Here's part one of what I think is a sweet, happy two part tale...part two will be along in a few days. I don't do many Daddy/Daughter tales, but I hope you enjoy this one. Please let me know what you think - be it negative or positive. Quality feedback is always helpful!
As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters within are only figments of my imagination! Enjoy!
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I'd been studying for the big Chemistry test for the better part of two hours. It was past midnight and I guess I had been dozing for a while when I was jerked awake from noise from my parents' bedroom which was across the hallway from mine. I could hear Mama's voice, shrill and angry as it always seemed to be lately, intermittingly -- "Keep...awake. Get up...walk it...so I can get some sleep."
I heard the old wood floor creaking and then my parents' bedroom door open and close and then the familiar footsteps of my father descending the stairs. I rubbed my eyes and sighed. Daddy was hurting again. My heart ached for him. The last several months had seen him inflicted with leg pains -- night cramps that kept him up and often walking the floor at all hours. Daddy was the floor supervisor at the local paper factory and he worked hard...always down on the lines with the men and not taking it easy behind a desk.
I pushed away from my desk and crept to my door and opened it slightly. In the quiet of the late night, I could hear Mama already snoring again and occasional grunts of pain from my father as he tried to walk off his misery. Mama wasn't too sympathetic, especially when the doctor had said it wasn't something too critical -- just night cramps common to men of Daddy's age. Mama tended to have a hard view on things, especially when they interfered with her sleep. It was becoming an old story that when Daddy got too restless in bed with his hurting legs, Mama would shoo him out of the room so she could sleep.
A louder groan came from downstairs and before I knew what I was doing, I was already hurrying down the stairs, my bare feet slapping along the smooth and worn wooden steps. I followed the groans through the narrow hallway of our old house and into the living room where Daddy was standing before the unlit fireplace, his head against the bricks as he flexed and worked his legs.
"Daddy? Are you okay?"
My father's head came up and he looked at me, the pain evident in his eyes. "Hey, Pooh," Daddy replied, using the nickname he'd been calling me for as long as I could remember. My real name was Lillian, named after my maternal grandmother by Mama. Most people called me Lilly, but I liked it when Daddy called me Pooh. "I'm alright...just hurting a bit. Sorry if I woke you up."
I shook my head and came over to stand beside him, resting my hand on his shoulder. "No, I was studying, Daddy. I heard Mama...well, I heard you come down stairs. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Daddy shook his head and said, "No, honey. I just got to walk it out...let the muscles loosen on their own." He said it with a casual tone as if it was nothing, but I knew better. The last few months had been wearing on Daddy. There were dark circles under his blue eyes which were clouded with weariness and pain. His tall, lean frame which had always seemed so strong and formidable to me had become a little stooped lately.
"Daddy, are the doctors sure there's nothing else wrong with you...I mean, nothing really bad?"
My father winced a little before chuckling, putting on what I now knew was just his tough guy act, "Nothing, Pooh...I'm just getting old. Doctor Manning says it's just night cramps brought on from being on my feet so much and maybe stress or tension." He shrugged and said, "What can you do...just tough it out."
I couldn't help myself -- I just wrapped my arms as far as they would go around my father's waist and hugged him. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'd give anything to make you feel better."
I felt Daddy's body tense up as I pressed myself against him, pretty much as he'd done since I'd hit puberty and went from being his rough and tumble tomboy to suddenly becoming a young woman with all the accompanying curves. I squeezed a little tighter and then let him go, Daddy's face a little redder than before -- an almost guilty look on his face. Then another spasm of pain crossed his face and he grunted as he reached down to rub the top of his thigh.
Daddy was wearing an Atlanta Braves T-shirt and an oversized pair of white boxer shorts that had little Braves tomahawks all over them. They were a Christmas gift from me from the previous year. Daddy hated regular pajamas, but he liked these for sleeping in. I could see the muscles in Daddy's thighs knotting as they cramped.
I reached out with one hand and placed it lightly on my father's chest and said, "Maybe if we massaged your legs, that would help. We do that sometimes on the track team...working Charlie-horses out."
Daddy laughed and said, "I don't know...it's late and you need to get to bed. Tomorrow's a school day."
He seemed to be embarrassed by my offer, but I decided to insist. I grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the big overstuffed chair he always sat in while watching television. It was a well worn leather chair that we'd had for as long as I could remember and it had always been Daddy's chair. "No...I'm good, Daddy and I'm pretty good at this. We won't know unless we try!"
Daddy grunted with amusement at that. 'You won't know unless you try,' was one of his favorite sayings whenever me or my big sister Amelia had balked at doing something because we thought it was too difficult. With a resigned sigh, Daddy eased himself into the chair, wincing as his legs continued to cramp. I settled onto my knees between his legs which he had stretched out till they were almost straight -- the muscles of his calves and thighs bulging with knots.
"Just try and relax, Daddy...take deep breaths...breathe!" I urged him as I began kneading his left calf, working my fingers hard against the tight, oxygen starved tissue.
