Madison took her phone out and looked for a notification, but didn't find it. She scanned the bar and watched for anyone resembling the man she matched with on Tinder. It was now 45 minutes past the time he said they would meet. She wore a form fitting grey low cut sleeveless grey shirt, and a pair of jeans, that had a hole in the thigh. She wondered if he saw her and bailed, maybe it was the regular pair of flip flops on her feet?
Trying not to think about it, she downed the the last shot in front of her, paid the tab, and began walking out. All around her there were guys, all with a woman, having a good time, or at least it seemed that way. Chatting, flirting, one woman gave her man The Look. The signature look in her eye that signaled she wanted to be in private with him, or at least in the one person bathroom at the back of the bar. Madison shook her head and continued walking out the opposite end of the bar.
Once at her car, she got in and locked the door, then got out her phone. She asked the assistant to text "Daisy", her friend from all the way back in middle school and now roommate.
"This was a major waste of time, he was a dick, I fucking hate him. No show. Drunk, going to sleep in the car, talk later." Then "send," then "yes." Because assistants need more than one confirmation to send a message?
And with that she blacked out in the car. Apparently one drink in a half hour and then six shots in fifteen minutes was some kind of limit for her.
When she woke up though, she was not in the car, she was at home. And it was the next morning.
The blanket that covered her was warm, and the house was cool. She wore jeans, and the tshirt from the night before. First dates were never her thing and she liked feeling more like an instant friend to guys. Dressing like them made it easier. The bed wasn't too warm with her clothes on either. It was that nice time of year where you could just use a blanket and not worry about heating or cooling the house. And this run down "apartment", that was actually a two bedroom house in University Alley in her hometown, was not well insulated.
She had a headache. That's the second thing she noticed after the warmth. The third thing was the pain meds and her filled water bottle on the nightstand. Daisy saved the day.
Having taken the meds and drank some water, she got up and noticed she was in the same clothes as the night before. Holding her head, she walked out her bedroom door into the common room.
"Oh shit," she whispered. There was a man's leg sticking out from under one of the better blankets where he lay sprawled on the couch. Slowly, she inched closer and lifted the blanket. He'd slept in his pants. His shirt was bunched behind him revealing his ever so slightly rounded belly. A man with a dad bod in her house?
"Daisy!" she whispered. "What rando did you bring home?" And why did she have him sleeping on the couch?
Madison walked quietly to Daisy's room and found the door open, nobody in the bed. Nobody in the bathroom either now that she checked. After moving back to the couch, absent-mindedly running her hand across the thin shirt where it covered her small breasts, she took one more look at his body and slowly lifted the blanket to uncover his face.
A sick, sinking feeling came over her.
"Dad!?" She almost yelled this, and he sat straight up on the couch. "Hm? Yeah, heyyy.." he tiredly did finger guns at her before realizing what was actually happening. "Oh good morning. How are you feeling?"
Madison stood stunned.
"How did you get in here? Where did you come from? WHY are you here?" she looked perplexed and incredulous at the same time.
"Oh," he said, "I got your text." Her father reached into his clearly full pocket (of what? she wondered) and got out his phone, opening and showing her the text message she sent to Daisy the night before.
"What?" she said exasperatedly. Then ran into her room to get her phone.
Sure enough, the text message meant for "Daisy", was right there under "Daddy".
"I must have slurred my words and sent it to you instead of Daisy." she said, stunned as she walked back into the room.
"Classic mix up. But I'm happy it was me! I got you out of the car with my spare key, and into the house using your keys, and in bed, safe and sound. Did you take the headache meds? The way you sounded last night told me you might need them."
"Yeah, I took the meds, dad, thank you. I still have a splitting headache, though, so I'll probably sit around here today and feel sorry for myself." She plopped herself down onto the sofa beside him.
"Oh yeah, the guy. Yikes. He ghosted you?"
"Dad, can we not talk about this?"
"Sorry, yeah, I mean no, we don't have to." He stood and turned away to straighten his clothes.
Madison watched him for a second and awkwardly looked away. Luckily he hadn't seen her looking at him while he slept.
"Well look, you're welcome to come back to the house and be miserable. There's a ton of good food, a huge TV for the game later, and all the drinks you want. After all, sometimes a buzz is the best hangover cure."
"No, dad, it isn't and you know that." She laughed and threw a pillow at him, then held another pillow in her lap, moping and closing her eyes to try to get rid of the headache. He laughed too and caught the pillow, then sank back into the couch next to her. His big arm wrapped around her shoulder, their heads pulled together to touch at the forehead.
"There are other guys in the world, you know. You have plenty of time." Letting her go, he sat upright and hugged the pillow in his lap to mimic her.
