My Stray Daughter

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It was one of those hot, rainy days. I'd been working out in the sun through most of it. My little apartment would be a furnace by the time I got home. A cold beer would fix that. The bus was dry at least.

I felt something vibrate in my lunch box. My phone reported I had three messages. Three? I hadn't remembered getting the first, but then I never looked at the thing while I was working. The first had been at 12:00 pm, the second at 1:00 pm, and the third at 6:30 pm. I put it to my ear and listened to the voicemail.

"Hello?" said the timid voice of a young girl. "Um..." The message ended.

Who the hell was that? She sounded cute though. The next message played.

"Hi again. My name is Allie Cattrall. I'm trying to reach David Daugson."

I squinted. Cattrall, Cattrall. Where did I know that name?

"I know this will probably seem a little weird, me calling like this, but you knew my mom, Rebecca Cattrall."

My eyes spread open. Now I remembered.

"I don't know if you remember her, but you two used to date in high school. I guess my mom lost touch after you joined the army or something."

Where was this going? My heart gave a thump.

"Anyway, I don't know how to say this, but, um, I'm your daughter."

Oh, shit.

"I know that sounds totally crazy. We live in the same city but we've never even met. Small world, right? I mean, big world. Whatever. Anyway, you probably don't believe me. You probably just deleted this message. I know you don't know me or anything, but I'm kind of going through a rough patch right now. I thought maybe, maybe you'd like to meet me."

I felt sick, or lightheaded, or drunk, or something that was affecting my mental state. Maybe I was going into shock. That was possible, right?

"You don't have to if you don't want to though. I mean, I want you to, but if you don't want to, I get it. Anyway, if you want to meet me, I'll be at Sam's Diner on the corner of Park and Main at 6:00 pm. Um, bye."

I yanked the phone away from my ear to look at the time: 6:35! Wait there was another message.

"Hello again. It's Allie. Your daughter. It's 6:30. I guess you couldn't make it. I don't know if you even listened to your messages. I'm going to stay here until 7:00, and then I guess I'm going to go. Please, I'm really hoping you'll come. I really need your help... Daddy."

I jumped out of my seat and ran to the front of the bus. "Stop the bus! I got to get off!"

The driver stopped and I ran out into the rain. I spun around to get my bearings. I was on Main, but Park was back the way I came. I had passed her and not even realized it. I started running.

I don't know what possessed me, running through the rain like this, crossing busy streets and brushing past people with umbrellas. I think I knocked over an old woman at one point, but I didn't even look back. It was as if some kind of parental instinct had taken hold of me.

She wasn't even my daughter, not really. I hadn't raised her. Maybe we shared some DNA, according to her. Did that make her my responsibility? My mind answered no, but my legs ran all the same.

It took me 15 minutes to get there. I was out of breath and my legs were burning. I was actually happy to see that crappy diner, terrible food at high prices. I yanked the door open like the streets were on fire.

There weren't many customers, but it wasn't hard to find her. She was sitting at the booth right next to the door, watching, waiting... for me. She had her mother's black hair and those black eyebrows that contrasted against her pale skin. She looked up from her coffee cup to see me. She had the same hazel eyes that I was so familiar with, my eyes.

Ah, fuck. I considered turning around and leaving right then. What the hell was I thinking? But then she smiled at me. I finally got it, all the jokes my friends made about their daughters wrapping them around their little fingers. Hell, I had run five blocks just to lay eyes on her.

She stood up and gave me a big smile. "David?"

"Allie?"

I didn't think her smile could get bigger, but it did. "Hi."

That voice! She was a siren, luring me over. I'd never felt so powerless before. I stepped toward her and held out my hand to shake hers. She seemed to give me a confused look, and then stepped right into me and threw her arms around my neck. My legs that were burning from the run turned to gelatin in her embrace. If she had held me any longer, I might have collapsed, but she let go.

"Thanks for coming."

"Of course," I said, falling into the booth. I really was feeling weak.

"I didn't know if you got my messages," she said, sitting down across from me.

"I did," I said. "About 15 minutes ago, after work."

"And you rushed right over?" she said. It wasn't just the smile that was big. It was her lips. They were so full. So... kissable. Wait, not kissable. This was my daughter. She was gorgeous though, and her full lips may have been her best trait.

"Yeah," was all I could manage.

