It had been eight years since we last saw our father. Our mother and him went through a nasty divorce on account of his cheating. At least that's what she told us, we never put much faith in her. A fancy and expensive lawyer made sure he wouldn't get to see any of us anymore. My two little sisters and I were heartbroken, of course. So there was some anxiety as I drove my sisters and myself down to the place where he said he now lived. Out of the blue, I got a call saying he was finally back on his feet and he'd love to see us sometime. Mom wouldn't have it, but what could she do now that we were adults? My sisters agreed to meet him, though with some trepidation.
As we entered the suburbs where dad supposedly lived now, we noted the quality of the houses. Modern, expensive bungalow type houses. The kind you'd imagine a bigwig accountant or something to own as a vacation home, a retreat from his luxurious downtown apartment. When we found the address, I parked in the oversized driveway. As we stepped out of the car and noted the hot summertime weather here, the front door opened, and there stood our father. Instead of the sad human being our mother led us to expect, he looked as handsome as he did all those years ago. A bit of gray in his hair, but still. Tall, dark and handsome would probably be the phrase the ladies would use. He beamed at us as we walked up to greet him, and, at a loss for words, hugged every one of us. Somewhat awkwardly we hugged back and I decided to be brave.
"Hey, dad. Wow, feels weird saying that..."
"No kidding, son-uh...Jimmy...well, Jim now, I suppose...and Lizzie and Maria. My, you three grew up nicely!"
He looked each of us up and down. Lizzie, the youngest, short and thin. Petite might be a more flattering word. Reddish-blond hair cut short, a small face with the brightest eyes and smile you ever saw. Toned body, she keeps in shape. Not too big in the chest area, probably B-cups, maybe large A's, I don't know.
Maria, the middle one. A bit taller, little more plump. Curvy in all the right places without being fat. Guessing she took after mom with that. Same reddish-blond hair, down to her shoulders. Same bright eyes, not the same smile. More like the scowling-type. Bigger chest, probably C-cups. Nice handfuls, I'd imagine.
And then there's me, the oldest. About as tall as Maria, on the thin side. Black hair, taking after my dad on that one. And, from what I'm told, the same bright eyes. Guess it runs in the family.
"Wow, eight years sure do a lot, don't they..."
"Well, Lizzie here was only 12 when you and mom divorced, so she was bound to look a bit different.", I said. Maria piped, trying to lighten the mood.
"I don't know, still looks like a stick to me!"
Dad and me chuckled as Lizzie punched Maria in the arm.
"Guess some things don't ever change, huh kids? Come on, let's go inside."
We entered the vast open space. Living room, kitchen off to the side, almost everything in one large room, at the other end a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looking over the backyard. All the furniture top-of-the-line, expensive stuff. As he sat us down on the couches in the middle of the room, we couldn't help but notice the large pool in the backyard. How the hell did he do this? My sisters were also curious, I could tell. When he poured each of us a drink and sat down with us, Maria spoke up.
"Dad...how? All this, I mean...what happened?"
"Well, hon-...I mean, Maria...quite frankly, I worked my ass off. When your mother and I separated, well, that didn't leave me in a very good state. But some friends of mine pulled me through, I helped them with some numbers in return, and they found me a job as an accountant. Short version of the story, I worked my way up, and here I am. I suppose I should've called sooner...but I wasn't ready, I think...and your mom, well...you know she wouldn't agree. So I asked some friends to get one your numbers, but even then...well it was scary. Took me a year to finally work up the courage to call you. I'm sorry...I understand if you're angry, I do...I just..."
Lizzie put his hand in hers and smiled at him. Even Maria turned her frown upside down for once.
"It's okay, dad. I think we're all just happy to see you're doing well again.", Lizzie said.
We all agreed. I couldn't help but laugh a little.
"Seems like there should be more drama here...you know, reality tv screaming matches and such."
They thankfully laughed at my stupid comment. For the next few hours we caught up, and he explained at length what had happened in those eight years. None of us asked exactly what happened between mom and dad, maybe out of fear of depressing him, maybe because we didn't really care. We had our father again, that was all that mattered.
When there was finally a silence in our conversation, Lizzie stood up and walked over to windows looking over the backyard and the pool.
"Dad, could we go in the pool? I mean, I'd like a refreshing dip about now. This heat is killing me."
I noticed our dad got a little embarrassed.
"Uh, yeah, honey, I guess you could...I mean, it's all yours..."
I spoke up.
"What's wrong, dad? You seem a little touchy."
"Well, it's just that...I don't actually own any swimwear. I like to relax there, myself, plus I live here on my own. So I don't think I can join you."
We three looked at each other and shrugged.
"Well, it's not like we thought to bring swimwear...what did you wanna do, Lizzie? Guess we could go into town and get some..."
She pouted a bit.
