AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m sure you’d catch me,” Sheree murmurs, lowering her face but I catch the coy smile she’s hiding.
My heart skips a beat for a moment, and in seconds it’s pounding against my ribs.
That ol’ wild love rhythm starting to pound in my chest as well as my pants again.
Why would she say that?
Because it’s true. I’d do more than catch her. I’d…
Alright, Casanova. How ‘bout just getting through dinner and a movie first?
Zoe grabs a hold of Sheree once she’s near the front door, and whisks her away inside.
Doing what those two do best, giggling and grappling with each other like they’re little kids all over again.
Zoe has always been great at lifting everyone’s mood if she’s in the right mood. And it’s not long before I’m alone in the hallway, hearing the pair of them in Zoe’s room as I wonder to myself.
Have I left it all too late?
My life, I mean. The whole boy meets girl thing is a little old when I’m forty-four and the girl in question isn’t even twenty-two yet.
Feeling the draft I’m letting in, I shut the front door and switch on the porch light for the delivery driver as I hang up my coat and scarf, almost calling out for the girls to do the same.
But I leave it. Even though I’d usually have plenty to say about the wet shoe prints on the floorboards and hallway runner.
I leave them to themselves for now, to their girlish fun.
To their youthful vigor, and wonder again if Sheree’s still just a young girl at heart really.
If she’d really want to settle down with an older guy, let alone be able to.
I mean, a younger woman like her. Intelligent, beautiful.
She’s got the world at her feet if she’d only care to see instead of being so down on herself.
I feel my jaw flex and my hand tightens before I force myself to relax.
I can’t control everything, but I can make sure I at least tell her tonight to meet me tomorrow.
Alone.
So we can start to plan Zoe’s birthday party of course.
And maybe see if we can’t do something about this party in my pants as well.
I groan quietly to myself and busy myself with a mop instead of anything else that feels like it’s made of solid wood.
The whole house looks like a bigger version of my office.
Half-filled boxes everywhere and no real sign of progress. But at least I’ll have more than this weekend to move houses.
The delivery of food is pretty quick for a Friday night, and once I’ve paid and tipped the driver, I set about arranging some plates and silverware at the kitchen table before calling the girls down.
Letting them both know the food is here.
Zoe’s first to bound down the hall, and she makes a point of urging me not to laugh for some reason, nudging her head towards the kitchen doorway.
Sheree walks in slowly, looking shy and embarrassed.
She’s taken her glasses off and I can see at once that Zoe’s done something to change her hair and applied some makeup.
Sheree’s a natural ten. An eleven.
She doesn’t need makeup or anything done to her hair.
But I still have to pick my jaw up off the floor. I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding a takeout container lid, completely immersed in her new look.
“It’s stupid, I know,” Sheree murmurs, shooting Zoe an almost angry look before she spins on her heel, saying she’ll be right back after she takes it all off.
“Don’t,” I hear myself say almost too loudly. Too quickly.
“I mean… Your dinner will get cold,” I add, eyeing the table full of Chinese takeout.
“Tell her she looks beautiful, dad,” Zoe drones, moving over and squeezing Sheree on the shoulders.
“You do,” I tell her, looking deep into her eyes. Wanting to kiss her right now more than anything. “You look truly beautiful, Sheree.”
There’s a long silence and Sheree flushes redder then a rose.
“Amen, let’s eat,” Zoe squeals as we all settle down to our banquet.
But the food almost looks unappetizing compared to Sheree.
I know what I’d rather be settling down to feed on for the night.
Every night from now on.
Chapter Five
Sheree
I don’t ask her, but Zoe insists on doing a mini makeover on me while she fixes her own face in front of her huge mirror.
The kind with all those light bulbs around it like stars used to have. Maybe they still do.
Next to her, I look fat though. Pale and blotchy, with lank hair lifted straight off a wet dog.
I’ve never cared much for hair and makeup, I’ve always figured what’s the point for a frumpy girl like me?
But when Zoe gets it in her head to do something, there’s no telling her otherwise.
She’s almost done by the time Michael calls us both for dinner, and I feel frozen to the spot with embarrassment.
