My Best Friend's Dad

By Ronnee-Lee Parks

Amelia grew up without a father in her life, that is if you didn't count her best friend's father, David. After her mom died, she moved in with some cousins, met Meagan and they became fast friends. They rode horses, went to college together and lived near enough that they enjoyed each other's company daily. Amelia was an honorary family member and was at every function. David was always in the background being the father figure Amelia never had.

One day Amelia found herself in a situation and since then nothing has been the same. She struggles with her inner turmoils and beliefs and with her losing her best friend over the situation. Most of all, she struggles with her newly discovered feelings for someone she once considered a father.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ronnee-Lee Parks
• Release date: Jul 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310592478

Ronnee-Lee Parks

I am a mother and grandmother of some precious children. I have a wonderful husband who is great at entertaining my active imagination and encourages me to write. I am happy when writing, as much as when I ride my horses.

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Best Friend’s Dad 299

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This book is a work of fiction and while there is some resemblance to persons, living or dead, and/or places, events or locales the actions, thoughts, words and locales are all fictitious. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

This book contains mature content (language, violence and sexual situations) and is intended for mature readers.

Acknowledgement and Thanks

I want to thank Willard, a dear departed man, who was my best friend’s dad and more importantly like a dad to me too. Our lives were often thrown together as the single adults which led to use becoming friends. He was the only father I had known for decades. He was there for me during my divorce and after. He was kind and always had his family ahead of his own interests. He is greatly missed by all of those who ever knew him, including me. Yes, our friendship, sparked a question in my mind years ago that I created out into the scenario that you will be reading here. Willard, we all love you and miss you daily. You were an inspiration to us all. Yes, everything in this book is completely fictional for like I said earlier, it all began with a single question…What if…

Ronnee-Lee

My Best Friend’s Dad

S

ometimes, I wonder when I will stop pounding my fists into my pillow in a fury of anger and frustration. Sometimes, I wonder if I am normal. I mean how many people fall in love with their best friend’s father. This isn’t some sort of puppy love thing. This is a true, I can’t live without my soul mate, love. I’ve known David since I first met his daughter Meagan. I am a grown woman. I should know better than this." Amelia began as she sat on the counselor’s couch. She looked at the strange man and took another breath. She could tell he was waiting for her to continue.

I love Meagan. We have been best friends since I moved here 20 years ago. We have always gotten along famously and enjoy each other’s company tremendously. We have been through child birth, divorce and my adulterous marriage together. We have bailed each other out of jail and been at each other’s college graduations. I watched her children grow from the new born babe to the almost teen. I would never do anything intentional to hurt her, and yet I have. Again, Amelia paused. This man wasn’t saying a danged thing to her, should she just continue to prattle on?

To say the least it is weird. I used to think of this man like a father. She topped letting her emphasis on father sink in, but still no reaction from the muted person across from her. His divorce came through shortly after mine. I am friends with his ex-wife, Meagan’s mother, so how could I dream of ever doing this? A part of me feels like I am cheating with him on Ginger when I think like this. Exasperated, Amelia looked at this man, he seemed to be writing something down, so at least, she mused to herself, he was alive. Another deep sigh was followed by more of her story.

I guess for you to understand where I am at in this point in time, I need to back track some. Amelia scratched her head and continued. I met Meagan about twenty years ago when I moved here. We met in elementary school and have been best friends ever since. We even attended the same university together, majoring differently, but having the same minors. We each met and married a college beau. However, her marriage is still strong today, whereas mine failed miserably. Why? Well, that is another story all together. Where I couldn’t have children, Meagan was fertile and I lived vicariously through her and her family. A tear tried to form in the corner of Amelia’s eye as she thought of all she would miss.

I always enjoyed conversations with David, Meagan’s Dad. He held me while I cried in happiness at my engagement and, soon thereafter, Meagan’s. He held me while I cried at my first and only stillbirth. He held me while I cried because the doctor told me that the stillbirth in itself was a miracle and that I technically wasn’t even able to carry. He comforted me while I cried for my dead babe and for my departing husband, who happened to choose that day to leave. David seemed to be the father I never had.

