When You Least Expect It

"This is kind of creepy." Her voice startled me.

"I'm sorry, I never had a daughter before," I said. "I want to look at her. I'm so sorry I never got to watch you sleep when you were a baby. I've got twenty years of catching up on watching you to do. You better get used to it."

She smiled a sleepy smile and her eyes cracked open. A green fire peeped out and she stretched like a kitten waking up from a nap. "Your daughter needs a shower and to be fed," she yawned. "I don't have anything clean to wear."

"I'll get you something. Don't move," I told her.

I went in and found a robe, a long t-shirt some past lover had left behind. I remembered that she slept in it, and rummaged around in a drawer of things women had left over the years. I found a new pair of panties, still in the package. They looked like they might fit. I got some gym shorts, another t-shirt to wear with it and some flip flops.

She opened her eyes when I came back in. She took the stuff and looked through it. One eyebrow rose at the package with the panties in it.

"Don't ask," I told her.

"Well, I don't think I'll take you on as a fashion guru, but this will do," she said.

"There's a bathroom next door on the right," I said. "My shower is bigger if you want to use it."

"Shoo," she waved her hand at me. "Go make food."

She came out in the robe, padded barefoot down the hall to my room and I heard the shower running. I rummaged around for things to eat. I scrambled eggs and cooked bacon. I had three different kinds of melon and I cut it up and stuck it in the refrigerator for after. She came out in the long t-shirt, fluffing her hair with a towel.

"Your feminine products need a little work," she grinned at me. Interesting things were going on inside that t-shirt as she fluffed up her mane. She obviously hadn't put on the bra from the day before and her nipples were erect, attempting to tear out of her shirt. Her breasts bounced and jiggled in there and they looked even bigger. The t-shirt was a little tight and it stretched over that amazing butt when she turned and threw her towel at the hamper, showing the line of her panties and a lot of everything else.

She turned and caught me looking. I blushed and she smiled. "Are we going to have a problem here?" she asked.

"God, you're beautiful," I told her. The smile got wider.

"You're my dad," she said. "It's obligatory for you to say that." She came and sat down at the bar and I filled our plates. I had made coffee and I sat down beside her. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Let's check into that 'Dad' thing," I said. I fired up my laptop and we started searching. It wasn't good, at least not for Alicia. It turns out that you can't get a DNA sample from hair, unless the roots are attached. I was fairly certain that my parents hadn't jerked any hair out by the roots during my first haircut.

Big tears were rolling down Buckley's cheeks. "She lied." Her voice was breaking and I hugged her tightly.

"She did about the test. It's still possible. There's only one way to find out."

"How?" she asked.

"Get the test done for real," I said. "Buckley, what are your plans?"

"Well, they kind of went to shit last night," she smiled again. "I'm at loose ends."

"Do you think you might like to spend some time with me and let me get to know you?" I asked.

"Maybe," she said. "What did you have in mind?"

"I have a trip to make in two days. I'm delivering a load of farm machinery back in the interior. You could ride along with me. We obviously need to go shopping. What do you think? Hang out with the old man for a few days?"

"I think I'd like that," she said. "Even if you aren't my father, you were married to my mother and I'd like to get to know you. I don't have a lot of money, though. I have a ticket back home. It's open ended and I can go any time. After I paid those thugs to beat you up, I'm kind of strapped. Do you think I could get a job here?"

"I'll give you a job," I said.

"Doing what?" she asked.

"You'd be a big hit serving drinks and food at the bar," I said. "If you don't like the sound of that, you could work for me down at the warehouse. I need help in shipping and receiving. You good at paperwork?"

"I don't know," she said, "but I'm a good waitress. How rough is your bar?"

"Very," I told her. "This is a rough place, but the guys will look out for you. Maria's been working there for three years and there hasn't been any trouble they couldn't handle. I trust them."

"Maybe I'll do that," she said. "I'll think about it."

I got the bowl of melon out and we dug in. When we had polished it off she went in and changed. I took her out into the garage and she started jumping up and down. "Oh my God," she shrieked. "What is that?"

I looked around for a spider or something. "What is it, Buckley?"

"That car! I love it; what is it?"