"That's sweet," she said, tilting her head, her long black hair fanning around her narrow shoulders and colliding with the swell of her breasts. She was wearing a white "Lincoln High School" t-shirt that was too small for her. "You know, you look just like your yearbook picture, except a little older."

"Yearbook?" I said.

"Yeah, it was the only picture my mom had of you. Same short black hair, same hazel eyes, little more muscular now though."

"Uh, I, I don't really know what to say. I had no idea I had you."

She giggled and brushed her hair behind her ear so it was out of her face. "I didn't know either until a few months ago. My mom told me."

"And she's sure it's, I mean, you, that you're... mine?"

"That's what she told me. She wouldn't lie about it."

"You look like her, and maybe a little like me."

She smiled. "Yeah. It's the nose."

The waitress stopped by our table, a world-weary woman with no time to spare. "You want something, hun?"

"Oh, sure," I said, realizing how hungry I was. "A burger and fries, and a coffee."

She wrote it down and looked at my daughter. My daughter? I was not going to get used to that.

"You want another refill on that coffee?"

"Yes, I guess, thanks."

"Have you eaten?" I asked Allie.

"Oh, no, not really. I'm okay."

"You should order something," I told her. Wait, what was this feeling now, another parental urge to make sure my daughter was properly fed? Was there no learning curve to this parent thing?

"That's okay. I don't have any money," Allie said sheepishly.

"You're going to pay for that coffee, right?" the waitress put in.

"I thought the refills were free," Allie said.

"Just the first one."

"I'll pay for it," I interrupted. "Allie, get something to eat. I owe a lot of back child support."

She rewarded me with another smile. "Okay. I'll take a burger and fries too."

The waitress grunted and moved off.

"So," I said, playing with the napkin-wrapped silverware. Damn, I was nervous. "Tell me about yourself. When's your birthday? How old are you? Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Oh, no, no boyfriend. I just turned 18 on July 4th. Fireworks for my birthday every year. Yay."

"That's great. I'm sorry I've missed all 18 of them."

"Me too," she said softly.

I nodded. "And how's your mother doing?"

Allie looked solemn. "Mom died three months ago. Cancer."

"Oh, my god. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. She's in a better place now."

"Wow. I remember Rebecca's father died when she was young too, and her mother was always ill."

"Yeah, grandma's gone too," Allie said, looking down.

"Oh. I'm really sorry."

"It's been rough for me," she said, turning her cup.

"I see," I said. "Wait a moment; do you have any other family? Who are you living with?"

She swallowed hard. "Friends mostly, here and there."

I stared at her for a moment. My newfound parental instincts were kicking into overdrive. "Allie, are you homeless?"

She took a deep breath. "When mom got sick, I dropped out of high school to take care of her, but she just got worse and worse. I tried to find a job, but wouldn't you know it? No one wants to hire a high school dropout. I tried to pay the rent by selling our stuff, the car, jewelry, furniture. Eventually, I told the landlord if he gave me one more month, I'd let him keep everything in the apartment. Mom died a few days later, but she told me about you. I always thought you died in the army." She stared at me. "That's what mom said, until she admitted, surprise, you live here, that you didn't die. I would have been angry with her if she wasn't, you know, dying. I moved in with a friend of mine, but her parents really didn't like me. So, yes, as of this morning, I'm homeless."

The waitress came back. "Two burgers and fries, and a coffee."

I stared down at my burger. I had lost my appetite. Allie, however, seemed ravenous. She took a big bite and seemed to sigh. She swallowed and looked at me again with those familiar eyes.

"Sorry, I'm kind of hungry," she said, wiping her mouth. "I don't mean to be a pig."

"It's okay," I said, taking a fry. "Eat up."

She nodded and took another bite. "Thank you."

"Allie, do you know why your mother never contacted me?"

She shook her head as she chewed. "There wasn't a lot of time to ask questions. She said you broke up with her. She said something about how she thought you'd reject her, that you were really into the army or something. "

I rolled my eyes. "I was 18. People change. I always regretted the way I ended things with her. Once I was out of the service, I never wanted to go back. I can't tell you how many times I thought about looking her up. I wish she had told me about you."

Allie swallowed another mouthful. "Me too."

"I'm sorry," I said. It felt like a worthless apology. I had done wrong by Rebecca, and now she was gone. I'd left her with a child, my child, and I hadn't been there. "I wish I could have been in your life."

She put down her burger and looked me in the eye. "Maybe you still can be."

