I walked into the kitchen with the groceries, wondering if I would have enough time to get everything done...the holidays were always so rushed and I could never seem to get everything done. I was also worried - the conversations I'd overheard had mentioned storms moving in and I wanted to check the weather. After I finished putting up the groceries, I went into the living room to turn on the TV - and my phone rang. Cursing modern technology - after all, I had a million things to do; what if it was my mother wanting to talk? - I pulled out my cell phone and looked at the screen.
When I saw the number on my phone, though, I stiffened in shock. It was my dad - I almost never heard from him after he and Mom divorced, and I was totally surprised. I was even more surprised when he said, in an urgent tone of voice, "Sweetie, I need your help - I want to have a party for you and your sister and brother tomorrow night. I just lost track of time and neither your brother nor your sister are answering their phones. Can you please help me?"
I sighed. I knew that my father had always been like this - spontaneous, unorganized - and I also knew that as the oldest, I would of course bail him out. I did feel a bit troubled, though - my father and I had always had an uneasy relationship, and during my teen years it had become worse. I shivered as I recalled many fights we had that had always led to physical contact - me slapping him and then him grabbing me, pulling me up to him...we always ended up with him and I being pulled apart from each other and me feeling odd and - something I hated to admit, even in my deepest thoughts - aroused. I never remembered my siblings getting into those fights - my sister never did anything my mother didn't tell her to do, and my brother was Daddy's boy. I often wondered what it was that drove my father and I to fight like that.
All of this flashed through my mind as I said, with only a trace of irritation in my voice, "Sure, Dad - it'll take me a while, but I'll be there." I could hear the relief in his voice as he responded, "Oh great! I'll be waiting." I hung up, grabbed my purse and hurried out to the car - forgetting to look at the weather report.
Dad lived about an hour out of town, in a wooded secluded area. It was not easy to find, but after only one false trail and a bit of backtracking, I finally found the drive and pulled in. Dad came to the door and waved to me, "Come on in!" I walked up to the house as a few lazy flakes started to fall and cursed myself for not looking at the TV before I came over. What if the people in the store were right? I'd be snowed in out here with my dad...the man I still had difficulty dealing with. But I knew I was already here and had to deal with things, so I took a deep breath and walked into the house.
I could smell a wood fire and hear the jazz my father always favored -- but this jazz was slower tempo, softer...more like the type of music you dance to, not get work done to. Dad could already procrastinate like no one's business, and I worried that the tempo would cause him to slow down. But when I saw the list on the kitchen island and noticed that Dad had actually come up with a game plan, I relaxed. Maybe he was improving!
Dad suggested we eat lunch first and then tackle decoration and prep-ahead items. I was pleasantly surprised at how industrious my dad was, and I agreed lunch sounded wonderful. We made a delicious salad and grilled fish -- I also noticed Dad's cooking skills had improved -- and as we ate, I kept looking over at him. As I said before, I'd always had a latent attraction for my father -- all my friends used to tell me how lucky I was to have such a hunk for a dad -- and I noticed that he was looking even better: more fit, more relaxed. I felt an odd stirring in between my legs and had to fight the urge to keep crossing and un-crossing my legs. I didn't want to give my dad the wrong idea, and my skirt was already hiking up my legs far too much for my comfort zone. I noticed then that my dad was looking at my skirt -- and my legs -- and that he seemed a bit uncomfortable as well.