Little One sat patiently at the large desk in Daddy's study, practicing her most professional voice, waiting for someone to answer the phone. In a few seconds, she heard a delightfully smooth feminine southern accent.
"Thank you for calling Diamond Gulf Property Management. This is Grace. How may I hepyoo?"
Little One smiled before replying. The woman sounded a little like Daddy.
"Hello, I'm calling on behalf of Robert Pater. May I speak with someone about making his house ready for occupancy, please?" "Yes ma'am, I can hepyoo with that. When will Mr. Pater arrive?"
Little One quickly read the dates and waited as she listened to the woman tap on her keyboard. It felt a little strange to be addressed as 'Ma'am". Even though Daddy was "Sir" to most people, it never occurred that she might be Ma'am to someone.
"Will Mr. Pater be having guests?" Little One had not expected this question.
"I don't think so," Little One said hesitantly. "Just the two of us."
"That's fine. Is there anything you will need during your stay?" Another unexpected question.
"I don't know." Little One answered. "I've never been there before."
"Oh, Honey, you are going to have a wonderful time. It's a lovely house. We'll go in the day before you arrive and open all the windows and put fresh linens on the beds. The pantry will be full of good stuff to eat and Mr. Pater's brandy will be in the liquor cabinet."
"Thank you, so much," Little One answered.
"Well, thank you as well, Mizz Pater. If there is anything else I can do for you, please call me."
"Yes, I will, good bye." Little One put the phone down and closed her eyes, not waiting to hear the click. "Mizz Pater" was running through her head, wondering why the woman would think she was Robert Pater's daughter. She had been careful not to say "Daddy". Suddenly it hit her. "Mizz" means "Mrs." Little One closed her eyes and sat still, wondering how Cinderella would have felt if someone at the ball had called her "Mizz Prince Charming".
The heavy fat pen that stayed on Daddy's desk was in her hand and she watched "Mrs. Robert Pater" flow from the tip in her perfect school girl script.
"Mizz Robert Pater," she said aloud and giggled. Little One picked up the phone receiver and said "Hello. Yes, this is Mizz Pater," to the dial tone. The receiver rattled as her shaking hand tried to place it back on its cradle. "Hello," she repeated as she stood and extended her hand to an imaginary guest. "I am Mizz Pater. I am so happy you could be with us tonight." Little One wrapped her arms over her breasts and closed her eyes. She could feel her heart beating fast and took a deep breath to steady herself.
"Mizz Robert Pater," she whispered and dashed from the study, grazing the doorway as she ran through the front room, sliding on the slick floor past the stairs and came to a stop by the large mirror in the hall. Little One stopped dead and stared at her reflection. She rose on the balls of her feet and the slick soled blue flats she always wore around the house had been replaced with white satin pumps. Daddy's big white shirt became a long white dress. Her hands held the wide lace of a wedding gown above her knees as she turned one foot to view the dangerously high heel.
Little One studied the lace a moment and decided it was too ornate. She let it drop over the toes of her shoes and it became the plain hem of a satin gown. Her hands slid up over the smooth fabric to lift and cup her breasts. This is where the lace should be, she thought. A wide band of lace circled her waist just above where the gown draped over her hips. Vine like curls rose from the band, sprouting leaves and delicate flowers as they spread across the bust. She dropped her hands and stared at her bare white shoulders and tight cleavage.
"Oh my," she said aloud, wondering if a person could breathe in so tight a wedding gown. The word 'wedding' made her shudder and her face was suddenly red. She bent and grabbed the hem again and bolted up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, hoping her heels would not catch on the stair tread, not slowing down until she fell backwards on the big bed in Daddy's bedroom.
The ceiling fan turned over her head. Little One tried to concentrate on the slow moving blades, wanting to block wedding images, but it did not help. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of Daddy's cologne was in the sheets. Little One moaned and put her hands over her face. This fantasy was too intense. She tried to wipe it from her mind, but it played like a video full of fast cuts, flashing to one scene to another. A church full of people stared at her, but she could not imagine who they might be.
Little One sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her reflection in the dessing mirror, watching the blush fade from her cheeks. The wedding gown was gone, changed back into Daddy's shirt. She felt a sudden emptiness. When she lived in the Home, she had learned it was easier to not want things. When she came to live with Daddy, she had not wanted for anything. Wanting was a strange feeling.