"It's a 1932 Model 18 Deluxe Coupe," I said. "It's called a Deuce. You want to drive it?"

"Hell, yes," she was practically drooling. "What's in it?" she asked. "Please don't tell me it's one of those lame-ass 302s."

"No, I don't care for that engine much," I told her. "They put them in the Mustangs, but they would break in half over 500 horsepower. This was a Windsor 351. It's a stroker and it's a 408 making about 540 horsepower and 575 ft/lbs. of torque. Is my little girl a gear head?"

"I love hot rods," she snatched the keys out of my hand. She took a minute to figure out that there were no door handles, but she hit the remote and the doors popped open. We jumped in and she fired it up. The rumble filled the garage and she was like a kid in a candy store. Her eyes were flashing and all that hair flew around and she was adorable. She saw the nitrous switch and squealed. "I've got to try that!" She could hardly wait.

She backed out and smoked the tires heading down the street. I buckled her seatbelt and put mine on, too. She laughed. "Nervous, Dad?"

"Terrified," I told her. She was really a very good driver. You don't just go to the mall or someplace like Walmart in Costa Rica. Maybe in the big cities, but we have dress makers, tailors and shops in Playa Langosta. There are shops that have clothes already made up but no Macy's. Buckley was able to get a lot of stuff and I was happy to pay the bill. She loved the dresses, and that's mostly what she got. There were things like khaki shorts, hats to keep the sun off that beautiful skin and shoes. The one thing she couldn't find was bras.

"You may not have noticed, but I have really big tits," she said. "I need good support or they're going to be covering up my belly button in a few years."

Oh, I'd noticed all right, but I didn't think it would be good to mention. I told her we could order anything she needed but couldn't find off the internet; we'd just have to wait a couple of weeks to get it. "I think your belly button is safe for a couple of weeks," I told her.

That made her laugh and I wanted to say something else funny so I could hear it again. We took her stuff home and I helped her put it in her room. She ran me off and changed into some things that actually fit her. When she came out she had on a white cotton dress with red flowers and green vines embroidered on it and sandals. God, she was gorgeous. We went grocery shopping and picked up a lot of produce and fruit. I let her get stuff she would like to eat, and she mostly got seafood and chicken. We took the groceries home and we cooked dinner together.

Our dinner was done and we sat on the sofa. We were eating fresh pineapple for dessert, and I asked her a lot of questions. "What is this?" she asked. "Are you interrogating me?"

"I want to know all about you," I told her. "I know hardly anything. What are you going to do with your life? Do you want to go to school? What are you good at, what do you like to do, what are your hobbies? I need to know everything."

She smiled. "I hate school, but I'm good at it. I was second in my class in high school. I would like to go to college but I can't afford it. I would like to get a job doing something that helps people, like a nurse or a doctor or working with kids or something. I like hot rods and I'm a decent mechanic. I like horses and water, but I get sunburned easily." She looked at me pensively. "I want to ask you something and tell you something," she said.

"Shoot,' I speared a piece of pineapple.

"Can I stay here with you?" she asked. "Promise me. No matter what the test says, I want to stay here."

I nearly choked on the pineapple, and then I couldn't speak for a while. I just couldn't find the words, there was a huge lump in my throat and my mind was whirling. My voice was a croak when I finally got a sound out, and I had to clear my throat several times. "There's nothing in the world that would make me happier," I finally got out. "I may, or may not, be your father, but I'd like you to stay, anyway. I'll try very hard to earn your trust and I'll work like a dog for it. If you want to stay here provisionally, assuming I'm your father, there's nothing I'd like better than that. What was the thing you wanted to tell me?"

"Well, you remember last night when I was crying?" I nodded. "You held me and I... I... I really liked that a lot."

I was stunned again. I couldn't move. My mouth opened and closed but nothing came out.

"That was a hint," she peeked up at me.

I wrapped that little girl up in my arms and she snuggled in. She felt so warm and so delightful that I thought my heart would burst. I can't describe how that felt. Those of you with daughters know. They're magical creatures and holding her like that was the fulfillment of every dream I never even imagined I'd have, even if she wasn't mine. I held her, she held me and we whispered and she giggled and she was just my little girl. I don't know when we fell asleep but there was just the light from the kitchen on when I woke. She was resting with her head on my right arm. I couldn't feel it, but I didn't care. I used the left one to stroke her cheek.

