That went back and forth for about an hour until Mike threatened to change the locks the next time we went out, so that was that. A couple of days later, we were at the train station. Mike had said his goodbyes at the condo. We both promised to be back out for Thanksgiving in October.
At the train station, Daddy was pensive. I tried to be supportive and cuddle into him a bit. I also resolved that if our time in the Rockies was to recharge me for school, my job was to distract him from thinking about his parents.
“Kitten, I know it’s probably a long way off, but you know I’m not putting you through that, right?” he said.
It was still early and the coffee hadn’t kicked in. I was also distracted by the thought of spending 12 hours on the train to Banff. Daddy swore it would be fun, but riding the train between Montreal and Kingston for almost two years had killed any romantic feelings I had towards rail travel. So I wasn’t sure what he was talking about and it must have shown.
“The only thing that bothers me about our relationship is that because I am so much older than you that I might get sick and you might have to waste years of your life taking care of me,” he said. “And if this dementia is something that runs in the family and that I’m vulnerable to it, I am not putting you through that. Do you understand?”
It was better than a triple shot of espresso for waking me up. I also wanted to hit him repeatedly for being that stupid. I took a deep breath.
“Daddy, if I got diagnosed with leukemia tomorrow and told you there was nothing you could do and you should just abandon me, what would you do?” I asked, looking across the train station.
“Kitten…” he started.
“What. Would. You. Do?” I asked again.
He lowered his head. “Assume you weren’t thinking correctly, ignore you, and do everything I could to take care of you.”
“Exactly. Don’t be so dumb, Daddy,” I said and then waved my hand with the engagement ring by his face. “For better or for worse isn’t some idle promise.”
He took my hand and kissed it.
“It’s killing my dad. I just don’t want to put you through that,” he said quietly.
I wanted to strangle him for worrying, but I also knew his heart was in the right place.
“You’re going to live to be 110, I’ll be 80, and we’ll be scandalizing the residents of seniors’ home when I’m walking around with the anal plug tail,” I said. He laughed. “I know you mean well, but I don’t want us buying worries that we may never have to deal with.”
He had an odd expression on his face. Then he nodded and kissed me on the head.
“When did my little girl get so wise?” he said.
“From my very wise Daddy,” I replied.
***
Banff was beautiful but weird. For a prairie girl like me, all the big ass mountains were odd. I’d flown over the Rockies several times in the last year, so I knew they were there and they were big. I’d seen lots of pictures of them as well.
But it’s something else when they’re right…. there. I resisted the urge several times to grab my Daddy and point at them, just to make sure that he saw them too.
The town itself was also weird. I was used to seeing large numbers of tourists. I’d just come from Vancouver; I spent the summer in Toronto, and lived in Montreal. Hell, even Kingston got its share of visitors.
But I’d never seen so many obviously foreign visitors in such a small town. That was kinda cool. What wasn’t cool was the attention I seemed to be getting. I’d bought a few things when I was in Vancouver, a few sundresses to replace the one I left in Saskatchewan, a halter top, a couple of mini-skirts, and a few other things. It’s summer, and I wanted to be comfortable and look cute for my Daddy.
But I certainly caught a few people trying to sneak pictures of me. In some cases, not even subtly trying to sneak pictures of me. At first it was amusing and even sort of flattering. By day two, it had switched over to annoying and occasionally creepy. Plus, it was agitating the crap out of Daddy, who has a huge protective streak for his little girl. We were even getting it when we were walking in the woods or hiking.
But things came to a head when we hit the hot springs. Maybe it was immature or silly to wear the tiny green bikini, but I love how I look in it, and I know my Daddy loves how I look in it. So why shouldn’t I wear it?
But then I got a reminder that I can be naive. Because the instant that Daddy left my side to use the bathroom, it was like there was blood in the water for a particular variety of male shark. I was sitting in one of the springs when three guys, all around my age, came over to chat me up.
“You must love your dad,” the blonde bro with some tattoo on his bicep said to me. It momentarily threw me until I realized he didn’t say daddy. I tried to give the vibe that I wanted to be left alone, but these kinds of guys are not usually the type to pick up on “fuck off and leave me alone vibes.”
“He’s not my father; he’s my fiance. He’ll be back in a minute, so if you don’t mind…”
The bro groupmind couldn’t comprehend that and started laughing.
