1. All characters are 18+
2. No characters represent real people
3. Enjoy the fiction
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CHAPTER 5
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Thankfully, the work week ended easily. Melody and I decided not to spend Friday night together, since we'd see each other the following afternoon at her parents' house. But she did send me several scandalous texts, accompanied by a hot picture of her, holding her breasts with her arm.
I was putting my phone down after enjoying the picture, when it dinged again. It was a text from Harmony, telling me she was looking forward to seeing me again. It also included a risque picture, of her wearing a bikini. Again, I didn't respond. I had been looking forward to the next day until I remembered Harmony would be there too.
Don't get me wrong, I thought Harmony was very attractive. If I was a few years younger, and not dating her sister, I'd be very interested. But I was in love with Melody, and didn't want anything to ruin that.
On Saturday, I threw on a nice polo and khaki shorts, preparing myself to meet Melody's parents. I tried to put Harmony out of my mind, and focused on the nice day ahead. The weather was good, and I was told Melody's dad would be grilling out. I grabbed a small bouquet of daisies for Melody's mother on the way.
When I got to the house, I realized it was quite large, and in a good neighborhood. I hadn't realized that Melody's family was wealthy, and hadn't thought to ask. I grabbed the bouquet and headed to the front door, hoping Melody would be the first face I see.
But when the door opened, it was Harmony who stood there. "Hi sexy," she said, batting her eyes. She was wearing a tight yellow tank top, showing off her cleavage, and short black shorts, displaying smooth legs.
"Hi Harmony. Please don't call me that," I said, looking around, hoping no one else heard that.
"Relax, everyone else is out back. Come on in."
Harmony led me inside, through the living room and kitchen, to the back door. Melody sat at a table across from a blonde woman I assumed was her mother. Her father had his back to me as he worked the grill.
Melody's eyes lit up as I came outside. "Hey!" she called, standing up and running to me for a quick kiss.
I looked behind her to her mother. "Hi Mrs. George, I'm Tom," I said, handing her the small bouquet.
"Hi, Tom, it's nice to meet you," she replied. "Please call me Jennifer." Then she turned around to call to her husband. "Bob?"
Mr. George turned around from the grill and looked at me. I suddenly felt the glare of a father who was worried about his daughter. I decided to break the ice. "Hi Mr. George. Thanks for having me over," I said, offering my hand.
He looked me over for another second, before he took my hand. "Thanks for coming, Tom. Want a beer?"
"I'd love one, yes," I said, relieved a bit. I followed him into the kitchen, where he grabbed two beers from the refrigerator, and handed one to me. His brown hair was the same color as Harmony's, but it was starting to thin on top.
"Now," he said, "let's talk about you and my daughter." My relief was replaced by fear again. "Harmony tells us you've only been dating for what, 2 weeks?"
"Yes, sir."
"And already having sex?"
I couldn't look him in the eye. "Yes sir."
He glared at me. "I'm disappointed. I thought I raised my daughter better than that."
I waited for him to yell at me, but he didn't. "I love her, sir," I said, breaking the momentary silence.
He looked at me suspiciously. "Is that right?" He walked closer to me. "And you've told her that?"
"Yes. And she's told me she loves me."
"Hmm," came his reply. "Hmm. Well. She's an adult with her own job and her own home. I guess I can't say much about her choices anymore." He put his hand on my shoulder. "It is good to meet you. If you're making her happy, then it makes me happy too."
"Thank you, sir."
"Call me Bob, Tom."
"Thanks Bob. I hope I do nothing but make Melody happy."
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We talked for another minute, guy to guy. When returned outside, Melody's mother Jennifer had taken over the grill, so Bob relieved her. Melody whispered to me, "Are you and my dad okay?" I quickly nodded, and she looked relieved.
Over dinner, I told Bob and Jennifer about my job, and how I worked in the same downtown building as Melody. They, in turn, told me about their careers as musicians. Jennifer was a violinist in the orchestra, and Bob played trumpet for multiple groups around town. They told me that Melody had tried playing some piano and never got the knack, but Harmony turned out to be pretty proficient at it.
"But I'm really more into my guitar right now," said Harmony. "I write songs, and sometimes I sing at coffee houses."
"I'd like to hear that sometime," I said. I was really trying to play the part of the supportive sister's boyfriend, but I'm sure Harmony took it too much to heart. Her eyes and smile both widened.
"I'll get my guitar," she exclaimed, and ran off. I looked around the table, but Melody and both parents looked pleased. Harmony returned with her guitar, and sat on a nearby stoop, away from us a little ways.
She sang a pretty song. Her voice was well-matched to the tone of her guitar. But it was the lyrics that put me on edge. It was about how she was obsessed, how she couldn't think about anyone else, how she couldn't stop loving the guy in the song. I was sweating. I was sure she'd written the song about me.
When she finished, everyone applauded, myself included. Bob and Jennifer were clearly proud of their musical daughter. I looked at Melody. She was smiling too, but I wondered if she felt a little jealous that she'd never gained those musical skills.
After dinner, we went inside. Bob stayed outside to clean the grill. Melody volunteered to help her mother with the dishes. That left me alone with Harmony. She grabbed me by the arm. "Come on," she said, "help me put my guitar away." I doubted she needed help, but I couldn't get away without being rude, so I allowed myself to be dragged out of the kitchen.