surprised her. When her can made contact with the glass tumbler in her father's hand, she felt that spark, the one she had felt earlier when she grabbed his belt loop and pulled him back.

"Here's to...," she stammered for a moment, not sure what she felt or wanted, not sure she should feel or want what was going through her mind.

"Here's to us, Daddy," she said, finally, tapping his glass.

Then she tipped her drink, letting the bubbles sting while she swallowed, causing her eyes to water just enough to blur her vision. The liquor didn't burn anymore, it just felt smooth as it slid easily down her throat and warmed her all the way down to her belly. Her body and mind relaxed together, letting the alcohol embrace her and lower her inhibitions. The feeling was familiar, too familiar for an 18 year old girl, but then, she came by it honestly enough. Both of her parents had been using alcohol all of her years to blunt the hurt and disappointment they hurled at each other before they had split. Tonight, Jolene felt none of those negative emotions. She was thrilled to have her father all to herself.

Years had passed and he was more than able to handle the effects that would intoxicate others. But everyone had a tipping point no matter how many times they raised the glass, the bottle, the cup to their lips. Jonathan was willing to find his that night and he was sure his daughter was well on her way there as well. It was more than just a night to get drunk on, even if the sun were still out, it was also a celebration of beginning something new with someone new.

Jonathan smiled at the curtsey she provided after the dance was through and while he appreciated the closeness of a woman he was more than happy to get it over with. There were other kinds of closeness he preferred and none of it involved standing next to someone else. As she went back to pour another drink Jonathan could do nothing but watch his creation as she moved about the room, not only refilling her glass but his own. They may have been separated before but she seemed to know exactly what he needed and that was a change he was going to welcome.

With glass in hand his eyes set on his daughter’s as she troubled herself to come up with a toast. Eventually she found the ‘to us’ and he broke into a brief smile again as he drank to her youthfilled hopes. Whereas she seemed to only take one he took to as it was only fair. And every drink made him feel so much better that she was here, that there was finally someone to share in his life.

“What do you propose we do with the rest of the night?” he questioned her. There were plenty of thoughts running through his mind, some he couldn’t suggest aloud, but since she was the guest and it was her first night here he wanted to make her feel as home as possible.

The warm, later afternoon light was just beginning to give way to the cooler, shimmery glow of evening. The drink she had just mixed was half empty before she knew it, and she hoped she wasn't drinking too fast, inviting the nausea back. She certainly didn't want her dad to think she was a light weight, or one of those girls who got sloppy drunk and couldn't take care of herself. Pace yourself, it isn't a contest, she chided herself.

What to do with the rest of the night? Jolene thought about their options. What if he had things to do? Writing, or what ever he did in the evenings before tonight, with her here to keep company? She didn't want him to think he had to entertain her, but she did want to be with him. Even if it was only for an hour or two, she felt a strong desire to re-establish their ties. Or was it something more?

His smile was soft, so very much what Jolene had missed in the time he had not been near. The way he could make her feel without saying a word, just that smile. Partners in crime, secret confidants, best buddies; that smile said it all. That's when she knew exactly what she wanted. The thought startled her, even in her slightly inebriated state. The can in her hand was sweating, and a drop of water touched her fingers on its way down the surface. She looked down in time to see the tiny splash on the shiny dark floor, contemplated the thought her mind wouldn't drop. Her experience with men, or boys, actually, had been made up of one disaster after another. Was it because they never measured up to the one man she had ever loved? Or was it just the alcohol, loneliness, and longing that were making her mind go places she had never contemplated before?

"It's been a long day, I know. Why don't we just relax, maybe watch a movie, or something? Or we could just look at pictures, and, talk, if you want," she heard herself rambling, talking too fast. She had a moment of panic, thinking he could see right through her, and would be shocked at what had just played through her mind. Her handsome dad, taking her face in his hands, kissing her with those lips, the ones smiling so sweetly at her now...god what he would think if he only knew.

There were plenty of interesting things to do in the world but talking wasn’t one of them. There was a constant reminder in his head telling him over and over that this was his daughter and talking should be as far as it went but he couldn’t help but think of her in other provocative poses. Jonathan was a man, a man who had been alone for a long time. He waved it off as nothing more than a need to find that closeness again. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to fuck his daughter.

“We can find a movie,” he spoke. Then he added, noting her struggles with the liquor, “And make a drinking game out of it.” However he was hardly serious. But it would be interesting to have his daughter let down whatever walls she had built up over the years. It would give him the opportunity to peek inside her and see if she were hiding anything.

Jonathan reaffirmed his grip on the drink and walked his way into the living room. It was spacious enough for two which could’ve been a surprise given his plight with life. A large flatscreen hung against the wall while a few rows of shelves sat full with movies off to the side.

As Jonathan made his way toward the couch he sat down on the middle cushion as he cast a glance toward his daughter, “Go ahead and pick out whatever you like. Just come over here and sit next to me after you’ve put the movie in.”

Drinking games; should she admit to her father she was familiar? She glanced down at the can in her hand, ascertained she probably had half, a little more left. It was enough for a start, if he was even serious. Surely not? she thought. But she wasn't going to disappoint him tonight. She followed him into the living room and set her drink on the table in front of the couch before she walked to the shelves and began picking through the titles. Should it be something they had watched together before, or was the distraction of an unfamiliar movie a good thing?

Jolene scanned the titles, her vision a little blurry. She settled on Casablanca, one they had watched together many times before. She had already forgotten about her dad's suggestion they play a game. She was looking forward to sinking down onto the sofa next to him and, well, she wasn't sure what the and would entail just yet. When she turned to join him she noticed he was sitting in the middle, so she would have to sit close, no matter which side she chose. She chose his left and sat down, close enough for her thigh to rest against his. Her head rested in the crook of his elbow behind her. Without a thought, she reached behind her and took his hand, pulled it across her, and leaned closer. The scent of him, his neck so close, made her feel content, restless, confused. She sipped her drink and hoped the alcohol wouldn't make it easy to go too far. But she didn't think the alcohol was entirely to blame for how she was feeling right now.

As the movie's opening credits started, Jolene watched the words get soft, blur a little around the edges. She set her almost empty drink on the table beside her and rubbed her eyes. She was determined not to fall asleep on the sofa before the movie even started. She was the one who had insisted they spend some time together. She didn't want to pass out on his lap before they even got to the good part...of the movie.