I knew where this was going. I had figured it out five minutes ago. "Allie..."

"I need a place to stay," she said. "I have no where else to go. You're my last chance. I don't have any other friends or family I can ask. I won't stay long. Just long enough to get on my feet, a job, save up enough to get a place somewhere. Maybe a couple months. I don't know. I haven't figured it out, but---"

"Allie," I interrupted, "I told you, I owe you back child support. You can stay with me as long as you'd like."

"Really?" I didn't think her grin could get any bigger, but she proved me wrong. She jumped out of her seat and came around to my side of the booth, grabbing me from the side and hugging me tight. "Thank you! Thank you so much, Daddy!" She let me go. "I-I mean David."

I chuckled. "It's okay. I like 'Daddy' just fine." I reached across the table and pulled her plate over. "Eat up."

"Got to clean my plate?" she said, taking a fry.

"House rules," I said. "But I have to warn you, I'm not a rich man, Allie. This greasy burger in this terrible diner is a feast."

"Oh. Then I'll definitely clean my plate... Daddy."

After we finished our meal, Allie and I talked for a couple hours. She told me a little more about herself, her time at school, her friends, her mother, and I told her a little about my construction job.

When the waitress gave us glares, we knew it was time to go. We ran through the rain to catch a bus across town. Allie seemed happy and cheerful to be with me. She looked at me funny, like she was in awe or something. I didn't think I had done anything too tremendous to deserve such a look. Any father would've taken in their daughter, wouldn't they?

"Now, don't get too excited," I said as we reached the door on the top floor of my apartment building. I slid my key into the lock. "It's a small place."

"It's okay. My plan B was the alley behind the diner, so I'm sure this is a palace."

I led her inside. I'd been right; it was warm in here, though the rain had cooled it off a little. Still, I opened the windows as Allie looked over the room, which consisted of a kitchen and a living room, divided by a breakfast bar, and a small table with two chairs. The living room had one sofa in it and a TV against the wall. There were no bedrooms.

"There's no bedrooms," Allie pointed out.

"Yeah, no," I said as I put the box fan in the window. "The sofa pulls out into a bed though."

"Oh."

"You can have that," I added. "I'll sleep on the floor."

"Oh, no," she said quickly. "It's fine. I can sleep on the floor. I'm used to it anyway. I slept on the floor at my friend's house."

"No, I want you to be comfortable," I said.

"Is this the bathroom?" she asked, pointing at the doorframe off to the right. There was no door.

"Ah, I forgot. Yeah, the, uh, the door is missing on the bathroom. Long story short, the landlord needed a door and I offered mine. He knocked 50 bucks off the rent. I'll get a new door."

She looked more nervous than ever as she walked through my tiny apartment.

"Sorry," I volunteered. "I know it's probably not what you expected."

"No, no, it's fine," she said, tuning back to me. "Really, it's great. Like I said, it's better than the alley. And honestly, it's not too much smaller than the apartment I had with my mom, except that one had bedrooms... and doors."

"I'll get a new door as soon as I can," I said.

She was playing with her fingers awkwardly. "Well, would it be okay if I took a shower? I'm soaked from all the rain and I had such a long day."

I glanced at her wet t-shirt. I could see the outline of a white bra underneath. "Yeah, of course. Go ahead."

"I, um, I have to pee too."

"Okay. Yeah, go. I'm not going to look. Just do what you need to do. I need to change anyway, over here, I mean."

"Okay," she said. "Sorry. It's all just, I don't know."

She awkwardly turned away and headed through the bathroom doorframe. I moved past the sofa so I couldn't see anything. I really needed a new door. How embarrassing. She probably hoped she'd have some rich father to take care of her, not a guy like me. Fuck, it made me contemplate my life, wishing I had applied myself more or something. I'd never made apologies for my lifestyle before. How did this girl get into my head in the course of a few hours?

I opened up the dresser drawer that my TV stood atop, taking out a change of clothes. I was soaked too. When I heard the shower turn on, I figured it was safe to undress. I peeled my wet shirt off over my head. My chest was still damp, but there were no towels nearby, and I didn't want to risk running to the kitchen. Instead, I ran my shirt over my muscular chest to soak up the rest of the water. I unbuckled my pants next, sliding them down. They stuck to my thighs, folding inside out. I took one more glance at the bathroom. I could hear the shower. I pushed my boxers down. My long cock hung heavily between my legs. I gave it a squeeze with my wet t-shirt. It didn't seem to help dry it, but it did feel nice. I probably shouldn't have done that with my daughter in the next room.