"Hmm?" she murmured. She made a couple of cute little sounds and burrowed in closer. The next time I woke up it was just before daybreak, and she was still there. We were covered with a throw, and I knew that she must have awakened at some point and covered us. She hadn't left, though. My feet were up on a pillow on an ottoman and her head was on the arm of the sofa with her legs in my lap. I eased my arms behind her knees and around her shoulders and stood up. For the second night in a row I carried her to her bed. When I laid her down she peeked up at me. I started to straighten up and she caught my arm.

"No, stay and hold me," she breathed, pulling on me. I lay down on my back and she moved to lie half over me, pillowing her head on my chest and pulling the covers from the other side of the bed up over us. I drifted off holding her in my arms and I never wanted to be anywhere else.

It was late morning when I woke again and she was still there. I kissed her forehead and she mumbled something. I kissed her again and she stretched, yawning and smiling. "I could get used to this," she said. "I hate sleeping in my clothes, though. I feel grungy. You want to shower first or do you want me to?"

"I'll go," I told her. "You're a hot water piggy." She chuckled and I went and made myself human. I stuck my head in and told her I was running to the bakery. I got some pastries with strawberry and cream cheese in them and some chocolate milk. I didn't feel like cooking. She came out doing the hair fluffing thing and we ate. I took her down to the bar in the afternoon and introduced her to everyone. Maria took her under her wing right away and they chattered away in a corner. Maria spoke good English and Buckley knew a lot of Spanish. She'd taken classes all four years in high school, and I knew she'd be fine after practicing a while.

When she came back those green eyes were just glowing. "I think I'll take the job here," she said. "I really like Maria and I think we'll get along. She told me that a bunch of rough people come in, but your security guys handle it and once people find out I'm with you, no one will mess with me. Are you really that tough?"

I laughed. "No, but I have a reputation. I made an example out of the first couple of drunks who got out of hand, and that discouraged everyone else. It's more what people think than what they know. People think I'm a badass. Don't you think I look kind of mean?"

She giggled. "Well, I found out that you might not be that mean, but you've got mean looking guys working for you. I know this is the guy that carries me to bed and watches me sleep."

"Well, don't tell anyone that," I said. "If they find out, I'll have to break a few heads. Have you told anyone besides me that you're my daughter?"

"No, who would I tell?" she asked. "Why, are you ashamed of me?" The glint in her eyes told me she was poking me.

"Yeah, I don't want anyone to know I've got such an ugly kid," I told her. "Seriously though, I think it will be better if people just think you work for me. There's a kidnapping ring or two around. They mostly stick to the tourists, but with that hair, it's obvious you're not a local. People know I have a little money and they might use you to get at me."

She thought about that for a minute. "Okay, that makes sense," she said. "I'll just be Buckley and you'll be Benedict. How does that sound?"

"Ben, that's what everyone calls me. If you call me Ben around the house, we'll get used to it."

"How are we going to explain that I live with you?" she asked. She shot me a wicked grin. "I've got it. We can tell them we're lovers!" She gave that low chuckle I loved so much.

"Right," I said. "Like a smoking hot 20-something like you would be at all interested in an over-the-hill old guy. Everyone is going to believe that story!"

She eyed me speculatively. "I'm pretty sure they would. I think my girlfriends would go for you in a heartbeat. I wonder why Mom did what she did? I can't imagine what was going through her head, throwing you away like that. Why do you think she did it?"

I sighed. "I've asked myself that question a million times," I said. "I decided it didn't matter."

"I think it does," she said. "Wouldn't you like to know? Why do you keep asking yourself that question, if it doesn't matter? How long were you married?"

"Three years," I told her. "Yes, I would like to know, but in the end, it's just that she did it. I was curious, just for my own peace of mind, but I decided that no matter what she said, there was no way I was staying with her. I'm sure she had some sort of justification in her own mind, but it wouldn't have made any difference. If she was being raped, that's the only thing that would have made a difference. She went there voluntarily. No one grabbed her and dragged her off. She walked there under her own power. We were having a neighborhood barbeque and it spilled out over three backyards. She left our house and walked down there. Any other reason doesn't matter. It wasn't a slipup, or a drunken mistake. She was with four guys, Buckley. This was something she'd been doing. You don't go from a faithful wife to a gangbang slut in one afternoon."

