Melinda Briggs was always a little flustered around Christmas time, but this year was proving worse than normal. She was still single...by choice...and that made her lonely. She was still seeing Courtney and Erin...by choice...and that made her question her own sexuality.
The twenty five year old grade school librarian was proving to be a hit at school among the children and staff. Her ever-present smile and natural good looks resulted in anyone spending time with her leaving with a warm feeling.
Needless to say, she had been a popular guest at the Halloween party Courtney and Erin took her to. Most people would have been happy just to watch her walk around in her sexy schoolgirl costume. But when word got around the party that she was involved in light bondage having sex with the "lifeguard" every woman in the house wanted...well, it drew quite a crowd.
Luckily, Courtney and Erin were the only parents of kids at her school that Melinda had to worry about seeing after that episode. And see them she did! At least once a week, and usually more often than that, the women were together in bed. Sometimes only two of the three could show up—the "odd man out" usually being the married one, Erin—but oftentimes it was a threesome. They met during the day mostly, when Melinda could get away. Courtney, a 34 year old widow, was between jobs and Erin, 31, was married to a middle aged executive who considered her nothing more than a trophy.
A month ago Melinda never would have imagined herself living such a lifestyle. But the Halloween party changed everything. She was beginning to consider herself bisexual, and loving it.
But Christmas would continue to haunt her. And it was fast approaching.
It was two weeks before the big day and Melinda's condo was brightly decorated, just the way her mother used to decorate their house when Melinda was a child. Perhaps her mother wouldn't have dreamed of putting up a fake tree, but this was the twenty first century, Melinda reasoned. Up in fifteen minutes, down in ten. That's all she cared about.
She was on the couch watching TV an hour after dinner when the doorbell rang unexpectedly. Dressed in a long football jersey and panties, she hesitated at first. But at this time of evening the only visitors she ever had were Courtney or Erin. So, she walked to the window and inched the curtain open to peek out. It was a man, but his back was to her.
She cracked open the door, keeping the chain lock in place.
"Dad!" Her tone was half statement and half question.
"Hi, Melinda," Don Briggs said sheepishly.
The woman quickly undid the chain lock and swung open the door. She stepped back, allowing the man to enter.
"What are YOU doing here?" she asked.
"I'm sorry I didn't call," Don replied. "I didn't think I'd be here until tomorrow. I was able to get out of a meeting and get a flight. I hope it's not too inconvenient."
Melinda closed the door, still a little shaken. She stood next to her father, pulling down on her jersey self-consciously before taking his coat and hanging it in the closet.
"Sit down." She moved back to the couch and let him settle into the only large chair in the room. She hit the mute button on the TV remote and pulled her legs tightly underneath her, once again tugging on the jersey.
"So, how have you been?" her father asked.
"Fine." She wasn't sure how else to answer when you haven't seen your father in years and he shows up at your door.
"Michael told me you had a job," he said, referring to Melinda's brother. "A school librarian?"
"Yeah. I like my job. I've met a lot of nice people...made some friends." If he only knew, she thought.
"I knew you'd be alright. You were always very independent."
"Well, I guess I had to be, didn't I?" The implication was obvious. Don looked at her and didn't need to decipher the look on her face.
"Melinda, one of the reasons I wanted to see you was...to say I'm...I'm sorry. When your mother was sick..."
"She was dying," Melinda interrupted.
Her father continued as if he hadn't heard her. "When Beth was sick I needed to be around you more. I wasn't. I'm sorry. I was busy, and..."
Melinda chuckled. "You've always been busy. Too busy for me, apparently. My mother was dying before my eyes and you didn't care."
"That's not true," the man shot back. "The doctor didn't know how bad the cancer was and I couldn't quit work...no knowing anything."
"It was very obvious what was happening," Melinda said firmly. "You didn't want to listen to the doctor, even if you HAD talked to him. It would have taken you away from your precious job."
Neither of them spoke for a few agonizing seconds.
Melinda wanted to make her point, but for some reason she didn't want her father to leave. Despite the tension between them she felt a little relieved saying some of the things she'd felt for so long.
"I can't change what happened, Melinda. I can't bring back your mother. But I want you to know I care about you and Michael and I don't want us to hate each other."
She couldn't argue with that. Besides, she would never hate her father; simply blame him for everything concerning the agonizing death of her mom.
"Do you miss her AT ALL?" Melinda tilted her head to one side as she asked the question.
Her father looked incredulous. "Of course I do. I loved her. I've been lonely ever since we lost her."
Melinda stared across the dimly lit room as if she was hypnotized. He was lonely? She refused to let herself believe him. But for the remainder of the evening she remembered his words and repeated them back to herself, because it gave her hope that she wasn't alone.
They talked for two hours—no so much as father and daughter but rather as two acquaintances who weren't quite best friends. Melinda's father was forty five and she didn't view him now as an "old man." In fact, she had seen him so little in her adult life that he was practically a stranger.
He was tall and thin and just as good looking as she remembered him from her childhood. He had never mistreated her. All she'd ever wanted was for him to acknowledge her existence.
Don accepted his daughter's invitation to stay at her condo for the duration of his visit. When they were done chatting he brought in his bags from the rental car. She took him to the second bedroom just down the hall from her own and showed him where the bathroom was. They agreed on meeting in the morning for breakfast. There were no goodnight kisses. But at least they were together in the same house again...for a change.
Melinda retreated to her bedroom and closed the door. She flopped down on the bed and stared at the roof, rehashing many of the things that had been said during the evening. She truly did not hate the man, she kept saying to herself. Is that what he thinks? That she hates him after all these years? She closed her eyes.
