Best Friends

Chapter Five

Doug told me to go shower and that he would clean up the mess. I scooped up my clothes, got my overnight bag by the front door, and went to the washroom without another word. I stood under the water for a long time, trying to calm myself down with the gentle stream cascading down my chest. I finally washed myself off, then got out of the shower and put on some sweats and a plain T-shirt. I'd spent almost half an hour under the water.

I brushed my teeth (for the second time that night), washing away the taste of sex. I felt a pang of disappointment for cleaning it out, but at the same time I felt guilty that it had been there in the first place.

When I came out of the bathroom, I walked shyly towards the living room. Doug was dressed again, and he was on his hands and knees, scrubbing a spot on the carpet. He didn't hear me approach, so I tried to sneak up closer to see the damage. I wasn't quiet enough, though, and he looked up at me as I came into the room. I glanced at the carpet.

"Is it coming out?" I asked.

"Yeah, just takes some work," he said, returning back to the stain.

I stood there awkwardly for a moment before I went to the kitchen to get a rag. I plucked one from out of the linen drawer, then went back to the living room. He had a bucket with carpet cleaner solution inside, so I dipped the cloth in the suds and squeezed out the excess water before I blotted it on the carpet.

Doug slowly stopped his scrubbing, then put his hand over mine. I froze, caught off guard by his action. "Don't worry about it, I've got it covered."

He didn't take his hand off of mine, though. I stared at him pointedly while he averted his gaze.

"Do you really regret it that much?" I asked. As hard as I tried, my voice still quivered slightly from anger and disappointment.

Realization slowly grew on his face, and he slowly looked up at me sympathetically. "It's not like that, Sarah. It's just that... you're a kid. My friend's kid, an'... this sort of thing shouldn't happen."

I was still a little miffed, but I couldn't help but agree with him. I couldn't see us fucking again, as much as I would have loved to. The taboo feeling was just too much to endure. What should have been an afterglow was an aftermath.

I nodded and shrugged. "Thanks, though."

He took his hand off mine, then lightly held my chin between his forefinger and thumb. I looked at him questioningly, and he smiled warmly before he softly kissed me on the lips.

"Just a one time thing. It was fun, though."

I gave a short laugh and smiled back. "Yeah."

When he let go of me, I knew that was the seal to the deal. No more physical contact, let alone sexual contact. He went back to scrubbing at the stain, and I helped him. When it was done, I got a dry hand towel and blotted the wet spot dry. By the time I was done, the carpet was stain-free and clean; it looked as if nothing had ever happened at all.

*****

I spent the rest of the night in my room, reading a book. By about a quarter after eleven, I heard the front door open and close. Doug's and my dad's voices hummed from behind my door. I put my book down and went out to see him.

When I stepped out of my room, my dad was just hanging up his jacket. His cheeks were tinted pink and his thin brown hair was ruffled from his hard hat.

"Hey, honey!" he said softly, waving at me. He was usually more friendly and enthusiastic towards me in the first five minutes of our visits. "Doug didn't give you much trouble, did he?"

My smile almost faltered, but I didn't glance over at him. "No."

"That's what he told you to say, I bet," my dad said, chuckling and bending down to unlace his boots. I dared a look over at Doug then, and found that he had dared a look at me, too.

"Sorry I'm so late guys," my dad began, pulling off his left boot then working on the right. "That was a right mess down at the site. I barely just got it finished before I jumped back into the car and hoofed it over here."

"It's okay," I said, finding that I was genuine in my words. Not only because his absence allowed me to have about a half-hour long, satisfying sexcapade, but because I realized that my dad really did want to be here on his birthday. I suddenly realized that I had a new-found appreciation for him.

"Well, I'm still sorry," he said, putting his boots away and stepping into the room. "So, where's my birthday present?" he said, holding his arms out.

I laughed. "You mean the pizza? It's in the fridge," I said, motioning over to the kitchen.

"No, no, no, no," he said, waving his hand about and coming towards me. "I want my real birthday present."

He stepped up to me and wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me tight. I squeaked a bit in surprise; my dad always tried to hug me, but he was always waiting for me to deny him the hug first. He just went right ahead and ambushed me this time.

But I found that I didn't want to turn down his hug. In fact, having my dad's arms around me was the most comforting thing I'd felt in weeks. I smiled happily and wrapped my arms around him too. I could just see over my dad's shoulder, and I saw Doug watching us, smiling warmly at me.

I rested my head on his chest and said, "Happy birthday, Dad."