Note: The author expresses his appreciation to user sgrspc69er for her editing improvements to this story.
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I had been up since just before 7 o'clock this morning, beating my alarm clock by the usual two to three minutes. It was not something I planned but rather something that had just happened almost every day of my adult life. It didn't matter what time the alarm was set to go off, my internal alarm seemed to be set for minutes before. During my 24 years in the military, I had usually had to roll out of my rack by 5:00 or 5:30 but sometimes earlier than that, and my internal alarm failed me on only two occasions that I could remember, both of which occurred while I was taking medicine to battle a respiratory ailment.
I didn't need to be us this early, truth be known, but it had been so long that 7:00 AM seemed like a decadent time to sleep in. When my wife of 26 years had died two years ago of cervical cancer, my world as I knew it had come apart and I didn't know what to do with myself. Without any interest in continuing my service, I took a retirement package to try to get my life back together but it wasn't that easy.
I didn't really need money because my wife had been a financial wizard, not only for the clients she worked hard for to grown their investments but for us as a family because she took virtually all of our pay, her as an investment councilor and me as a career military man, and invested it. By the time she died we were worth in the eight figures but it was too late then. The only person I wanted to spend it with was gone forever.
But then when the doorbell rang at 10:30 and Jennifer, my married 23 year old daughter, walked into my den like a small whirlwind, I thought that I was lucky to at least have her in my life. Jenny came over and hugged me, a real squeezer that would have embarrassed me if she had not been family. I felt her breasts press into my chest while other parts of her body brushed my crotch, stirring the sleeper that had not known companionship since Maureen died two years before.
Throwing her purse in the direction of the couch, Jenny said "Daddy, I came across something on the internet last night and it really disturbed me. I wanted to ask if you would read it with me and lets discuss it so I can get your viewpoint."
"Sure, honey. What's it about?"
"Well ... let's read it together instead of me trying to remember it, okay?"
"Okay, baby." We walked over to my computer in the corner of the den. I powered it up and then let Jenny sit at the keyboard.
As she found her site, she said "This is a place where people post all kinds of stories. I got interested in reading some of them a few years ago and I go back every so often to read something new. They really ... give me a pick up. Then I spotted this one last night after Evan had gone to sleep. It took me a while to read it and ... and then I ... well, I needed some help. I started to call you then but ... oh, my gosh, daddy. Come read over my shoulder."
I lay in bed trying to turn my mind off so I could get to sleep, but not being successful. If I could have written life's script, this is not how it would go.
Here I was, a 51 year old man, finally having sold my self-made machine shop and its two patents for enough money to retire at an early age ... and no wife to share my retirement with. Melissa, my college sweetheart and wife of fifteen years, had died of cancer when our daughters were 13 and 7 and I had raised them with the help of my mother, my two sisters, and some helpful neighbors.
Oh, I got lucky every once in a while, just long enough to empty my blue balls into some nice woman and repress my primal urges for another spell. But even though some of those matches repeated themselves from time to time with the same person, I never felt comfortable enough with any of the women to feel like replacing my wife. Somehow it just seemed like I was betraying her memory every time I bedded someone else. The result was that I was miserable whether I found someone to have sex with or not. So most of the time I went to bed with Mother Thumb and her four daughters, just getting past the most pressing need, and pushed back into the depths of my mind my interest in suckling a woman's soft breast or pressing myself into the smooth curves of a well-rounded ass or smelling the uniquely sweet scent of a woman's hair
. I could not help myself. This sounded so much like me. My hands, resting on Jenny's shoulders, momentarily dug into her soft skin
. There were so many things associated with being intimate with a woman ... and I just couldn't bring myself to pursue another woman in search of those, at least not on a lasting basis like I would have written into my script for Melissa and me.
Now I lay here worried that our oldest daughter Faith was experiencing a similar kind of meltdown that I had. She had married during her last year of college, just as Melissa and I had, and had a seemingly loving marriage but then her husband Bradley had gotten into drugs and became abusive, refusing to accept any kind of treatment and Faith had finally packed her bags and moved back home with me yesterday. She had no job, didn't know what she could do, and didn't have any idea where to start.
Nor did I know how to help her, really. I knew I would be supportive and told her that she could have her old bedroom back for as long as she needed it. After all she was my flesh and blood. However with Hope, our youngest daughter, finishing her senior year at the university and contemplating marketing jobs in either Chicago or New York, I prayed that Faith would find something close to home. I wanted her to be independent but I also wanted the comfort of one or both of my children within easy visiting distance in my later years. It might even be nice to be a grandparent some day.
It hit me like a ton of bricks that I too wanted the comfort of my daughter Jenny being nearby and coming to visit often. She was a real comfort to me although it crossed my mind that I probably didn't actually tell her that often.
All these thoughts and others were churning through my mind and I found myself listening to the grandfather clock in the hall bonging twelve times and then later it emitted the half-hour sound and finally I heard the one o'clock chime. I was thinking about getting up and going down for a cup of coffee or something when I heard a rustle of cloth in the dark. My ears perked up and I listened to see if it came again. Instead I was startled when the bed shook slightly and Faith's whispered voice asked "Daddy? Are you awake?"
"Yes," I replied. "I haven't been able to get to sleep."