She blushed a little, her cheeks taking on a beautiful pinkish hue. "No, I guess you're right. Ben, can we go home now? I want to think about this a little."

"Sure, honey, let's go." I offered her my hand and pulled her up. We walked out with my arm around her shoulders and hers around my waist.

The weeks flew by and I couldn't remember life without Buckley. She was working three to eleven at the bar and she was a huge hit. I think the business picked up ten percent just from men coming in to look at her. There are very few redheads in that part of the world, and she was something exotic. There were a few roving hands, but she seemed to handle the work with aplomb.

She went with me on a couple of delivery runs back into the hinterlands and it was exciting and fun as hell having her with me. She was so full of life and energy that everything around her just seemed to glow.

She started college in the fall. She was speaking Spanish like a native and doing well with her schoolwork. They had a veterinary school, and she was working hard to get in. Life was going well and there was only one thing that was bugging me. Was she my daughter, or not? She never mentioned taking the test, and I was afraid to bring it up.

If it turned out she wasn't, would she feel awkward about living with me? Would it fuck up our relationship? I was having more fun and excitement since she'd been with me than I'd had in the last 20 years, combined. She was just in love with life and I was in love with watching her. I knew it couldn't go on this way. Evidently, she felt it, too.

A week or so after my thoughts, I was sound asleep and something woke me. I could hear the soft sound of bare feet moving across the carpet toward the bed. I was just about to give my nocturnal visitor a well-placed kick, and then I smelled her. It was Buckley, the fresh girl smell and the floral shampoo she used. I didn't move as she came around the bed and knelt in front of me. I was lying on my side and she took something out of a baggie she was holding.

I felt soft cotton slip inside my mouth and realized what she was doing. She was getting a swab for DNA. She pulled it out and dropped it in the baggie.

"Buckley, all you had to do was ask," I said softly.

She gasped and stood up. She stood there for a moment and then she was running, out the door and down the hall. I heard her bedroom door close and then there was silence. I began to hear small sounds from the bedroom next door, and I soon realized that she was crying. My heart was breaking and I got up, pulled on some pajamas and walked down the hall.

I stopped at the door and I could hear her sobbing. I knocked softly and called, "Buckley, would it be all right if I came in?"

The sobbing quieted and the door opened. She had the lamp beside her bed on and it cast a dim glow across the room, allowing me to see those huge beautiful eyes, brimming with tears, and the glistening trails down over her high cheekbones. She looked up at me, so miserable and little and broken and I took her in my arms as she cried into my chest.

"I was so afraid," she choked out. "I was just going to get the test done and not tell you."

"Why?" I asked.

"I can't tell you," she said. "You'll hate me."

"That's impossible," I told her. "I love you, Buckley. That isn't going to change regardless of the test."

"Okay," she said. "I was going to drop it off at the lab at school tomorrow."

"How long do you think it will take?" I asked.

"The professor told me he'd have it for me by the time I came home," she said.

I just held her and we drifted off. It was a hell of a long day. I went to the warehouse and made a nuisance of myself until the boys ran me off, then I went to the bar and had a couple of beers and lunch. I felt useless, so I went home and worked out, then took a shower and sat, lost in my own thoughts.

What if she was my daughter? What would that change? Nothing, really, so that's what I was hoping for in the worst way. She would stay with me, I'd get to be around her and watch over her while her life developed. The question that played in my mind was what if she wasn't?

Would she still let me have a place in her life? Would she move away, maybe live at school? Would she still let me take care of her? I had no answers. I thought about praying, but I wasn't that big a hypocrite.

When I heard the Deuce pull into the garage, I knew it was show-time. I meant to stand up and meet her at the door, but I was paralyzed. I was too afraid to move. Big bad Ben was scared to death of what was coming. All the years of making myself feel nothing were gone, washed away in the flood that was Buckley. She filled my life and made me whole and that could all come crushing down in less than a minute. I felt the tears come and I was ashamed of my weakness.