Birthday Present From My Daughter’s Best Friend

I was finally able to close the book on a particularly stressful week, sighing gratefully as I stepped through my front door to the sound of pop music and girlish giggling coming from the kitchen. The music, I could live without; I’m more of a rock and metal guy, myself. But was there any sweeter sound than young girls giggling? I took off my hat and gloves, my heavy winter coat and shoes, and went to say hello. My daughter, Olivia, and her best friend Charlotte were a study in contrasts. Livy was tall, dark haired, slender and busty, just like her mom had been; Charlie was tiny, petite and blonde, and looked like she was about four years younger, though she was actually the older of the pair by a couple of weeks. I could hardly believe they were both eighteen now, adults, about to graduate high school in just a few more short months.

“Hi there, girls,” I greeted them, smiling and shaking my head as I took in the mess they’d made. “What have we here?”

“Hi, Dad!” Livy replied, bouncing over to me from the stove and throwing her arms around my neck, kissing my cheek. “We decided we’re going to make you supper, tonight, for your birthday. Charlie even helped me bake a cake!”

“Awww… thanks, girls!” I said, squeezing her in my arms and returning her kiss. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“We wanted to,” Charlie blushed. She’d always been very much the shyer of the two, and although of course I’d never acknowledged it, not wanting to embarrass the poor girl, I knew she’d had a harmless little crush on me for as long as I could remember. “It isn’t much of a present, but happy birthday, Mr. H..”

“Well, thank you, both of you, it means a lot,” I told them. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope, all set!” Livy giggled. “It’ll be maybe another fifteen, twenty minutes, something like that. You just go watch tv or something for a bit, we’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed, giving her one more squeeze and a kiss, and leaving the pair of them to their work.

The television, predictably, offered nothing of interest. I left the news on in the background and checked my phone instead, grimacing at what I saw. How was it that even during just the length of my commute, I could still have received four new emails awaiting my urgent attention? I loved my job, really I did (I told myself that regularly, especially at times like this). It just got to me sometimes, how no one seemed capable of making an actual decision about anything without passing it up the chain to me. Did I really care that the company who stocked the vending machines in the break room wanted my permission to switch from coming in every second Tuesday, to every second Thursday, instead? Some things, sure, some things needed my involvement, and I would be more than annoyed if anyone tried to cut me out of a decision that should have come to me. But could the employee who had taken the call from the vending machine people really not have just said yes to that one on their own, and sent me a memo fait accompli? I composed a quick affirmative response, and moved on to the next. I shouldn’t complain. My job paid well—almost too well, honestly, though of course I would never admit that to another living soul. For a widower with a young daughter, needing to pay for nannies, and the near constant stream of new activities Livy had wanted to try growing up, that had been important. It was just a lot sometimes, that was all.

I’d gotten through three out of the four—five now, actually, since another email had just arrived—before Charlie came to collect me. Livy was just heaping supper out onto our plates, delicious looking homemade chicken fried rice, with Caesar salad on the side.

“This looks and smells delicious, girls, thank you again!” I complimented them, making them smile proudly as we all took our places at the table.

“You’re welcome, Dad,” Livy replied for them both, reaching over to give me a squeeze on my wrist. “How was work today?”

“Ugh, annoying and boring as always,” I dismissed the question with a wave of my hand. “Tell me about school, instead.”