Little One awoke and opened her eyes to an unfamiliar sight. The light was coming from the wrong side of the room and the sheets felt different. It was a moment before she realized she was at the Beach house. The air smelled different and there was faint roar. It sounded almost like a strong wind, but softer. Daddy was not with her, but his pillow was pushed close to hers, just as it would have been in her regular bed.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking around the room. It was simply furnished, but very neat. It had been dark when they arrived the previous night and the long drive exhausted her. She barely remembered Daddy carrying her from the car and placing her in bed. Her clothes were draped over a chair, but she was not sure if Daddy undressed her, or she had done it herself.
The wooden floor creaked under her feet as she stepped through the door and found herself in a large room that stretched from one corner of the house to the other. The far wall was all large windows which looked onto a wooden deck. Beyond the deck was a blue gray horizon. Little One's eyes adjusted to the bright daylight and she saw a brilliant white beach stretching down to the water of the Gulf of Mexico.
She pushed the door open and a stiff breeze pulled it away from her. There was another house to the right, with more beyond it and large high rise buildings farther down the beach. Little One looked around for people, but there was no one in sight. She walked to the rail of the deck and stood there, letting the salty air blow over her naked body. The deck was at least twelve feet above the ground and gave her a full view up and down the beach. The morning sun was just over the tall buildings in the east and the sky was turning a brilliant blue with patches of bright white clouds.
A few people walked by the edge of the surf, but they were too far away to see her. A man stood up by the water, directly in front of the house. He held a long fishing rod in both hands and swung it over his head. Little One recognized the shape of Daddy. Even at this distance, his wide shoulders and large arms were distinct. Her first impulse was to bound down the wooden steps, but thought she ought to dress first. Little One had brought an entire suitcase with beach wear, but didn't take time to unpack. She pulled up the shorts she had worn in the car and grabbed Daddy's shirt, snapping the top two buttons as she ran barefoot down the stairs.
Little One tried to run, but her feet sank to the ankles in the dry sugary sand, pulling all strength from her calves and thighs in just a few yards. Daddy had vanished below the horizon and she had to plod with slow deliberate steps toward the Gulf. The white sand became darker and firmer, making it easier to walk.
Daddy was sitting on a mat, close to the surf wearing only a pair of ragged cutoff pants. A large ice chest was on one side and his fishing rod was on the other. It was held upright in a piece of plastic pipe and the line stretched out into the water. Little One stopped to catch her breath. The walk from the house was more labor than she imagined possible.
She called to him, but the roar of the waves covered all sounds. Daddy sat still, watching a large orange float bob in the swells. Every other swell would form a wave and the float vanished in the foam to reappear on the other side as it passed. Suddenly the rod bent toward the surf and the reel spun as the orange float was pulled under. Daddy stood and took the rod in hand, letting a little more line play out before sharply jerking back. He dipped the rod slightly and turned the handle, keeping the line tight. The muscles across his back rippled under the skin as he twisted at the waist to raise the rod slowly, keeping the tip bent under the strain.
Little One dashed the short distance over the wet sand to stand by his side. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "You caught a fish." Daddy grinned at her without letting up on his effort. "Let's hope so." The float reappeared and darted left and right as the fish was pulled into shallow water. A flash of silver broke the surface and the helpless fish flopped as the wave receded, leaving it gasping in the air.
Daddy held the rod high in his left hand, keeping the line tight as he bent down and picked the fish up by the gill. The fish continued to flop as it hung from Daddy's fingers. It was almost as long as his arm and reddish brown iridescent waves ran down its scales as it flexed. A large round spot just at the tail fin looked like another eye.
"Daddy, it's beautiful. What kind is it?" "This is usually called a redfish, but today, this is a lunchfish." Daddy set the rod back into the pipe and curled the fish into the ice chest. The ice rattled and the chest rocked as the redfish settled into its new home. He turned to Little One, obviously quite proud of himself. "Do you want go for a swim?"
Little One looked as the brownish green water. A small wave washed foam around her bare feet. " Swim? You mean in there?" She had just seen a fish almost half her size come out of the water and now was not sure she wanted to go where there might be more.
"You can swim, can't you?" Daddy asked.