Again, Amelia looked at this balding man. She stared at the top of his head while she tried hard to remember why he seemed so familiar to her. After a few moments of silence, she realized her perusal of him was costing her money. He never asked me for anything, including consolation when his divorce was final. He and his wife, Ginger, had been having difficulties with each other for years and decided they had enough. It tore apart Meagan but not her brother. I think that down inside he knew this divorce was inevitable.

Amelia sat quietly again, wondering if this was a waste of time. She picked Dr. Paul Snider’s name up from somewhere and he had an appointment for her that day when she called. This was an emergency in her mind so she went to his office. Now she was beginning to wonder why he had an appointment conveniently open for her? Was he even any good? She finally continued with her story. "We were able to talk about anything. There were several times after our divorces that we watched a movie together. I laid my head on his lap and he played with my hair. I was always relaxed around him. He never made me feel out of place or unloved.

"One time we went dancing at a local lounge. He knew the band and they played a slow dance song, much to my chagrin. I laughed and explained he was my best friend’s father and we were here because of mutual loneliness and not because of an interest. They laughed. The whole band laughed. Luckily, David couldn’t see me draw my entire face into a distorted, red concoction. Because you see, at that time, I only thought of David as a second father. I never thought of him as anything else, or at least I refused to allow myself to see things differently." Now, Amelia was going to get to the meat of her problem. She took another breath and prattled on again.

There were a couple of times when he kissed me but they were always plutonic, friendly kisses. The first real kiss was a shock. I mean, he never mentioned liking me, or wanting to date me or anything. Accentuating the pause with another deep breath, Amelia looked sad as she continued, "We were thrown together, while others were doing something else, because we tended to be the only single adults. We were watching a movie in the living room, waiting on Meagan and Bud to return. I tried to pay attention, but for some reason this particular time, I was very uncomfortable leaning back against David. His arm was across the back of the couch. I could feel his warmth through his shirt and mine as I leaned against his side for support. I had my knees up, leaning against the couch back and desperately tried to concentrate on the movie.

I am not sure how long I struggled with this, but somewhere during my intense battle for concentration, his hand drifted off the back of the couch to my arm where it softly stroked up and down. This casual, friendly touch was somehow to me, more intimate than anything I had ever experienced before. Amelia paused again. She sat on her hands because since she tended to talk with her them, they were flailing all over the place accentuating each word with a movement.

After what seemed an eternity of his soft, indelible touches, I was so unnerved and sexually tensed that I excused myself to the restroom. Amelia paused again. She could feel the tension that evening, smell his scent and describe his touch like it just happened to her. She sure couldn’t remember what was on TV thought Her memory and faraway look caused Dr. Snider to finally speak up.

So, what happened next? His deep voice asked. Amelia was a little miffed because that was all he said. She steeled herself for the rest of the story which was playing itself out in her mind like a jumbled mess.

I went to the sink and washed my hands. As I looked into the mirror, I saw my flushed face and became furious. ‘What was I doing?! I was looking way too far into a casual friendly thing. There wasn’t anything between us, nor could there ever be. Damnit, he was my best friend’s father.’ Is what I remember saying to myself. After I wet my face to cool off the intense heat I felt emitting from it, I convinced myself that I was just overreacting to something he had no idea he caused. Amelia closed her eyes, leaned back on the couch and relived her story, uninterrupted by her own nuances.

***

Damn, damn, damn, I thought to myself, I need to go out and get some. That will stop this craziness. I hadn’t had sex in over a year. I am young and beautiful and enjoy dating. I am, by no means promiscuous, but I don’t feel the need to remain celibate either. I was already married, so there isn’t a debate as to my virginity but there is this on-going inner battle of whether or not it is right to sleep with someone outside of marriage. But right or wrong, there are times when you just need to let go and enjoy yourself.

I gathered my wits which me took several minutes and finally left the bathroom with some semblance of sanity. I walked back into the darkened room and became immediately aware of the returning sexual tension within me. I desperately tried to shake it off and act normal but I couldn’t.

David was sitting on the couch in the same spot but in a different position. He had more of a casual, relaxed look about him now as he leaned against the corner of the couch. I couldn’t see anything in him that led me to believe that he harbored the same feelings. He looked up and saw me standing there staring at him and he smiled. He patted the couch and I robotically walked over and sat down next to him. This time, however, I sat upright without leaning against him.

