My father and I never saw eye to eye when he was married to mom. We'd always butt heads or fight about ridiculous things. It also didn't help that he over indulged himself in a bottle of whiskey or a nice cold one every night.
After my parents divorced though, things changed. I stayed with my mother for the longest time. My father, Roger, left to Houston Texas and was dating numerous amount of women. It seemed every time I spoke to him on the phone, he had a new flavor. I started college when I turned 23, and decided to visit my dad when I had a summer off.
So there I was. In Houston Texas. The skyscrapers surrounding the airport were massive. Nothing I had ever seen in the south. The only other time I had seen buildings this tall was when I was a kid back in California, but those memories were vague.
I hopped into a cab and we spun off to the address my father had given me.
"It's the third house on the left, sweetie. It has the red minivan." He had explained to me.
Apparently though, the taxi driver knew exactly where to go. I paid him, and got my bags out of the trunk, standing for what seemed an eternity in front of my father's house.
I hadn't seen him for 10 yrs. The last thing I remembered of him was his back as he turned around to walk out on my mom. It was a bittersweet time for me. But, now that I'm a woman. I do wish I had a closer relationship with my father. That's why I had decided on this trip.
I knocked on the red stained door, and waited. I heard the clicking of the lock, and standing in front of me was my father. His dark blue eyes twinkled through the thin rimmed glasses that sat snug on the bridge of his nose. My heart sank suddenly. My dad was almost in his fifties, but he looked amazing. He wore a white buttoned down shirt, that was tucked nicely into some light blue jeans, they were tight on him, because when I glanced down, I could see a slight bulge. I blushed a little, bringing my gaze back up to my father's masculine face.
"Daddy!" I said as a greeting, dropping my bags and wrapping my arms around his neck. He was always taller than me. I was a mere five foot four, so I literally had to jump to grab at his neck. He stood at six-two.
He chuckled at me and wrapped his perfectly tanned arms around me, picking me up a bit off the ground and squeezing me tightly. My breasts pressed against his chest.
"I'm so happy to see you, Danielle, it's been forever."
"10 yrs, but who's counting?" my voice was sarcastic and playful as I spoke, I moved some of my shoulder length blonde hair out of my face as I watched him grab my bags.
"Right, well let's get you settled in then. I've got pizza on it's way over." He looked over his shoulder at me, "You still like pepperoni, right?"
I giggled a bit as I followed him into the spare scantily clad room. The white walls were bare, not one poster or picture. The only thing that adorned the area was an air mattress and a cedar dresser that sat in front of a window. It was alright for me though. I was only staying a week, and I never believed myself to be a materialistic woman.
"You're alone here, Daddy?" I had asked. I remembered him talking to me a month ago about a woman he had met at a what he liked to call "adult bar" I wasn't stupid though, I found out later on that he was a swinger, this also explained why he never stuck to one woman at a time.
"Yeah, Vanessa didn't want to stay in Texas. Her home is in Connecticut and lord knows you won't catch me dead up there where it snows."
I laughed. Dad never enjoyed cold weather. I always thought of him as a bear, he was active every single season except winter. That's when he slept the most.
The rest of the night went smoothly. We had eaten pizza, updated one another on our lives, reminisced about the good times. This was probably the only time my father and I could have a one on one conversation without the fussing and arguing we use to have.
"Daddy? Why do you think we fought so much."
He sipped on his beer before sitting the half empty can down on the table, He didn't look at me as he spoke.
"Your mother and I were dealing with a lot of problems. Unfortunately, I think the only person I could vent to was you. It was my fault. You were just a child, I shouldn't have taken things out on you. You didn't understand any of it."
I chugged the rest of my beer down, grabbing another, cracking open the top and placing it next to my empty plate, slouching in the sofa as I looked to him. For the first time in years, I could tell my father was wanting to cry. I knew him as an emotional man, but I can't say I've ever seen him actually cry.
I leaned into him, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and laying my head on his shoulders, I closed my eyes as I spoke.