I tossed the pile of wet clothes in the corner and stepped into a dry pair of boxers, sweatpants, and a white t-shirt. Hm. Was this okay? What does one wear around their teenage daughter? I was already confused.

I turned around and sat on the dresser, which gave me no possible angle to see into the bathroom. I soon heard the shower turn off and I waited. It didn't really occur to me until just now that she didn't have a suitcase, or any clothes, or anything really. She managed to find my towel though. She stepped out of the bathroom with it wrapped around her chest, the swell of her breasts threatening to break it open as she clasped it together under her armpit. It parted down her side at her hip; a flash of flesh drew my eyes like flies to honey.

"Daddy, this is kind of awkward, but I don't have any other clothes and my old ones are soaked." Her wet black hair was all down her face, looking like black eyeliner that was running away from crying eyes.

"Uh," I said, averting my gaze. "I don't have clothes. I mean, girl clothes. I mean, where are your clothes?"

"They're wet, except my panties."

"Your panties aren't wet?"

"Um, no. They're not wet."

"Oh," I said, looking at the floor. The siren's voice tempted me to look up at her lithe body wrapped in a white towel with wet black hair cascading down her shoulders. "Don't you have a suitcase or something?"

"No," she said. "I lost everything when I moved out. The landlord was a jerk and changed the locks. I've been wearing my friend's clothes."

"Okay, I have..." I turned around and busied myself looking through my drawers. I pulled out a white t-shirt. "T-shirt!" I said triumphantly, turning around and holding it up. "Is this all right?"

"Okay."

I tossed it to her. She had to grab it out of the air. The sudden movement made the towel flap open for the briefest of moments, but I had seen more than I ought to, a flash of black hair where a father should never look.

"I-I'll be right back," she said, rushing into the bathroom.

I rubbed my face. I was really fucking up this father thing. I wasn't sure how to do it, but I was pretty sure I was not supposed to be eyeing my teenage daughter like that. Had I really just seen her pubic hair? Maybe I was confused. Probably confused. It was a shadow. After all, I'd never intentionally look at her... right?

I waited a few minutes and she soon came back wearing my white t-shirt, no pants. I assumed she was wearing her panties underneath, but I had no way of knowing. Her long bare legs and bare feet invited my imagination to do with her as I would. My eyes found their way to her chest, the swell of her breasts, and the bumps of her nipples. I could see the dark color of her areolas contrasted against the white. She was definitely not wearing a bra. I wasn't sure if this was a moment when a father was supposed to turn away or not.

"Okay?" I said.

"Yeah, thanks. I don't have pants. I hope that's okay. I know it must be weird having your daughter run around in a t-shirt and panties."

Panties confirmed! "It's fine. I'll leave you some money tomorrow so you can buy a few things while I'm at work."

She smiled big. "You're encouraging me to shop already? Best Daddy ever."

I chuckled. "How about we turn in for the night? I've got to get up pretty early."

She looked at the clock. "It's only 10:30 pm."

"I'm up at 6:00 to make it to the site at 7:00."

"Oh, okay. I don't want to keep you up then. How does this bed thing come out of the sofa?"

I took the cushions off the sofa and drew out the foldout bed. It wasn't very large, a double. Probably wouldn't comfortably fit two people anyway.

"So this is it," I said. "You'll be comfortable enough. It's softer than it looks. I'll sleep over there on the floor---"

"No, you won't, Daddy," she said. "I told you, you're not sleeping on the floor."

"Well, I'm not letting my daughter sleep on the floor," I said. "One of us gets the bed, and you're the guest."

"I'm not putting you out of your bed," she said. "We can share."

"Share?"

"Yeah," she said. "It's big enough for both of us."

"Wouldn't that make you uncomfortable?"

"Not more uncomfortable than sleeping on the floor, or in an alley. Really, I don't mind. I'd rather share it with you than make you sleep on the floor. Please?"

Please. It was the word a daughter could use to remove the word "no" from a father's vocabulary. I'd only been a father for a few hours, and already I knew I'd kill to protect this girl, my little girl.

"As long as you're okay with it."

She gave me another one of her smiles. Did she know how much power her smile held over me? "Of course I'm okay with it. It's your house."