I was completely unnerved that our innocent, father-daughter type of times were ruined. I believed it was my fault and I worked hard to correct things. Besides the slow dancing that one night, he hadn’t ever acted as anything but father-daughter, to me, anyway.

I was sitting stiffly next to him, when I heard him softly utter my name, Amelia?

Yes? I was able to squeeze out between constricted throat muscles.

Then he asked, Aren’t you going to lean back again?

I muttered, Um, ya, sure. But I didn’t move.

Amelia? He waited a few minutes before asking again.

Yes

You are making it for me hard to see. He said nonchalantly with this sweet smile.

Immediately chastised, I laughed and shook off the tenseness I developed. See, I told myself, you are over reacting. I turned to look at him and apologized and I leaned back again and waited for things to return to normal.

My hair was long, as it still is now, and when I turned my head, the hair caught up on my wet lips. Wet, I am assuming, because I just licked them. I watched him bring his hand forth and move the hair. His light touch of my face sent shivers down my spine and I closed my eyes taking in a deep breath to try and still these feelings that were vibrating up and down my body from my brain to my toes. While my eyes were closed, I felt his hand slip to the back of my neck. No big deal, I remember thinking, he has given me numerous neck and back rubs during my divorce. He always told me I was too tense and, to me, in a fatherly way, tried to relax me.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking into his. His hand pulled the back of my neck towards him and I found myself leaning in. When our lips met for the first time, it was something I never experienced before. My head exploded around me and I instantly grew warm from head to toe. The shock to my system was almost too much and I moaned out loud. His kiss was short and soft, his lips just grazing mine. My mouth parted, most involuntarily I assure you, and he kissed me again. His hand pulled harder on the back of my neck and I leaned closer as our lips reunited. He grasped my hair and turned my head so he could kiss me deeper. I was falling quickly, both in reality and hypothetically, and had to catch my over-lean by placing my hand on the couch arm.

One hand propped myself on the couch and the other supported weight on the couch arm. David’s free arm found its way to my face and he softly caressed it. His large, work hardened hands created tingles and twitches as it grazed my cheek and jaw line. His firmer, more experienced lips parted mine so he could gently slip his tongue in. With the feelings that were ravaging my body, I knew I had to stop, or this would go too far, however, I remember not being able to do anything but respond to his kisses. I never once thought about him being Meagan’s father, Ginger’s ex-husband, or my adopted father. For once and probably the first time ever, I thought of him as a man.

He is a very good looking man, with salt and peppered black hair, and striking blue/grey eyes. His facial features were strong and tanned from his construction business. His body…tall, lean and muscular. He was intelligent and quick witted and always a laugh. I used to envy Ginger and wanted someone like him for a husband, and I was jealous of Meagan for having him as a father. He doted on his children.

His hand left my face and I do not remember thinking anything other than some minute struggles about my increasing sexual tension. I wanted him as a man like I never wanted anyone before, even my ex-husband. His straying appendage drifted down and lightly grazed my breast. I broke our kiss free and leaned my head back in anguish. Everything he did, everywhere he touched, set me on fire. His other hand pulled me forward onto him as he scooted sideways on the couch. Strength left my body and I fell forward as my hand moved too far away from the arm. I was now, if I remember correctly, half lying on him and half on the couch. Both of his arms were about me, one buried in my hair pressing the kiss and the other roaming up and down my back, leaving trails of electricity everywhere it touched.

As I look back I laugh, because what seems to take an eternity to describe only lasted a few minutes. We had no sooner settled down when we heard a car pull into the driveway. The tires crunched the gravel road that led to the large two story home David had built some twenty years earlier. The car noise started to bring me back to reality and I pulled back some. He fought to keep me there, close to him, but I finally resisted soundly. When I heard car doors shut and children laughing, I jumped up, face flushed and horribly embarrassed at what I was almost caught doing.

I, uh, I…

What is wrong? He asked softly, with passion, darkened eyes.

I, uh, I… was all I seemed to be able to mumble. Luckily, the door was shut and the downstairs family room was on the other side of the house, so I had a few more moments than if we were in the front room. I glanced about, like a criminal looking for an escape route.

What is wrong? David stood and walked over to me, but I backed up. We are both of age and consenting adults. Nothing that happened was wrong. He reached for me, but I stumbled backwards again, knocking over the table lamp.

