Mackenzie Day 03 - Manic Monday

"Did he take you out for the day?" Jennifer looked up at me, and then back down at the table. "Okay. So...he doesn't need to give you gifts or do nice things to get in your undies."

"Jesus Christ Dad," Jennifer hissed.

"Sorry. Pants. Panties, whatever. The point is, no. He doesn't need to do that shit. Is it old school? Yeah. Is it a requirement? No. Not unless you make it one. But...does he treat you right? Is he nice to you?"

"I...I guess so," she said.

"Come on baby. You gotta tell me something. I gotta know this guy isn't a complete fucking dip-shit. Tell me some nice things about him. Hurry up cause he's gonna be back any minute."

"Okay, uh...he likes to tell jokes," Jennifer said.

"Alright, so, he likes to make you smile."

"Nooo," Jennifer said, shaking her head. "No, he uh, he's a little embarrassing... his jokes aren't for everyone."

"Okay, alright. What else?"

"His family is really nice. His sister is really sweet and his mom is a hard-ass."

"Okay," I said, nodding with approval. "But, those are his relatives. His family. Have you asked any of them what they think of him?"

"Wouldn't they just say good things?" Jennifer asked.

"Mmmm, maybe. But unless he's a complete asshole, maybe not. What else?"

"He's got a nice body," she said in as close to a whisper as possible.

"Well. Okay. Good family, nice body. What else. Is he smart?"

"I don't know. I think he dropped out of school."

"Shit," I said. "What does he do for fun?"

"He uh...he likes to write song lyrics."

"Okay," I said, and then I sat up, seeing David exit the bathroom and come walking back toward the table. "Alright well, he can order the Calzone, but if he doesn't offer to pay at least something toward the bill, he's loosing a point."

"So you're taking score?" Jennifer asked.

"Don't play with me baby girl. I already know you're taking score," I said.

"Oh damn! Are you tryin' to spit pops?" David said as he came back to the table and slid back into the seat.

"No," I said, smirking. "I don't like to spit." I nudged Jennifer when she made no move to get up, but she did then, and she went back to sit next to David.

"Why not? Sounds like you'd be killa."

"What does that mean?" I asked. "Not the killa part. Spit. What is spit?"

"Spittin' lyrics," David said, putting his hands together and pulling them apart multiple times in the process. "It's freestylin'. Comin' up with the lyrics on the fly."

"Sounds like you know what you're talking about," I said.

"Oh yeah, yeah. I like to freestyle."

"Cool," I said, repeating a word he'd used, and he seemed encouraged by it.

"Wanna hear a few beats?"

"Oh, uh, sure," I said, smiling at Jennifer who looked like she was about to be mortally wounded.

"Alright. Here it is," David said, and then he started making sounds with his mouth, imitating musical instruments like a drum, snare, or bass, only to stop sharply and start reciting lyrics rapid fire. "Pops and Jen, spilling dough, pizza's shit, I ain't quit, gotta rep to hold, gat's gotta be bold, got hoes in line, to drink this wine."

"Jesus Christ," Jennifer said, and the look on my face was priceless. David was a fucking moron. Wendy returned to the table just as quickly as my verdict, but she wasn't waiting around for us to order.

"I call the cops. I sorry, but you got to go," she said, stepping back so we could get out of our seats.

"You a nasty bitch!" David said as Jennifer slid out and stood up.

"You a fuck-fuck modder fucker!" Wendy shouted at him. "You never come back. I don't care if the president bring you in to make fuck-fuck in the boom-tang!" Wendy shouted, and then, she threw a glass of ice-water at David, almost hitting him.

"Oh shit!" Jennifer shouted, ducking out of the way.

The water splashed down in the seat where David had been sitting, and he lunged at Wendy, wildly swinging at her. Luckily, I stepped in front of the waitress, caught him under the arms, and pushed him back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked him, way too seriously.

"What the fuck? Who the fuck are you, gettin' in my way?" David asked, bowing his chest out at me.

"I'm Jennifer's dad," I said, as if the fact had slipped his mind.

"So?" David said, slapping his hands together. "You ain't shit. I might be banging your daughter, but that don't mean I can't drop that shit like a bad habit."

I cocked my head to the side, not liking the way he was talking. Not to me, and not about my daughter. But I had to be the adult here. I was an adult. I was well respected at work and around town. I never caused any trouble. Not even a ripple.

