Thank you for reading my short story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England. All email comments good or critical welcomed. Please note that all email comments from an invalid email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read, so please enter your email carefully. Rude or abusive comments may result in blocking. Please note that I am a British female and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat and the ass is a bum or arse.
Gemma is my daughter, she left home, oh some months ago now, and lives in a small two bed terrace in an estate of new builds on the edge of town. She had a boyfriend, he helped when she first moved, but they split up a few weeks ago.
"He is impossible to live with Dad," she said when she told me over the phone. She said she was okay with it, she had no angst and harboured no ill feelings, they just split and as far as I know, remain on friendly terms. So now she was living alone and occasionally had to ask me or her Mum to pop round and help with things needing two people to move. Today was one of those days, it also helped that I had an estate car, and could we go to Ikea to pick things up.
"Yes, of course," I said knowing it would take me half an hour to empty all the stuff in the boot into the garage so that I could fold the back seat down and have a Gemma Carry service. "I'll be with you about ten," I said as I put down the phone and went out to empty the car.
"Do you want me to come with you," Alice my wife, Gemma's Mum asked.
"Yes, I would like that, but, with the back seat folded down for whatever she wants from Ikea, there won't be room in the car," was my response.
"True," Alice replied, "I'll carry on with the ironing then."
Not sure who was going to have the worst day. It did take me about half an hour to empty the boot and put all the bric-a-brac that I carried around into the garage, a kiss from Alice and I was off. It took about twenty minutes to get to Gemma and I pulled up on the drive and rang the door bell as I opened and walked in.
"Hi," I called, "only me."
"Oh, hi Dad, I'm through here,' her voice came from the kitchen at the back of the house. I slipped my shoes off and walked through the lounge into the kitchen. Gemma turned and hugged me and kissed my cheek.
"Hello baby, right, what do we need to do?" I asked as I stepped back. Gemma was wearing a crop top shirt and a flared skirt, a short flared skirt. Hardly wearing anything at all, my Dad brain then mentally asked 'is she going out like that?'
"We need to go Ikea near Leeds, to the collection point, and pick up some boxes, put them in the car, take them upstairs and assemble them. Easy."
"Right, and just what, mat I ask, are we actually going to pick up?"
"Just some flat pack wardrobes, I am lining my second room with wardrobes so I can keep everything tidy and out of the way."
This was a new side to Gemma, as I recalled when she lived at home, the last thing her bedroom could be described as was tidy.
"Okay. Right. And this will fit in my car will it?"
"Dunno, assume so, we'll find out when we get there. If not, you can hire a van, I don't think I can drive one on my licence."
"Oh, I can, can I, that's nice. Thanks."
"Oh Daddy," she said making big girl eyes at me.
"Shall we get off then?" She asked.
"Yes, I suppose.
The sat nav took me around Bradford and then through Tong towards Wakefield, and then we were there, the big blue and yellow building. I missed the turning for the collection point and had to go through the estate and turn around and go back. Anyway, we were there, found it and reversed into an empty collection point space.
Gemma went inside to make the arrangements and I followed a few minutes behind.
"We have to wait a few minutes whilst they collect it Dad," she said when I found her sat on a bench watching a large screen. "We need to wait for 121 to come up," she said pointing at the screen where it displayed what was ready to collect.
It was actually more like fifteen minutes rather than just a few, and then two trolleys appeared pushed by two youngsters.
"Crikey Gem, that's a lot to get in the car," I wasn't sure it would all fit, and some of the boxes looked rather long.
"Come on, let's give it a go, you grab one trolley and I will grab the other."
The trolley I grabbed was rather heavy and I had a few concerns about the weight limit of my car, the trolley Gemma was pushing looked just as heavy. I opened the boot and started loading. Laying the cartons flat was not really going to work, so we loaded them edgeways, and when we had filled the width, I used some ratchet straps to the boot loading hooks to stop them moving around. There were four extra long cartons, and we loaded those flat, but they reached over the front passenger seat. Finally everything was in and strapped down.
"Looks like you'll have to catch the bus back Gem," I said.
"Don't be silly, I can squeeze in there," she said pointing at the front footwell, "I am very flexible."
"Go on then, this I have to see."
Gemma did squeeze in and I saw a lot of her knickers as she was contorting herself to fit into the small gap, not really what her Dad needs to see, small white knickers with little red flowers on.
I checked the wheel clearance, there was a little play left in the suspension, I just needed to avoid potholes.
"Right then, let's go," I said, and we set off and then stopped. The passenger seat belt alarm was bonging.
