The end of Zoe's relationship with her third husband in ten years came suddenly. "Fuck you!" were her last words as she slammed the door with only a suitcase and her purse in her hands. She had learned to keep a hundred hidden in her wallet for such emergencies.
The old pickup truck roared backwards down the short driveway then the tires squealed as she raced towards Highway 12 south. She banged her hand on the steering wheel as she replayed the image of him with his head between the neighbor woman's thighs and how he hated to do that to her - so he would say. The warm late afternoon air rushed though the window and blew her long brown hair about her head. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as she unbuttoned another button of her blouse. A nipple welcomed her fingertip.
Zack was in his early twenties when Zoe was conceived quite by accident. He didn't stay with her mother very long - wanderlust he would tell himself to try to soothe the guilt. A shot of whiskey would help more; sometimes a warm woman wrapped around him would ease the night. He always sent Zoe cards and letters.
Now he sat by the pool behind his cabin and looked at the thick pine forest that extended for half a mile in every direction. Seclusion to hide him from the world did wonders for his troubles. The large white clouds drifted overhead. Zack was at peace.
"Hey Dad," the happy voice said as he held the black cell phone to his ear. "Hope you want some company tomorrow, maybe for a while? Lost another guy it seems."
He smiled at the sound of Zoe's voice. Since her graduation from the university, she had become a friend, one of his only friends. There was always some boyfriend or husband in the way of her infrequent visits. "Sure," he assured her. After a few more quick words, he hung up and returned his attention to the book in his lap.
Highway 12 was long and straight for the past twenty miles. Traffic was light. Now as she headed into the low hills the turns became more frequent. She closed her cell phone and dropped it on top of her purse. The breeze whipped the open blouse apart leaving one breast free for the touching. Her hand against the soft mound helped remove the tension. "Dad," she whispered aloud as her hand cupped and jiggled the breast. It wasn't as if she had not thought of her father in inappropriate ways during the past few years. "Dad," she said to herself and let the left leg move to the side letting air flow under her dress.
--
Sleep did not come easily for Zoe. The motel mattress was hard and thoughts of Zack filled her mind - thoughts she should not be having. He was her father. Her fingers filled her pussy, rammed in and out, all vague efforts to banish the thoughts, all without success. The Big Ben alarm clock by the bed ticked loudly and each time she looked it had only advanced a few minutes. The first sign of sleep came at eleven after two hours of effort. Twelve thirty, the loud airbrake exhaust of a truck awoke her. Even her orgasms were difficult to come by. Sleep would not come again until five fifteen, and then not for long.
Zack paced the small bedroom. No movies on the satellite service, no pornography he had not committed to the back of his eyelids. Visions of Zoe raced through his head. "No Goddamn ... my daughter. Nah. I never lived with her mother and her, never helped raise her. Nah." He banged his head against the wall and stormed into the kitchen, poured himself a whiskey, then splashed it into the sink. "It's okay. She won't...."
--
The knotty pine walls of the cheap motel, the small metal shower, and the well-worn bedspread, all were things she would not miss as she closed the room door. The engine sputtered and roared to life as the fog-covered morning hid the sun.
A mile down the frontage road was a Waffle House just like all the others. She sat at the counter, sucked on her black coffee and read the USA Today trying to ignore the bib-overall covered chain smokers on either side both wearing baseball caps with some farm implement logo smeared with black grease. She pushed the empty plate away. The runny fried eggs and sausage patties filled the empty spot in her gut. She finished the last of the newspaper article and the last of the coffee in her cup. She paid and walked out the door. She belched twice as the pickup truck began to roll under its own power.
Zack dried himself then ran the brush through his thinning hair as he observed his still trim body in the long bathroom mirror. With just a black tee shirt on, he plodded to the kitchen and poured coffee into his mug. "Wonder when Zoe will get here?" he mussed aloud. He caught himself thinking about how nice she had looked last year when she visited. His morning erection returned and bumped into the cupboard door. "Dirty old man," he roared with laughter. He walked to the deck with the cup in one hand and a worn old Playboy in the other.
Zoe passed an unsavory hitchhiker just before the frontage road merged back with Highway 12. She did not slow down as he waved. She did smile. An 18-wheeler blew his horn for several seconds as she slowed before pulling into the morning traffic of whatever small town she had spent the night. Today her blouse was completely unfastened and her panties still in her suitcase. A finger played with her clit out of boredom. A man in a tall SUV blew his horn and leered as he saw the flash of a bare breast. She stuck her tongue out and frowned.
It was eleven-oh-eight and 87 degrees according to the woman on the radio reading the farm report. She found her first road sign for Walton, the widening in the road where Zack lived. "Three miles and then right," she reminded herself aloud as she glanced at the odometer.
The twin pickup to hers sat in the gravel parking area in front of the cabin under the only piece of shade. He had given her the one she drove the second time she visited. She left her belongings on the seat and slammed the door closed. "Zack!" She did not expect him to come running out, but she had fantasized of them running towards each other with arms held wide waiting for the impending embrace. "Probably out back," she whispered aloud and walked along the narrow dirt path though the tall grass that led to the back of the house.
Barefoot but dressed, he walked towards her. "Wow!"
"Nice to see you too," she giggled as she pulled him close enough to kiss. She realized her blouse was still unbuttoned as his shirt button grazed a nipple. "Sorry," she said as she pulled the fabric over the breast.
"Sorry about asshole, but I'm glad it gave you a reason to visit. I was starting to miss you."
Her hand took his and in the process, the blouse fell open again. She shrugged her shoulders at the futility of hiding what already was seen. "Yeah-h. He was in bed with a neighbor woman half my age doing things he wouldn't do to me. I was pissed."
"I like to do 'things'." His words were quiet, meant only for him.
