“I had to grow up fast… seeing my mother hurt my father and seeing him retaliate, no, please, don’t get mad… I’m not about you doing what you did to Mom. She had it coming. I’m still livid at how she treated you and us. Part of me thinks that she has bipolar or BPD or something like that. Or maybe she’s just a bitch.
“Sorry, yes, I know, she’s my mother and she can be sweet and kind at times… and good in some ways. But she still hurt someone that I loved… more than one someone in fact. The fact that she is also someone I love… that’s just the messy nature of divorce and that kind of drama.
“It doesn’t help that… sorry, Daddy, but… I do feel things for you that I shouldn’t feel for my old man. I don’t know why or what’s wrong with me… and I haven’t revealed this to my counselor. I can’t,” Angel pleaded with me for understanding with her eyes.
Just then, I called over Maddie, having devoured the calamari, and ordered, “Okay, more cold brew for me, more iced tea for my daughter… and surf and turf. The steak should be medium rare. Baked potato with butter, cheese, sour cream, and chives. Asparagus, plenty of butter for it, though. Are you ready to order, baby?”
“Um… chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, plenty of gravy on both, and green beans. I have an appetite suddenly… quite a hearty one at that. I wonder why,” Angel blushed now, “you really should call Maddie when you get the chance, Daddy. Think of how insanely jealous that would make Mom… especially if.”
My daughter intentionally left the rest of that sentence to dangle in the air. Maddie now caressed my hand for no clear professional reason, making it obvious that it was for a personal motive, her eyes flashing with her rather emboldened lust. The way that she bit her bottom lip was very telling, even for an eternal pessimist like me. The next second that followed completely floored me. Maddie closed the distance between us, puckered up, and softly kissed me on the mouth. That I didn’t pull away from her kiss, and indeed, that my daughter chose that moment to touch my hand, made this scene feel like something out of a porn flick, yet here we were.
“There’s no if, sir… ma’am… I will deny you nothing. Nothing,” Maddie said those words as if speaking to both of us, much to my surprise.
“Madeline Grace O’Donnell! What are you doing? I’m sorry if she has bothered you, sir. This isn’t like her, I swear,” Genevieve interrupted us.
“Don’t worry. I’m cool. I’m good. It was… amazing. Unexpected… but amazing. Don’t be mad at the girl. She’s… just acting on an impulse, I think. She probably won’t do that in the future,” I reassured her aunt.
“No, sir… not with others. I just had to with…,” Maddie blushed crimson as she realized that she didn’t know my name.
“Simon March. It’s okay. Don’t punish her. This won’t be repeated. This is my daughter, Angel,” I added, in case they hadn’t heard.
“Daddy was very charmed by Maddie, I can just tell, but she is rather enchanting. She’s done excellent service in any case. I’m not mad that someone is healing Daddy’s wounded pride or ego or other feelings. Mom did a number on him. I love her, but she was just… ghastly, beastly to my old man here. It was a disgrace,” Angel supported my stance.
“Alright, thank you for being so patient with my niece, both of you. I won’t forget that. Run along and take their orders to the kitchen, sweetie,” Genevieve gave me a strange glance while sending Maddie on to give the orders to the cooks, “it was unprofessional and inappropriate and all that jazz, but you’ve been so understanding. I can’t fault her taste in men, anyway.”
That was as close as Genevieve came to flirting with me herself, of course. Then she returned to her post. I sat there and ate some buttered bread, as did Angel, while our hands instinctively touched each other now. Every expression on her face registered her conflict, her self-judgment, her torment, her desire, her infatuation, etc. I grasped it, of course. She was truly torn over her feelings about me. It was far harder for her than for Maddie, since I was a taboo crush for her. I wasn’t just some older man. I was her own father. I had sired her and her sisters on her mother and helped bring her into this world.
“So… this is your ultimate Daddy issue, then,” I finally broke the ice.
“Yes, Daddy, the fact that I’m in love with you is quite a Daddy issue, wouldn’t you say? And yes, I am in love with you. And so are my sisters. I can promise you that. I know that’s very messy, but I think that perhaps your only way out of this temptation is to yield to it,” Angel told me rather bravely, “and here’s the kicker… Mom’s still in love with you, too.”
“You could have fooled me on that one,” I caustically retorted.
“Yes, well, that’s because, after millions of years of evolution, women still don’t know how to communicate their feelings to men. Then we turn around and tell men to communicate clearly and to open up. What a joke! It’s stupid, especially how women don’t know how to act on their love for a man. They still don’t get that men equate certain actions with love and certain actions with hate or indifference.
“Women still swim in our emotions like fish in the ocean or something, whereas men look for tangible signs of love. Love is a feeling, of course, but men can’t read minds, so you look for something tangible as proof. Something practical. I get that, trust me. We still expect men to know what we want as reassurance… and to accept our words of validation as evidence of love. That’s because words often make us feel loved, as do gestures, but practical gifts are often seen as unromantic, because they are routine or mundane,” Angel noted, feeling a bit embarrassed at her loose talk now.
“Okay, fair enough, but that ship has sailed. With your mother, as you know. I can never trust her again,” I reminded my daughter.
“I know, I know… but, Daddy, you can trust me… and my sisters. Becca and Lauren both love you and want you and need you, just as I do. Maybe we can include Maddie, too,” Angel now suggested.
“So… you’re… actively lobbying for an incestuous affair? With not just you, but your sisters? What about your future? Marriage, if you want that… babies… what about…,” I trailed, at which point Maddie returned with the entrees.
“Daddy, I know that this sounds strange, but to me, to Becca, and to Lauren… you’re our future, our past, our present… our everything. Let’s… at least give it a shot, and know that, whatever happens, you will always be our father… we will always adore you. It’s just how it is. I know that it sounds shocking… and you didn’t see this coming, but that might be your autism. Yes, Daddy, I know all about that,” Angel told me as she dug into her supper and I into mine.