"You owe them money," I said, trying to reason with him.

"I ain't owe them shit!" David said, swearing and throwing his hands as if throwing something at the waitress.

"That mean you owe, fuck-tard boy!" Wendy shouted. "You come back and my husband take da money out of your asshole!"

"What did you say bitch!?" David swore, trying to get at her again, but again, I stepped in front of him and blocked his assault.

"My husband, his brudder, my nephew, even my ninety-two year old grand-fadder, they all take turns fucking you in da ass! We take da money, and then, you disappear! Fuck-fuck boi!"

"I'm going to fuck you up!" David shouted, but Jennifer turned toward the window suddenly, as if she'd seen something.

"The cops are here," I said.

"I ain't scared of the cops!" David said threateningly. "I ain't done nothing wrong!"

Wendy, clearly feeling protected by my actions, became even bolder with her words, and started using the "N" word in her insults, and I was afraid that even I wouldn't be able to hold David back much longer, so I pushed him back, grabbing him under the arms and almost had to carry him out of the restaurant.

"Man that bitch-" David continued, looking as if all he wanted to do was rush back inside and start tearing up the place.

"Leave it alone," I said, trying to calm him down, even though I had no idea if what I was saying was something that would work on him or not.

"Leave it alone?" David questioned me, looking up and down the cold bleak road before turning back to me. "Leave it alone? Why? Cause you told me to?"

"No. Because it's the right thing to do," I said.

"Says who?" David shouted.

"Calm down," Jennifer said, reaching over and putting her hands on David's left arm. "Let's just go."

"Get the fuck off me!" David shouted, ripping his arm out of Jennifer's grasp. "I ain't need you to tell me what to do neither! Fucking chocolate filled oro-hoe," David said.

Jennifer's face turned beet red, and I could tell David had stepped across a line. More likely, he had just jumped off a cliff, but time had a way of repairing things that were said to be irreparable.

"You can stay here," I said calmly, "and do whatever you want, or we can all leave."

David took another look up and down the street, and then, I thought I heard the faintest sound of police sirens in the distance. The look in David's eye told me he was still itching for a fight, but not with the cops. I gave him a way out then. I glanced at my wrist watch.

"I have to be back at work in thirty-five minutes. That gives me enough time to get to the burger joint at the end of the street, order, and meet you in the parking lot." I leaned over and looked at Jennifer standing behind David. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Jennifer said sullenly. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Okay," I said and I turned to David. "And what do you want?"

"No pickles," David said. "Two doubles. Extra cheese."

"Got it," I said, heading for my truck.

"Hey, uh, gimme a meal for the first one. Extra large fry and a root-beer!"

I nodded and then climbed into my truck before turning my head as if checking for traffic behind me, and swearing to god I was going to kill this mother-fucker if he did another thing to disrespect my daughter.

As I got onto the road, I gunned the accelerator, spinning the wheels violently, and fish-tailing down the street before letting off the gas, just in time for the cops to come around the end of the street.

I continued to seethe, pissed off beyond anything I'd felt before, so much so that I could barely get the order out of my mouth. When I got to the window, Cathy, the girl who had worked there for the past five years, asked me what was going on. I never came by to order, unless it was a special occasion, and as far as she could remember, this wasn't Jennifer's birthday. I shook my head and just said "it's personal" and Cathy nodded, taking my money.

I'd known Cathy a long time. She was mother to one of the girls who'd gone to school with Jennifer, but when everyone graduated, her daughter had gone off to college in New Hampshire, found a job, and hadn't been back since.

"You know, just because Casey is off at college, doesn't mean the two of you can't come by and say "hi" every now and again."

A thought occurred to me then. It was a selfish thought, a bad idea, but, I was eager to test the information I had recently obtained about my status as a "hot-dad" so I decided to try it out. I assumed a facial expression that I thought was a mix of handsome and sexy, and then raised an eyebrow at Cathy.

"Are you okay?" She asked, handing me back my change. "Do you need to come in and use the men's room?"

"Hah. No," I said, shaking my head. "I was going to ask you..."

"What?" Cathy asked curiously.

"If you were just trying to get me to come over, or if you really missed Jennifer," I said.

Cathy's face turned red and then she waved a plastic information sign in front of her face, as if cooling herself off. "Well, I haven't seen Jennifer in a while, but I wouldn't say no if you wanted to come over and sip some moonshine with me."

