I swept her up in my arms and we both wept tears of joy. We had found each other after so long. The joy and the anticipation hit us as it never had before. We kissed deeply for a very long time. These were not the kisses of simple romance, I realized in a way I had not before, that I was head over heels in love. Darla was right, we needed just the right place and just the right time. That night we shared the same bed for the first time. Nothing happened. Darla wore one of my sweatshirts and a pair of my track pants. We just had to be close to each other. To see the dawn as a couple. Just to spend the night knowing that the person we loved most in all the world was lying next to us. In all honesty, in some ways it was better than sex.
With the dawn, we now knew what our future would be. It really was like planning for and anticipating a honeymoon. I asked Darla if she had any place in particular in mind. She got that beautiful far away look in her eyes and said, "Daddy, you are so good at making decisions, surprise me." After a moment she got a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and said, "There IS one thing you can do, Daddy, let me have your credit card so I can order something very special for when you unwrap me on New Year's Eve" I didn't even have to think about my answer to that request.
Things were going swimmingly. Darla still had some time before her classes began so we studied, picked each other's brains and enjoyed each other's company. And then Bonnie, my ex-wife tracked Darla down. Somehow, she obtained my cell phone number.She was madder than a wet hornet, accusing me of "stealing" her daughter and "corrupting" her away from the wonderful mother Darla had. Even though Darla was an adult, Bonnie could have made trouble for us. I had to produce Darla and demonstrate that I was not up to some nefarious purpose or the two of us would never be rid of her. Darla and I agreed to eat Thanksgiving dinner at Bonnie's house. Both of us were dreading the encounter, however, Bonnie and Darla NEEDED to face each other. My step-daughter had to give my ex-wife the big kiss off.
I helped Darla come to grips with the emotional baggage Bonnie had saddled her with. My ex-wife had trampled over my heart as well. In some respects, we were comrades in arms in a battle that left deep scars. We talked a lot, she cried a lot, and I comforted her as much as possible. For the occasion, I bought Darla a simple dress from a department store. For the first time since living under my roof, Dara would not be wearing stockings and garter under it. When the Holiday arrived, Darla, and I were as ready as we would ever be.
I rented a down market coupe for the day. If Bonnie had any inkling of how much money I now possessed, she would burrow into my life like a tick or a burr under a saddle. We had to get in. get out and wash the day from our memory. That was the plan anyway.
As we pulled up in front of the house I used to own. I could tell that things were not well. The lawn was a mess, dead grass and mounds of leaves that had not been raked. The recycle bin was overflowing with beer and vodka bottles. The house needed a paint job, probably a new roof, and a lot of little touches. It was obvious that the duties I had performed when married to Bonnie had gone undone for quite some time.
Bonnie greeted us at the door with a sauced smile. Her tight blue dress was no appropriate for a woman in her middle forties. There was quite a lot of exposed leg and decolletage. I noted, hating myself, that Bonnie still had fantastic legs and fine tits, but time was running out for her. She would not be able to attract young guys at all in only a few more years. My ex-wife was wearing too much makeup and cheap jewelry. Her nose was just beginning to wear the redness of alcoholism. Her eyes still sparkled but not with the luster I remembered. Bonnie welcomed us in and introduced us to Matt, her current boy toy. Matt looked only a few years older than Darla. I DETESTED the way he looked at my step-daughter.
To be sociable, Darla followed her mother into the kitchen to help set the table and prepare the meal. I sat as far away from Matt as possible, and the two of us watched football. We talked, after a fashion, Matt was monosyllabic at best. It was not long before the sound of elevated voices could be heard emanating from the kitchen. I got up and prepared to be the referee, a chore I had had to perform between Bonnie and Darla far more often than wanted to recall. Matt remained seated, an inert lump.
"I'm not living here, MOTHER because it is not healthy for me. Whatever you are, whoever you are, you were never my mother. Daddy cares about ME, MOTHER not booze and young guy's cocks.!"
Bonnie turned to face Darla and spat, "He's poisoning you against me. He was never any good."
"That's not true, Daddy LOVES me!"
"Daddy? He's NOT your father, Darla."
I never felt so good as when the next word issued from Darla's lips. "Yes he Is, MOTHER, he most certainly is!" I wanted to kiss her. Instead, I got them to agree to bury the hatchet for the sake of dinner.
As diplomatically as possible, I lied to Bonnie and told her that I had no designs on her daughter and that I was merely interested in seeing her get back on her feet again. I'm not sure she entirely believed me, but the actual truth was so alien to her consciousness, that Bonnie never suspected what was really going on.
A short time later we all sat down to dinner. Bonnie, despite her many faults, was always a world class cook. The way Matt inhaled his turkey, I concluded he was probably as equally interested in Bonnie's culinary skills as he was her pussy. "It all down hill from this guy." I thought to myself before I focused on more ennobling things. Darla was on her best behavior, I was as well. Darla and Bonnie remained civil throughout the course of the meal, although the effort obviously tore at both of them. With agonizing slowness, the hands of the clock crept to the point where the two of us could excuse ourselves and not simply be rude dashers.
The sight of my old house in the rear view mirror was as pleasing as the gates of Valhalla. As we rounded the corner, Darla confided to me that on one of her trips to the bathroom, Matt had cornered her and made a rather inelegant pass. "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked her.
"You know why, Daddy. If I had said something mother would have accused me of trying to seduce her boyfriend, of "leading him on." I could not stand to hear her call me a tramp again." And with that she teared up and I tried to find some soothing music on the car's radio. Once we had gotten a few miles away, I reflected that, had I not intervened, Darla could have easily become Bonnie in twenty years, seeking the love she never had, a string of meaningless affairs, and drugs or booze to numb the pain. I shuddered at the thought I might have turned Darla away.
When we got home we both felt like we needed a shower. So that is just what we did. Together! It was the first time I was completely naked in front of Darla. I was self-conscious about my middle-aged body, but my step-daughter did not even bat an eye. What, under other circumstances, would have been an erotic experience was anything but. Neither Darla nor I, after dealing with Bonnie, were in anything like a mood for love. Wrapped in towels we had a gripe session about my ex-wife. Both of us let off a great deal of steam. Perhaps intimacy would have flared up between us then, but we both considered the promise of the New Year. Bonnie had to be a million miles from both our minds when we made love and that sure as hell was not the case at present, so we both got ready for bed. For only the second time since Darla had moved in, I did not jerk off to her image before I drifted off to slumber.