Every Daddy is a reference, a hidden threat to her mother. She’s feeling brave enough to flirt with danger, but I act like it’s perfectly natural. Like she’s always called me Daddy.
The card is simple: ‘You’re the very best father I ever could have imagined. Thank you so much for everything you do for me.’ The book is a small coffee table book about architecture in Switzerland, not the most inspired gift, but I’m touched by the sentiment. “Thank you so much, sweetie,” I say, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
“My turn,” grins Melanie, lifting a gift bag up from her feet and sliding it over to me. It appears to contain a bottle of wine. Better be a five-hundred dollar bottle of wine, I think to myself.
But when I open it up, it’s not. It’s a seven dollar wine at best, but one that surprises me with the warm memories it brings up. I laugh with genuine mirth as I pull it out of the bag.
“Almaden!” I exclaim, chuckling. “Oh my God. How did you ever find this?”
Melanie laughs too, clapping her hands, and for a moment it’s normal, and natural. She’s not acting or showing off. She’s just Melanie, if only for a moment. Melanie, the hilarious and wild woman I fell in love with so many years ago.
“Ha!” I bark out, as I pull out the other item out of the bag. It’s a DVD of the movie Spring Breakers. “Oh wow. I can’t believe this.”
“I found the wine at the liquor store. Can you believe they still make that? Then I knew I had to find the movie for you. The perfect pairing.”
“I think I liked this movie,” I say, and she laughs.
“C’mon! You barely saw any of it.”
“I definitely missed the ending of it.”
“What is it?” asks Hazel, a weak smile plastered on her face. “Is this a trip down Memory Lane or something?”
My laugh fades as I see the strain in her eyes, but I’m still smiling as I say, “Yeah, this was my first date with your mother. We saw this movie and she snuck this horrible wine into the theatre.”
Mel laughs at my description of the wine. “It was our second date,” she corrects me. “Because we didn’t…you know…on the first date.” She jerks her head towards Hazel-whose face pales-as if she’s censoring herself because of her.
It’s a fond memory for me, though, despite the awkwardness of sharing it in front of Hazel. Melanie and I had polished off the entire bottle of Almaden in the theatre, despite my very vocal complaints about it, which she found funny. The movie, which was gritty and sexy, featuring three young girls who were almost constantly clad in bikinis, had been popular that year but we’d waited too long to see it. We had the back row of the theatre to ourselves, which is why Melanie felt emboldened to straddle my lap, skirt hiked up and no panties on, and fuck me in the back row. There were several people in front of us, but trying to stay quiet made it even hotter. I remember thinking she had the tightest, sweetest little cunt I’d ever fucked.
“Thank you,” I say with real warmth. “That’s a great memory. I’ll let you keep the wine, though,” I quip.
“Your father and I used to do some pretty wild stuff,” Melanie says to Hazel. “You don’t know. We weren’t always the old fogeys you think we are. Your father is…a very sexual man.”
“Melanie,” I say sharply. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
“Oh, c’mon,” she says dismissively, lifting her wine glass. “She’s old enough to figure out we’ve fucked. And it was amazing,” she adds in an aside to Hazel.
“Melanie! That’s enough!”
Hazel puts her fork down on her plate and stands up. “Dad, I’m going to excuse myself.”
“That’s fine, honey,” I say, glowering at Melanie. She laughs as Hazel leaves the table and heads upstairs. “Don’t know where you two get off being so prudish,” she snickers.