"Moonshine?" I asked, nodding. "Home made?"

"Nuthin' better," Cathy said, raising an eyebrow back at me.

"I'll think about it," I said as Cathy handed me the bag full of food and the drink.

"Don't take too long thinking," Cathy said in a playful tone. "I might start and finish without you."

Her face turned a new shade of crimson and I nodded at her and then slowly pulled out of the drive-thru, my status confirmed. I was indeed, a hot-dad. Not only did that explain why most of the ladies in town treated me with a weird kind of ambivalence, especially the married ones, but the single ones were always doing nice things for me, or asking if there was anything else they could do for me. I never had a shortage of offers from single ladies in the community when Jennifer was growing up. Everyone seemed eager to help out, even if I couldn't pay them. Now I knew they were all just hoping to get an eye full. I was man-candy. A deadly combination of dad and...something else.

A pair of knuckles rapped on my window, startling me from my self-induced stupor. I turned, saw David standing there, and rolled down the window.

"Hand me the drink first," David said and I noted that he didn't ask, but told me what to do. I complied, handing him the root-beer, and then handing over the entire bag of food. "Are we straight?" David asked.

"Yup," I said, nodding. "Perfectly straight."

"Alright, yo, I'll catch ya later."

"Later," I said, and I watched in silence as David got back into the car with Jennifer, and the two of them drove off, heading back toward the grocery store.

I decided then, I needed to have a talk with Jennifer when she got home. There was no way I was going to let this asshole, integrate himself into her life, any more than he was already. In fact, I decided right then, I was going to do everything I could, to carve his ass out of her life, like a virulent cancer.

I was so distraught that, without realizing it, I had started on my way home, only realizing it ten minutes later, that this was only lunch, and I had an entire second half of a the work day to finish. I spun the truck around and headed back as quickly as I could and I was relieved to make it back, punching back in, with fifteen seconds to spare.

"Cutting it close!" Kendra said to me, smiling as I put my time card back in it's slot.

"Yeah," I said sheepishly, and then, I felt a tingle that I hadn't felt before. I looked up to see Kendra was still smiling at me. "Hey, I've been wanting to ask you a question?"

"Okay," Kendra said, slowly walking over to stand a few inches away from me.

"Well, I was wondering, have they changed the rules here about coworkers having intimate relations with each other?"

Kendra blinked and then looked me up and down, and then stepped back from me. "No...why?"

"Oh, uh," I said, my mind a whirly-gig of confusion. "I, uh...was going to see if a friend of my daughter's could get a job here. Something small. Just like a starting position."

"You're having intimate relations with her?" Kendra asked.

"No! Jesus Christ, no," I said, fumbling my words. "No. But I feel like she'd related to me now. You know? I don't want to rock the boat."

"Good idea," Kendra said, slowly turning and taking two steps before turning around. "I thought for a second, when you said you wanted to ask me a question, that you were going to ask me out."

"Oh. Heh. Well, no. No. That would be inappropriate," I said, realizing she was assuming the stuffy, strict-rule abider stance. "Nope. Not trying to break the rules," I said with a smile.

Kendra gave me a tight-lipped smile and then sauntered away, her hips swinging too and fro, her ass contained in the tight blue one piece she was wearing. I'd never realized just how hot she was, until this very moment. It was as if I'd overlooked her for the past...I don't know...twenty years?

I swallowed then, realizing I had overlooked her, and the reason I had overlooked her was, she was a teenager when my wife had left Jennifer and I. By the time I had my head half-way screwed back on, Jennifer was a teenager, and Kendra was climbing the company ladder, working her way to the spot she was in now, which was director of operations and assistant to the regional manager. If I'd been more career orientated, I might have had her position, and she might have been my assistant. But the cards hadn't been played that way, or at least, I hadn't played the hand I was dealt, that way.

When the day was finally done, I hurried back to the time clock, eager to punch out and head home. I had a lot to say to Jennifer, and my plan was to have a long sit down conversation with her, not to try and force her to do anything, but to hopefully explain why I thought David wasn't the guy for her.

As I was walking out to the truck, I heard someone calling my name, and when I turned back, I saw a co-worker of mine, waving something in the air. They pointed to my pocket, and I hurried back, thinking I'd dropped something. My wallet maybe? Or maybe it was some money?