“What? He’s old enough to be your father. C’mon, you can do better than that,” said bro #2, who had a shaved head. The implication being that he and his buddies would be the ones who could help me do better.
I’d dealt with assholes when I was a teenager, but I was rusty due to lack of practice. I had Daddy since I hit college and was so busy at school I hadn’t had to deal with them. And now, I had three of them around me, trying to be what they thought was charming. Because, you know, shitting on a woman’s decisions is always the way to heart and panties.
I sighed and lowered my sunglasses. I am a tiny thing and these are three large men. But in my favor I am a redhead with a latent vicious streak. I like it when Daddy takes care of me; it doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself when I have to.
“Look guys, I’m sure there’s someone around here that will be flattered by your attention, but it’s not me. He’s my fiance, I’m off the market, so if you wouldn’t mind moving along, that’d be great,” I said.
The smiling and easy charm evaporated, which I expected. They didn’t look like the kind of guys that took no for an answer easily.
“It’s not her dad; it’s her sugar daddy,” bro #3 chimed in. He was growing some tragically long beard. “Just another whore.”
The three of them looked at me with disgust and moved away. The smart play was to let them leave and nurse their overinflated egos. I’d never tell Daddy about it and I’d forget about it soon enough.
The problem was, ever since the dust-up with mom in Saskatchewan, I was less willing to put up with people’s bullshit. And I was feeling a bit bitchier. So…
“Better a whore than a small dicked Incel,” I fired back at them.
Ooops.
The three of them whipped back around to face me as if they were a bro hive mind. It wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but fuck those guys. They moved towards me and I could see a lot of posturing and profanity was coming my way. There were way too many people around for me to feel threatened. But Daddy was going to be back soon so this was going to become a thing.
But just before things got epically stupid, a blonde lady waded into my area with a couple of kids behind her. She looked like she was in her early 30s, wearing a one-piece suit. She wasn’t overweight but had curves.
“Karen! We’ve been looking all over for you! Did you get lost?” she asked.
I am not Karen, but I know a life preserver when I see one. The bro hivemind was confused. They wanted to teach the uppity bitch a lesson, but a mother and kids blocked their path. I could tell it hurt their brains.
I decided to take the lifeline. The bros weren’t worth it, and if it kept Daddy from getting into a yelling match and using his cane, all the better.
“Yeah, sorry Kate. The fiance and I just wanted some time alone,” I said.
The kids looked baffled by their mom talking to a stranger like an old friend. The bros decided retreat was the better option but shot vengeful looks my way as they departed. I’d have to keep an eye out for those assholes for the rest of the trip.
I nodded at “Kate” to give her the all-clear. She glanced over his shoulder to confirm they were gone. Then she told the kids they could go off and play, which they gladly did, and then turned and looked at me.
“Small dicked Incels?” she said, putting a hand on her hip.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” I replied.
She laughed and introduced herself as Sonja. It turns out she spent a chunk of her 20s working bars and was used to bailing out girls who got themselves in over their heads.
“I was over my head?” I asked, knowing that, yeah, I probably was in deeper water than normal.
“It’s a great line and funny as hell. But you know what group doesn’t have much of a sense of humor?” she asked.
“You’re right, but I don’t like being called a whore,” I said, running a hand through my hair.
She nodded. “Yeah, nobody should have to put up with that shit, but may I recommend in the future if you’re going to pick a fight with three guys who conservatively weigh six times as much as you do, have some back-up.”
“Fair enough,” I said. Off to the side, I saw Daddy coming back our way. She caught my glance and looked over where I was staring.
“Your man?”
I nodded.
“Are you going to tell him what happened?”
“Noooooo,” I said. “Well, maybe tomorrow. If I tell him now it’ll be a whole thing.”
“Probably a good idea. Nice meeting you,” she said and then walked off to track down her kids.
Daddy came up and gave me an inquisitive look.
“She complimented me on my bikini,” I said, feeling a slight pang for lying to him. I hated doing it, but it was the lesser evil.
“Well, it is quite the bikini,” he said, leaning down and kissing me. My pussy got damp in a way that had nothing to do with the hot springs I was sitting in.
“I’m happy to model it for you in a more private setting,” I said. It served the dual purpose of getting us out of here if those clowns came back and it got me laid. It was a full-of-win proposal.
“Well, how can I resist that offer,” he said, holding out his hand.