The clacking of keys helped me mentally drown out the outside noise of a Portland coffee shop where a man argued with the staff about his loitering, my six pm latte still half full no matter how many times I clumsily almost tipped it over. Getting out of the house for the day was a happily given gift to Tamara and Evan who would spend their time getting to know each other. I left one of my nice dresses in the closet along with some heels that would fit her if their date called for it. There was pleasure and comfort in knowing my Dad could go on a date with her and not a flicker of jealousy was felt between any of us.
Each time I had passed either of them in the morning, flirty kisses or grabs were exchanged with smiles contagiously spreading. I had a lust and desire for my father that spanned the last few months but Tamara seemed to be falling into my heart faster than I knew how to handle. When I paused to redraft my latest program that had eaten my time, I looked up date ideas for the new relationships.
Plenty of forums were lit up with helpful tips on how to make a poly family work without the common theme of couple activities. On my less publicly visible phone I poured through the hundreds of comments that filled our various profiles with a message tucked inside from a familiar name.
"Hey Gabby, glad to see you got together with your Dad. That blowjob video was so fucking hot. Listen I work with your Dad and if it's okay, I was wondering if I could steal some of your time? Lemme know beautiful. I'd love to worship you." The message wasn't uncommon but it made me take a tally of how many knew about what was now a big part of my life. So far, Tamara, my Dad, Me, the cop, and his coworker Jeff had all seen us together. For a moment the panic made me consider running home and asking if we could move states.
"I'd love to set up some time in the future but this spring break I'll be with my Dad and girlfriend. Please keep our secret okay? I'll see if Evan is okay with us meeting up and adding in an extra pair of hands."
I knew Tamara was also going through the strange and beautiful understanding that she was bisexual, her eyes still burned in my mind from when she woke me after my nap. All I could hope for was that my father and I would be able to provide her with a safe relationship to explore herself in. I tried to imagine where they would be, her hands tucked down at her sides when she got nervous or my Dad brazenly kissed her in front of a crowd.
I made sure to linger at the coffee shop until at least one in the morning before driving back to the house where the lights had been turned off with Evan and Tamara tucked into bed. Slipping off my clothes and settling into my old bed, I let the thoughts of what to do next to help both of them saturate my head until I was too tired to think and rolled over with a final sigh before drifting off.
My muscles nearly threw me from my old bed as a sobbing beg for mercy was mixed into the screams of terror. I fumbled with the doorknob while the sounds of Tamara's pleading with the source of her torture. Throwing open the door to my fathers room I saw the bedside light on and his arms wrapped around her, trying desperately to wake her with little shakes. Sitting next to them I cradled her close, bargaining with her pain that it might pass quicker if I whispered just the right comfort.
She cried out for another minute or so before her eyes that were wide open in shock finally relaxed. We tried to set her on her side, Evan stroking her hair with sorrow and adrenaline covering his face. Something on her stomach caught my eye that made me pull back the covers and look despite the fear of waking her again. In the shape of a triangle, three old circular scars rested on the left side of her belly. "What the hell are those?" I whispered to my Dad whose eyes were weary from what he had found.
Pointing me to adjust my view, a similar but more spaced out was a second triangular pattern. "Cigarette burns." He whispered. There was another set on her right shoulder blade towards the center of her back that looked like it was older than the the ones on her stomach, her scars stretching and fading with time and age while her stomach was similar to a fresh tattoo, healed but still with tissue having only formed over the last year at least.
"Did she say anything during your date?" He thought for a minute but shook his head.
"Nothing about that. No, we both had a really good time and she seemed comfortable when we made love. I saw them but I didn't know what to think. We can talk about it tomorrow. For now, let's just let her tell us when she's ready and keep an eye out for anything that freaks her out okay? Poor girl must have been through hell."
Tamara had worn long sleeve shirts every time I was around, and never changed in front of me. When we had sex earlier she never took her shirt off either. Neither of us knew what to say. We looked from each other and back to her gently twitching in her sleep, the both of us holding her close and stroking her hair. I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead trying to predict where they came from. Evan and I held hands over her, tucking in so she was safe and sound between us.
For the next forty five minutes though I wondered what to do or say next. Watching her rest helped ease my mind but the thought that every time she went and visited her family was a hell for her, and that she almost did before stopping here; it froze me to a point where I couldn't think right. The scars were older and clearly had been done multiple times to each section. Each time I felt the tears start to fill up I would kiss her gently again until I could get back to sleep.
"Hey. Gabby you gotta get up. Somethings going on." I lurched forward with blood shot eyes.
"What's up?" My hands shook and my ears were pounding with blood. Everything was far away except the sharp image of Tamara's face close to mine.
"What do you like on your pancakes?" I couldn't process what she was saying.
"My...my what?" Her mouth stretched out into a beautiful smile as she pulled me close for a kiss. Nothing in her eyes reflected the sheer horror that burned out of her from the previous night.
"Pancakes. Gabby, are you okay?" She kissed me again and pressed her forehead to mine gently. "I wanted to make the two of you breakfast."
"I uh. I like my pancakes just with syrup and butter?" Wiping the drool from my cheek she laughed and bounced out the room with little skips in her step.
Sitting on the edge of the bed I took deep breaths, then stumbled to the bathroom to splash water on my face. In my panties and a baggy shirt I stumbled out of my Dads room to find Tamara rearranging the kitchen so she could set to work on breakfast. Evan sat sipping his morning coffee and a grin grew at my tangled mess of hair that shielded my features.
