Truth or Dare: Hurricane Milton Edition
I lay in the hot, still, darkness wishing for sleep as outside one hundred mile per hour winds gust and howl and rain angrily pelts the windows from every conceivable angle. Hurricane Milton was bearing down on us, Tampa taking it's first direct hit in more than a century, and only weeks after Hurricane Helene glanced by us leaving substantial damage behind. The debris of which was mostly still sitting in people's yards awaiting disposal. What a mess. I was grateful that was the extent of my worry. I knew my house would withstand the storm itself, I had built it beyond spec, having seen enough storm damage growing up to prove an ounce of prevention was worth way more than a pound of cure. But there was always the possibility of a tornado or microburst subjecting us to even more intense winds, so I remain concerned and alert.
My anxiety was mostly from the knowledge of the discomfort the coming days would bring; I knew it would likely be days without power, at a minimum. I have a generator for the refrigerators and small appliances, it runs off natural gas, as does the water heater, so at least I won't have to run around hunting for gasoline. We have plenty of food. Plenty of bottled water. And it isn't August. It could always be worse I keep reminding myself.
My phone lights up, a text from my wife letting me know they had just lost power. She had gone to be with her eight months pregnant younger sister, about 90 minutes east, her husband was stuck out of town due to cancelled flights. I had hoped for my sister in law's sake that they wouldn't loose power; I couldn't imagine that level of discomfort. My wife said the storm was pretty mild so far where they were, so hopefully their power would be restored soon after the storm passed.
3:17 am I note, laying my phone down. It wasn't that hot, yet, but it was warm and still. Growing up in Florida, I have always had a ceiling fan and now always found it difficult to sleep in still air, regardless the temperature. The battery-powered fan on my nightstand wasn't much help, and the basketball shorts I was wearing, while minimal, were more than I was used to wearing to bed. I groan imagining the next several days.
A few minutes later the wobble of a flashlight beam on the hall floor approaches and I pull the sheet across my mid section out of habit. "You okay, Charlie Brown" I ask as the spectral shape of my 19-year-old daughter Charley appears in my doorway.
"Yeah, how much longer do you think it'll last?" she asks, hovering, her voice anxious. In complete darkness the small flashlight lights up the room enough I can see she is wearing grey Calvin Klein panties and matching bralette.
"Looks like the bad stuff should be over by 6 am," I tell her. "We're fine, nothing bad is going to happen. It's just going to suck until the power comes back on," I reassure her patting the bed. I can see her smile as she moves to crawl into my wife's vacant left side, plopping down on her stomach next to me. She turns the flashlight off, but not before I catch a good look at the thong disappearing between her plump cheeks.
"I know it's not that bad, but it's still kinda scary," Charley offers.
"I know, but you get used to it," I force a chuckle, attempting to be reassuring.
"So Charley was worse, right," my daughter asks about her namesake, Hurricane Charley.
In hindsight it's hard to be glum about the hardships caused by that first of three hurricanes that hit my home state in 2004, and I can't help grin at the memories. "Yeah, it was in most ways," I offer lamely.
"Tell me about it," Charley questions.
Chuckling, "Okay, well um, you know, growing up that far inland we'd never really had to worry about hurricanes, they usually died out quick once they hit land and by the time they got to us it was no bid deal. Charley kept getting bigger in the gulf but it was heading north. I remember being at work and it was just a regular day, no one was even really talking about it and then around lunch time the news said is was strengthening and speeding up and turning to come right over us, and we were like oh, shit. So all afternoon was chaos at work trying to prepare and I think I finally got home around seven and it hit us around eight. It was pretty intense, the roof started leaking almost right away, stuff was hitting the windows and they were flexing from the wind, so your mom and I went in this little half bath under the stairs and waited until it was over. Luckily it was moving really fast so it was only like a half hour of bad stuff. But yeah, I can't lie, it was scary, we'd never had one stay that strong like that," I explained.
My eyes re-adjusted to the darkness enough that I could see my daughter has her arms folded under her turned head watching me. Though only inches from mine, her big blue eyes are just black circles in white pools. I can taste her breath when she asks, "How long had you and Mom been dating?"
"Like a couple of months, she had just moved in with me, right after her..." I catch myself, not wanting to say it out loud.
Charley giggles, "Right after she turned 18?"
"Yeah," I admit.
Charley giggles again, "And she worked for you? Naughty. You'd get in trouble for that now Daddy."
