This is another short one-off story, intended to be a single chapter without a lot of build-up. Mostly I just wanted to write something simple and fun. Hope you enjoy.
*
"Uh-oh," Nicole's father said. "Nicki, you'd better close your eyes."
Nicole Pryce looked up from her phone. She was curled up at one end of the couch, not far from her dad, who sat in the easy chair to her right. On the flatscreen TV mounted to the far wall, the lead actor in whatever Eighties action movie her dad had put on was, as he would say, "giving it to" some big-haired actress.
She scoffed audibly. Her dad loved these old movies, and she had nothing against them. But the sex scenes were always so cheesy. Slow-motion, saxophone music, lighting so subdued you couldn't see anything, the woman always arching her back in ways that seemed deeply uncomfortable. It all seemed so phony to her.
"Wow, look at those two shadows dry-humping," she remarked. "So risque. My virgin eyes."
"I do so love your sarcasm, sweetheart," her dad replied.
She grinned, returning her attention to her phone. "They want to impress me, they should have full penetration. I want to see this guy hang dong."
"Nicole Meriwether PRYCE!" her mother's voice rang from the kitchen. How her mom managed to hear anything over the blaring saxophone, she'd never know.
"Sorry, Mom!" she called. No further rebuke was forthcoming, which made her hope that put an end to the matter.
"Trou-ble," her dad said softly with a grin and a wink. She grinned back at him.
"I'm sorry," he said after a long pause. "'Hang dong'? Where did you pick that up?"
"I'm eighteen, dad. I'm old enough to know about..."
She trailed off, not wanting to incriminate herself any further. She and her dad had a comfortable rapport, but Nicole knew better than to push it.
There was a long pause, and then her father whispered, just loud enough for her to hear: "Dongs?"
Nicole snickered laughter, hiding her grin behind one hand. Her mother, while no ogre, didn't share their love of juvenile humor, and tended to get exasperated when Nicole and her dad indulged themselves in what she called "smart remarks." Not wanting to give them away, she settled for a conspiratorial nod to her dad and went back to scrolling through her phone.
They were all making the best of an uncomfortable situation. Nicole had graduated high school that spring, only to find college financially out of her reach. Her diligent saving from various summer jobs wasn't anywhere near enough to cover tuition, she hadn't been a good enough student for scholarships, and she refused to saddle herself with crushing debt to get an education. Reluctantly, she'd decided to take a year to figure out her next move -- and that meant continuing to live at home.
To their credit, her mom and dad had been more than generous about it. Nicole worked hard, and had even offered to pay rent. But her dad had turned it down, advising her instead to focus and figure out what she really wanted to do.
Nicole's mother, on the other hand, low-key wanted her gone. She knew this in her heart even if Mom hadn't made it apparent. She hadn't been cruel or demanding about it... Nicole just knew her mother longed to transform her bedroom into a craft space and live without a teenager in the house. She considered Nicole's foregoing of college a "reckless decision," and took many opportunities to say so.
As far as Nicole was concerned, the feeling was mutual. Living at home as a functional adult wasn't her idea of heaven, either. Very soon, she hoped to be out on her own and have an apartment, if not a dorm room at college. But for now, it seemed they were stuck with each other, for at least another year.
Nicole was ready to be gone. But until then, she planned to make the most of her last summer at home.
* * *
As the credits rolled on the movie, Nicole rose from the couch and stretched. She wore comfortable shorts and an old tee shirt short enough that she showed quite a bit of belly when she stretched. As she brought her arms down, she thought she caught her father glancing at her from the corner of his eye. A twinge of curiosity took hold of her. Was he looking at her, like... really looking at her?
She thought of the movie's sex scene, and found herself wondering if he'd been aroused by it. She realized she was thinking of her father's sexual arousal, and let herself be amused by the thought without pushing it away.
"I'm going up to my room," she declared. "And then probably to bed."
"Hey," her dad said as she moved toward the staircase. "No kiss goodnight?"
Nicole rolled her eyes amiably and reversed course to return to where he lounged in his recliner. The summer had been stiflingly hot, and he, like everyone in the house, was dressed lightly: a tee shirt and dad shorts. The shirt was just snug enough to show off a little muscle definition at the chest and shoulders; the payoff from his diligent gym visits.
She leaned down over him, and he lifted his head to deliver the customary kiss to her forehead.
Later, she would tell herself she wasn't sure why she did it. It was just another reckless decision she hadn't thought through. At the last moment, as his lips were about to touch her forehead, she tilted her head up and let his mouth meet hers instead. Her father completed the kiss before he fully knew what was happening, and pulled back a little in surprise. Impetuously, she darted in for a second kiss, lingering just slightly longer than the first, then pulled away with a grin.
"G'night, Dad," she said softly.
They locked gazes for a moment, both of them seeming frozen, jittering in place and humming with latent energy, like her dad's old VHS movies when he paused them. Nicole couldn't fully read what she saw in her father's eyes. Surprise, certainly. But not displeasure, and not disapproval.
She also had to admit she wanted another kiss. But she didn't dare take it.
The pause finally broke, and he licked his lips and blinked, as if waking from a momentary dream.
"G'night, Nicki." He was the only person in the world who called her Nicki. She liked that.