Why don’t you go to the restroom and gather yourself together. David’s hand reached my arm before I could retreat again and pulled me quickly to the bathroom, where he turned the light on and, after one quick perfunctory kiss on the lips, shut the door. I am not sure how long I stood cemented in place before I was able to move. At that time, I remember it seeming like forever, but now I am sure it was only seconds.

I heard Meagan’s voice, Hey Dad, where is Amelia? I heard them kiss and him hugging his grandchildren with his great bear growl hugs, lights were being turned on and off and loads of groceries were being brought into the kitchen by several people from the sound of it.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I flushed the toilet and splashed my face some cold water. I found one of Meagan’s face powders and puffed my face, thereby lightening some of the dark redness from our heated passion that crept into my cheeks. My fingers circled my swollen lips that were, a few moments earlier, fervently kissing the man I had grown up thinking of as a father. I shook my head, unable to believe what just happened. Meagan would be furious. I knew I had to get out of the house without talking to her, for I would never be able to face her right now. I grabbed my cell out of my purse, which, thankfully, David had the forethought to toss in with me, and using the ringer option, made the cell sound like it just rang.

I came out of the bathroom in a rush, Yes, Congressman Swift, I will be right there. I know, I think we will be ok, but I will meet you at the headquarters and we will double check everything. Ok? Can you please hold for a moment sir?

I put my hand over the phone, Sorry, Meagan. I have been waiting here to see you but, well, you know its election season and the boss called. Love ya hun and I will catch you later ok? I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and put the phone back to my ear to carry on my phony conversation. Yes, sir, I am back. I walked to the door and was surprised to see David waiting there to open it.

I will walk her out. Meagan you just see to those half-starved children of yours. David winked at me.

I can show my-self out, Mr. Fletcher. I know the way, you know that. The words stumbled out of my mouth in a jumble of syllables. I tried to laugh, but almost forgot I was supposed to be carrying on a conversation with my boss. Yes, sir, I was just saying good bye, I am on my way. I paused for effect. Yes, sir. Again, I paused. Damn, I thought, I am a good actress. Yes, sir. I will look that up.

I left David standing in the door way, or so I thought. I arrived at my sleek black Ford Mustang Cobra, which was parked to the side where no one could see anything from the house. It is my own special spot they keep for me. Last year Meagan had a sign erected that said, Amelia’s Parking Spot Only as a joke. As I bent over to open the door, I felt the cell phone jerked out of my hand.

Didn’t think so. David turned me around to face him. What is wrong with you? We have to talk about this. You can’t leave like this.

May I have my cell phone back? Was my only response.

Sir, Amelia said you can kiss her ass and she is not coming in. He said into the phone. I never flinched for I knew no one was there. He smiled at me and shut the flip phone and handed it back. I tried to build up a resistance to him, but I could feel myself warming up to his touch again, my body betraying my mind and thoughts.

Amelia, talk to me. Please? David begged me, his gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with compassion. That was the first time I noticed his unusually deep blue eyes. Not normal blue like mine but much bluer, like the Pacific Ocean off of Hawaii blue.

I had to look away. He was turning my insides to butter. I don’t know what to say, except I am sorry. I looked down and fidgeted with my cell phone.

He took my chin and lifted it up. I nervously looked around to see if anyone could see. No one can see us from the house. They would have to go out on the porch and we would hear them long before they could see us. My panicked state of mind caused a tear to slip out of its hiding place and trail down my face to his thumb. When he became aware of the moisture he turned my head so he could see the side of my face in the dim light. Why are you crying? Have I hurt you in any way? And what was this Mr. Fletcher stuff? You haven’t called me that in years.

Oh, I don’t know. I am so confused. I mean, you are Meagan’s father. I tried to look down again, but he wouldn’t let me.

Am I your father? he asked with a smile.

No. I said shaking my head softly.

Then, what is the problem? His thumb was again brushing the side of my face, sweeping gently back and forth across my cheek. I remember closing my eyes and thinking how much I wanted this man. I literally wanted to throw him down right there and make love to him.

She would be so upset. I would never do anything to ruin our friendship.

Do you like me?

Of course, I love you, but…

As a father?