"This fell off your punch card," Manny said, handing me a tiny manila envelope. It felt heavy, as if it had a quarter inside, or a silver-dollar.

I took it from him and turned it over, looking for some sort of indicator on it, and I saw it had my name on it, and nothing else. "Thanks," I said, tucking the envelope into my shirt pocket.

"No problem," Manny said.

I was back in my truck and halfway home before I thought about the little envelope again, and I slipped my fingers into my pocket and fished it out, while trying to keep my eyes on the road. I held the envelope and the wheel at the same time, and slowly, meticulously, peeled the seal open and then glanced inside.

I stuck my pointer and middle fingers inside the envelope, and grabbed the two items there, pulling them out. One was a single brass key with a three digit number punched right below the hole. The other was a folded up piece of paper.

"What the heck?" I asked myself, slowly unfolding the paper. As soon as it was fully opened, I had to slow down to keep my eyes on the road. When I realized I was doing a piss-poor job of it, I pulled over and then took a moment before reading the letter, start to finish.

The letter read:

Rick. You're a nice guy. Too nice.

Way too nice.

Way too good looking too.

God. Why did you have to say hi to me today?

Of all the days, you picked today.

You really know how to throw a girl for a loop.

Anyway...

I've been fantasizing about having you between my legs,

since I was old enough to suck and fuck.

Maybe a little bit before then.

I want you to know,

I do not approve of inter-company relationships.

That would be unprofessional. Uncalled for.

With that being said,

This is the key to my executive apartment.

923 Hillshire Drive.

The apartment number is on the key.

The code to get in the gate is 3478.

I like surprises.

If you ever get the urge to drop by,

or you want to make a girl's fantasies cum true,

just pay me a visit.

I usually stay home on the weekends,

lying in bed, or the bathtub, touching myself....

Thinking of you.

------------ K.

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" I said, reading the letter a second and then a third time. Was she real? Was she being serious? I looked in the mirror, and saw a hill-billy red-neck blue-collar asshole, a single dad who spent all his free time doing stupid shit like watching movies and playing board games with his daughter. I was the ultimate home-boy. I never went out. I never drank. I didn't even know the names of the local bars. Not really. I certainly had never stepped foot in any of them.

I folded the letter up quickly and stuffed it back in the tiny envelope, along with the key. I opened the glove-box, and then thought better of that. Someone might find it there easily enough. I reached under my seat, found the springs in the underside of the cushion, and tucked the envelope between a spring and th cushion. With the little packet of information secured out of the way, I put the truck in drive, and headed home. When I got there, Jennifer was sitting in her car, waiting for me.

"What happened?" Jennifer asked as I got out of my truck and locked the doors.

"Huh?" I asked.

"I saw you pulled over on the side of the road," Jennifer said. "Did you break down?"

"Oh, that? No. I, uh, well, I was trying to think of what I was gonna say."

"Say?" Jennifer asked.

"Can we go inside?" I asked.

"Can we stay right here?" Jennifer asked, glancing at the door.

She didn't want Mackenzie to find out what happened. I nodded and pulled my hat a bit tighter on my head. The wind decided right then, to pick up.

"I...I'm not sure he's the right guy for you," I said softly.

Jennifer ran to me and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. She buried her face against the zipper of my jacket, and started talking, but I couldn't hear a word she was saying.

"Hold on. Hold on, I can't hear what you're saying," I said, reaching down and tilting her face up.

"I said, he's a fucking idiot," Jennifer said. " Don't know what I ever saw in him!"

"Well, maybe it was just...something different."

"I don't want something different," she said, hugging me tight. "I want...like...you," she said, her words broken and swept away by the wind.

"Well, there aren't many out there like me," I said with a chuckle.

"No, there aren't," Jennifer said, looking up at me with innocent eyes. "I'm sorry daddy."

"No. Don't be sorry. Part of being an adult is messing up, but learning from your mistakes. The only person you have to answer to, is yourself. If you feel you have to change things, then you change them. Don't change them for anyone else, unless that's what you want to do."

"I love you daddy," Jennifer said then, hugging me even tighter.

"I love you too," I said, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight against the strengthening wind.

"Are you guys coming inside!!?" Mackenzie yelled from the doorway, and Jennifer pulled away, looking up and smiling at me.