"I know. It feels horrible at the moment though. Like I'll just be alone with twenty cats or plants or something."
"Ok, promise you won't do that?" he asked playfully.
Madison laughed out loud and her spirit brightened.
"Yeah, ok. Thank you dad."
She sighed and thought for a moment.
"Ok, so I don't know where Daisy is, and this place is depressing right now. Yeah, can you take me home? I'd like that."
He smiled at her, stroked her head, then got up and put his shoes on. "Let's get going then."
Madison gathered clothes, her water bottle, and a bag with a few other things in anticipation of a long weekend, and walked out the door with her father. Her car was in the driveway.
"Did you drive my car back?"
"Oh yeah-" he started. "Put you in the back seat and drove it here. My car is at the bar, let's go there first."
Madison paused thinking a moment.
"Wouldn't someone have been suspicious of you moving a clearly drunk woman around in her car and then driving off?"
"Hopefully! I would be upset if nobody was suspicious. But actually.. yeah I did get lucky didn't I." He grimaced and she laughed loud enough that the neighbors probably heard. Fingers grabbed the bridge of her nose, staving off the pain.
After picking up her dads car, they pulled up to his house. A nice two story in the hills. Very green, big front porch, a nice view of the city out the back yard. She grew up here. Her parents' first house together.
After twenty two years married, they'd separated. It was found out that her mother was experimenting with women, and her dad, who was not happy with this development, grew to be ok with his ex-wife being happier. Eventually. He was lonely ever since though, and it was increasingly becoming a thing that Madison would spend the weekend at her dad's to catch up and keep him company.
Her old room was still the way she left it. She'd only been out of the house and in college for a year and a half.
After dropping her bags on the bed, she pocketed her phone and went downstairs to get breakfast. Her father, who was showering, mentioned earlier something about making breakfast, so she doubled back to get herself a shower. As she left the kitchen, a piece of paper on the refrigerator door marked with a man's name and a phone number caught her eye.
She raised an eyebrow at it and continued on.
The water pressure and heat of it was amazing. The time spent in her apartment made her long for the days where she could shower at home. Her dad kept all her soaps stocked, as she was here almost every weekend. Soapy water ran down her milky skin, tickling her legs as it dripped down into the basin. She felt so refreshed, the memory of the previous night lingered only in what was left of her headache.
Once done, she threw on a pair of blue sporty shorts, and a white tshirt. Basketball shorts were longer than these, she normally used them for running. Her breast size was on the smaller side, and they did move around when she ran, but there was not going to be any running around this weekend so she skipped the bra. Maybe on one of the warmer days she would go running.
After properly drying her neck length hair, she walked down stairs to find her dad puttering around the kitchen. "Hi," she said, slicking back her hair and sitting down on one of the bar stools on the other side of the white marble-topped island from him.
"Hi!" he said enthusiastically. However, he quickly followed it up more seriously with "One of us is going to have to change," while walking around the counter to reveal they'd chosen the same clothes to wear.
"Awe what?" She said, playfully exasperated. "Why do the only comfortable items of clothing have to come in all the same colors?"
They laughed together, then she stood, but he placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
"No, no, I'll go change." He left the room, and she found herself watching him leave. His upbeat demeanor, a straighter back, even his facial expressions were happier than last weekend. She made a mental note. Had he met someone? Was it just that she was there to give him company? Glancing at the refrigerator, the piece of paper was now missing.
She puzzled about it and after a few moments he came back, offering her something to drink. "You can fill up your water bottle, but there is really good coffee, orange juice, those beers," he added tongue-in-cheek, and quickly started working with the ingredients to make pancakes.
She smiled big and wagged a knowing finger at him. Her headache had subsided more, but she didn't want to make it come back. He smiled right back.
"This is way better than sitting and moping in an empty apartment.."
He looked up for a second and did a finger gun at her, nodding his head. "We'll get out the ice cream and drown our feelings in it later tonight."
She nodded coolly.
As he turned to get the pancake batter bowl down, she found herself doing the same thing as this morning, looking at his strong legs. She wished she had legs like that, then going running for those long miles would feel like a cake walk. He stood on one foot and reached up, his shoulders broad and strong. He must not have had a problem picking her up and carrying her around the car.
"So what's the odds on the game today? Did they say?" she asked. She really had been into basketball since she was a child. The smell of the court, the lights. Even the squeak of shoes on the court. She played in high school and did well, couldn't play in college though, and ultimately landed on engineering for her degree track. Then four months later that nightmare ended when she switched to nutrition.
"They say we have good odds, projected 10 point spread at the half."
