From the moment I hit puberty and noticed boys, I’d had a thing for my dad’s best friend, Maurice Valentine, or Mo. It didn’t matter to me that he was seventeen years older than me. All my teenage fantasies revolved around him. In my dreams, he’d show up on his horse, Bolt, wearing soft, faded jeans and a green plaid rancher shirt that brought out the green in his hazel eyes. He’d tell me he dumped his mean old wife and whisk me away to teach me what it was like to be a woman. Alone in the bathtub, that vision gave me my first and many following orgasms.
I was smart enough when I was growing up to know that I had no chance with him. But now that I was eighteen and he was single, my prospects seemed better. Maybe I wouldn’t be the next Mrs. Maurice Valentine, but perhaps he could still show me what it was like to be a woman. I’d had some opportunities to lose my V-card in college, but except for a brief fling with Tucker Marshall that ended in us deciding we were better off as friends, I wasn’t that interested in the boys at school. Over all the years I’d had a crush on Mo, it never waned. That had to mean he should be my first, right?
He showed up at my father’s holiday party a little earlier than the other guests. My father said that he thought Mo was handling his wife leaving fairly well, but not so much being alone in the house. I wanted to offer to keep him company there, but I kept that thought to myself.
Mo looked even better than I remembered. He wore dark slacks and a green sweater over a t-shirt that made his hazel eyes pop with green. He smiled when he saw me, and my heart did flip-flops in my chest. Oh, how I longed for him to see me as more than his friend’s daughter or just a kid. I wanted to keep his bed warm now that his wife was gone.
My father wasn’t a stranger to losing a wife, although in his case, my mom died when I was young. He dated a little bit after that but never got serious about anyone. Sometimes I wished he would, as I worried about him being here alone while I was gone. But now that the evil bitch Shelley had left Mo, he was spending more time with my dad, and I noticed a difference in my dad’s attitude with having his friend more present in his life again.
The party was festive, and I enjoyed seeing all our friends from Salvation again. Dad enjoyed it a little too much, imbibing the eggnog with whiskey, although by the end, I think he was drinking straight whiskey. Even Mo looked a little bit lit, but not drunk. He looked so handsome when he was relaxed.
As the party winded down, I helped people find their coats and purses and escorted them out, until it was just dad and Mo, sitting on the couch in the sunroom, looking out over the snow-covered prairie.
“They’re all gone,” I said to them. I looked back toward the kitchen at the mess. I blew out a breath that puffed my bangs up. “I’ll get started on the cleanup.”
“Let me help,” Mo said, standing.
“I’ll help, too.” My dad tried to stand, but he wobbled.
“Whoa there, Frank,” Mo said, reaching out to steady my father. “Maybe we should get you to bed.”
“Nah, I can help.”
I looked at my dad and shook my head. “Let’s get you to bed, Dad.”
“I’ll take him. Why don’t you get some water and pain reliever?” Mo asked, putting his arm around my father.
I hurried to the kitchen to get the needed remedies to help offset my father’s hangover tomorrow. By the time I reached my father’s room, Mo had my dad’s shoes off and the covers pulled up to his chin.
“Dad, drink some water and take these,” I said, handing him the water and pills.
“My daughter takes such good care of me,” my father said, grinning at me. “That’s what you need, Mo. A good woman to take care of you.”
Mo flinched, and I felt bad. I agreed with my father’s assessment, but I knew it couldn’t be easy to be dumped, even by an evil bitch like Shelley.
“It seems you got all the good women, Frank, between Laura and your daughter. You’ve been blessed.”
“Ah, Laura. My angel.” My father turned his glassy eyes on me. “You’re just like her, Brooke. Beautiful. Sweet. I’m so proud of you, baby.”
I smiled. I’d seen pictures of my mom, and while I didn’t think I was ugly, my mom was gorgeous. Had she left Salvation and gone to New York or Los Angeles, she’d probably have become a model or movie star. I had her blonde hair and blue eyes, but I was rounder than she had been. The freshman fifteen I’d gained in college meant I had even more curves.
“Thank you, Dad. You get some rest now.”
“What about the dishes?” my father asked.
“Don’t worry about them,” I assured him.
“I’ll help her, Frank. Get some rest.”
“You’re a good friend, Mo.”
Mo looked at me and smiled, amused by my father. Me? Seeing Mo smile like that made all my girlie parts light up.
As we left my father in his room, I wondered if maybe I could convince Mo that I wasn’t his friend’s little girl. I was a woman now. A woman with needs. A need for Mo to touch me most intimately.
“I haven’t had a chance to ask you about school,” Mo said as we set to work on the kitchen.
“It’s fine.”
“Are you enjoying your classes?” He dunked his hands into the soapy water to wash some of the trays.
“For the most part. It’s all gen ed now. I can’t wait until I
