Chapter 11
Since nothing had happened between us on Tuesday except for a lot of talking and TV watching, I invited Hunter back over on Wednesday to make up for it.
“And I really feel as though I owe you something special,” I said. “Believe me, unless you’ve suffered through migraines, you don’t know what a relief it is when one has gone away. How about I make you a nice dinner tomorrow night?”
He had smiled and accepted my offer and promised to come back the next evening. I realized about halfway through the workday that I was even more excited than usual to see him.
This was strange, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Again, I reminded myself not to hope for too much; even in terms of a “normal” relationship (which was becoming a more muddied concept the more I thought about it), it was way too soon to start getting all wrapped up. I had to be careful. I couldn’t keep making the same mistakes, time and again.
I tried to keep this in mind then, and told myself that the night was just like any other night. We were going to play for a while, just as we had been. Then we might have dinner and stay in our roles, or break away from that and talk as Hunter and Hayley. Whatever. No big deal.
So why couldn’t I stop my heart from pounding as I waited for him to walk through the door?
I had dinner started by the time he walked into the kitchen. “Something smells good in here,” he commented with a smile. He walked over to the stove, where I had chicken cutlets simmering in a lemon sauce. There was pasta boiling on another burner, and garlic bread heating up in the oven.
“Wow,” Daddy said, his voice full of appreciation. “You’ve been working awfully hard in here,” he complimented. He leaned down and murmured in my ear, “You’re being a very good girl tonight.” I felt his hand gently caress my butt through the skirt I was wearing, and I shivered. I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d been for his touch.
“Why don’t you sit down and relax while I get things finished?” I suggested as soon as I was able to speak without my voice wavering. “There’s a big salad in the fridge. You can always get started on it if you’re very hungry.”
“I’ll get it out, but I’ll wait until you sit down with me,” he replied. He pulled out the Caesar salad I’d put together. “Very nice,” he praised, and I glanced over at him in time to see his smile. I felt warm and good all over, knowing I’d pleased him.
I removed the chicken from the pan, then added the drained pasta to the sauce with a little of the cooking water. “How was your day?” I asked.
“It was very good,” he replied. “I was looking forward to coming home to you.” I felt that warm little tingle all through me again. It had been a long time since I’d lived with anyone, and even then, it had been my mother. It was nice hearing that somebody had been looking forward to seeing me at the end of the day. Of course, this was all an act, but it was still nice. There was something to be said for fixing a nice dinner for somebody other than myself for once.
“Did you do a lot of business today?” I asked.
“A decent amount,” he said.
“I guess with spring coming soon, things will pick up, and you’ll be pretty busy,” I pointed out, bringing a platter of chicken and pasta to the table. I saw that same smile on Daddy’s face, and it really made me feel good. I was becoming a regular little Daddy’s girl, feeling happy whenever I knew I’d pleased him. And I realized I didn’t mind at all.
“You’re right. This is the calm before the storm,” he explained after filling his plate. “I’m trying to enjoy the lull while I can, because I know I’ll be working insane hours soon enough.”
The thought bothered me, and I couldn’t suppress the little frown that crossed my face at his words. I hadn’t considered that his schedule would ever change, and these evenings together might be fewer.
“Everything okay?” he asked before taking a big bite of chicken. I was gratified to see his eyes close as he chewed. Anyone who cooks a meal for another person wants to see that certain look that says they’re enjoying it. It’s a sort of gratification that’s hard to put into words, just that confirmation that the time and effort was worthwhile. I smiled inwardly.
But I couldn’t forget what he’d just said, either, and that inner smile gave way to a pensive frown.
“Oh, sure, everything’s fine. I’m glad you like dinner,” I responded. He nodded with a big smile, so I continued, “I just hadn’t given any thought to your change in schedule. Of course, it makes total sense. You’re going to be super slammed in a little while. Probably throughout the spring and summer, I’d imagine?” I tried to keep my voice light and unaffected, but it wasn’t easy.
I was feeling rejected, plain and simple. And as much as I knew it was wrong, as much as I knew I was overreacting, I couldn’t help myself.
“Yeah . . . I guess so,” he replied. I looked up from my plate and saw that he looked to be as deep in thought as I was. Was he feeling the same way? Did he just come to the same realization I had?
His blue eyes met mine, and I looked away. There was so much going unspoken between us, but I didn’t have the courage to express what was going on in my heart. I didn’t even know if I could put it into words at this point. I was too conflicted.
I reminded myself not to put too much pressure on him. So what if we had to see less of each other? It wasn’t the end of the world. Life would go on. I’d gone nearly a week without our get-togethers, after all.
But I hadn’t enjoyed it.
“This really is delicious, Little Girl,” he said. I shook myself mentally and willed myself to keep participating. This personal, emotional stuff would have to wait for another time.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I said with a big smile. And he was right – it was good. I focused on eating, and on keeping the conversation away from the future. Live in the now, I reminded myself. I was so terrible at doing that.
After dinner, I told him to go into the living room to relax while I cleaned up. He tried to protest. “Please, you did all this work. The least I can do is help with the washing up,” he insisted. But I remained firm.
I could tell he was flattered, and pretty pleased with the way I was doting on him. And while I did want to make him happy, more than just a little bit of my desire to clean up alone was to have the time to compose myself. I had to think.