"She didn't work
for
me, she worked in a different division," I offer defensively.
Still giggling, Charley adds, "Relax Daddy, I'm not judging you. I'm just saying people would freak out about it today is all. You know, a 30 year old boss dating a 18 year old employee... what did Mom do again?"
"Inside sales. And she worked for your grandfather, he was her actual boss, not me, I wasn't her supervisor," I inform her.
"Ahh, well, I guess that makes it okay then," my daughter laughs.
I know she's teasing me, but I also want to make sure she understands. "Look it just happened, she started working there when she graduated high school. I said hi one day and we started talking and we liked each other. I was in love with her the moment I laid eyes on her. She could have been 30 or 40 or 50, it wouldn't have mattered. She felt the same way. And it wasn't anybody's business. We dated and she moved in with me, it's what people do, or did. And your grandparents had no problem with it, by the way," I state proudly.
"That's because Grandma and Grandpa love you more than Mom or Aunt Jenny, you're their favorite," my daughter snorts.
"That's not true," I smile, knowing it is in fact the truth and can't help chuckle and Charley laughs with me. "Don't ever say that to your mother," I tell my daughter turning onto my side to face her.
"I won't," she smiles. Instinctively I put my hand on her bare back and she doesn't flinch, but I almost do, the feeling of her skin is electric. I know it's just my hand on her back, but there is no
reason
for me to be touching her and I try to remember the last time I touched her
j
ust to feel her, and sadly can't. My eyes wander over the rest of her body before catching Charley's glare, a big smirk on her face. "Tell me about that week," she grins.
"I mean it sucked, but it could have been worse. We didn't have power for six days and it was August so it was just brutally hot. But other than the roof there was no real damage to my condo. The roof leaks drained out through the A/C vents and we cleaned the water up quick, and no windows were broken or anything, so the inside was fine. We had water, thank god. I had a guy who worked for me who lived like a mile away and he lost his roof, his windows and had no power or water for more than a week, so it was really random. Work got power back after three or four days, so at least there was someplace to go and be in the A/C. And your grandparents had a pool," I ramble, but seeing I still have my daughter's attention I continue, "But it sucked, and this was before the iPhone, your phone was just a phone then," I shake my head, "I think I had a laptop, but they weren't like they are now, you didn't use them for entertainment then, and the batteries were crap and there was no internet with the power out anyway. Those first few days before we could go back to work, there was
nothing
to do."
"But you guys made me," Charley states brightly.
"Oh yeah, that's right," I tease, knowing my daughter has been well aware of how she came to be for many years now, "That's why you're named Charley. Guess you're lucky it's not Milton," I tease.
Charley giggles, then tentatively questions, "Sooo.... you guys just... fucked all week?"
My breath catches before I respond defensively, "I mean no, we did do other stuff, we read books and went for walks and played lots of games, like cards and stuff. We spent a lot of time at your grandparents, swimming and cooking out. But, yeah... there was a lot of... sex that week," I acknowledge with a shrug.
"So like, am I a bed baby, or a couch baby, or what," my daughter chuckles.
"Oh Jesus, I don't know," I snort, not expecting the question. "Can't say we were keeping track. You might be a shower baby. Or a kitchen floor baby, we would lay on the kitchen floor because the tile was cool," I confess with a grin.
My daughter smiles, "That's kind of hot. I mean thinking you guys couldn't keep your hands off each other. So... you'd be like reading or playing a game and be like, 'Hey, wanna fuck?"
"Jesus, sweetie," I react. My daughter has a habit of being brash on occasion, but in the dark I can't tell if this is for effect or not, but I can tell she's enjoying herself.
"Well?" she giggles.
"Sometimes... yeah," I chuckle and we laugh together as I roll onto my back, regretting the decision as soon as my fingers break contact. She feels so good.
You should touch her more
, I tell myself, my tired brain apparently unable to filter the impulse.
The wind howls viciously as I feel the bed shift and my daughter roll into me, she lifts up and pulls my arm under her so I can wrap it around her as she snuggles into my side, her head on my shoulder, the soft, pillowy contents of her bra pressed into my side. "What kind of games did you play," she asks.
"Oh, cards, lots of cards. Board games, when it was light out. Truth or dare when it got dark. I think we made a few up too," I tell her.
"Let's play truth or dare, Daddy, since it's dark. We kind of been doing it already anyway," she says, making too much sense I tell myself.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," I chuckle. "Besides, it's too hot for any dares."