Livy launched in right away, as always occasionally prompting Charlie to get her to tell her version of events, as well. I swear, if it hadn’t been for Livy pushing her all these years, I don’t know if Charlie ever would have overcome her shyness enough to speak to me at all. The two of them had been completely inseparable ever since kindergarten, almost joined at the hip. I wasn’t sure if the girls knew this or not, but Charlie’s parents had gone to all three of the school principals they’d had over the years, making especially sure the girls would always be in the same classes. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew Charlie had been seeing a therapist when she was younger, to try to help with her shyness, and after he’d finally gotten her to open up enough to talk about ‘her friend’ (her only friend, as far as Charlie had been concerned) he’d been the one to suggest the arrangement. Someone who hadn’t known her back then would be hard pressed to believe it, meeting her now, but the improvement in her confidence over the years had been incredible! At the end of middle school, when the girls had been planning which options to take the following year, Charlie had even said she didn’t want to take outdoor ed. and sports medicine with Livy, but wanted to take cooking and sewing, instead! Culinary arts and fashion and design, I think is what they were actually called nowadays, but cooking and sewing were what they were. Now, I know that might not sound like much to you or me, but the fact that Charlie had been able to speak up for what she wanted like that, even at the expense of not being with Livy for those classes, had brought her parents to tears! I may have shed one or two myself, if I was being honest; Charlie spent so much time over at our house, I thought of her almost as if she were my own.

Dessert was every bit as good as the meal, a rich chocolate cake with thick chocolate icing. And it turned out they’d even made it from scratch, not a mix, which explained the mess! I was suitably impressed, Charlie’s blush mounting to truly epic proportions. She tried to deflect credit, saying Livy had done just as much work as she had, but we all knew who the brains of the operation had been. I loved my daughter more than life itself, but I swear that girl could burn boiling water! Birthday or not, I wouldn’t let them stop me from helping clean up. And it wasn’t just because I was using it as an excuse to avoid going back to my email, I swear! But whatever my ulterior motives, it was just so much fun hanging out and working with them both, talking and joking around, flicking each other with water from our fingers. Charlie even bumped up against my side a couple of times, which from her was pretty much the equivalent of a full-on hug.

Livy asked if we could make it a movie night, to which I readily agreed. But unlike all the other nights when we’d done the same, the girls sat themselves on opposite sides of the couch. Charlie was blushing again, so I decided I’d better not draw attention to it, and just sat between them like they wanted. Their motivation became clear when Livy started the film; a horror, I really should have guessed. I’d never really cared for them, and to my knowledge neither did Charlie, but Livy was a fan. She snuggled in close before the opening credits had even ended, and I wrapped her in my arm, holding her tight to my side. I was careful to let Charlie make the first move, but after the first grisly death, when she gasped and sidled closer in fear, I raised my arm to the back of the couch. She took the invitation, snuggling just as close as Livy had, and I held her just as tight. At death number two, she grabbed at my thigh—and got a lot more than she’d been bargaining for, the proximity of two such beautiful young girls having caused the predictable anatomic effect. She jerked her hand back as if she’d been burned, blushing again, mouth gaping open as she prepared to apologize—I cut her off with a squeeze, an understanding smile, and a rub on her arm, silently reassuring her that it was okay, that I knew she hadn’t grabbed me there on purpose. She settled back down, still blushing brilliantly, but making certain to only grab her own thigh from then on.

The second movie, another horror, proceeded in much the same way. This one’s plot and acting were even worse than the first, but the girls didn’t seem to care, and I was just enjoying their reactions to it, not the movie itself. It was definitely time for bed once it was done, and I got another big hug and a kiss on my cheek from Livy, then a big hug from Charlie as well. I tried not to show my surprise, just holding her and gently rubbing her back. She wished me a quiet ‘happy birthday’, and I could tell it was costing her a concerted effort not to let herself literally run away from me afterwards as she and Livy headed up the stairs to get ready for bed.

I sat back down on the couch, wanting to give them their space, and trying to dissect the meaning of what had just happened. It was probably nothing, I eventually concluded. Or at least, nothing I needed to worry about. Another step in Charlie’s years-long battle with her shyness, maybe; something to be celebrated, not concerned over. I was listening in upstairs, not for voices, which I couldn’t make out anyways, but just for the sound of doors closing so I would know when it was time for me to head up as well. Which is why I was so surprised, after hearing Livy’s door and rising to my feet, to see Charlie standing nervously at the foot of the stairs, still wearing her jeans and t-shirt, not one of the oversized sleepshirts she and Livy always wore to bed.

“Charlie?” I asked in concern. “Is something wrong?”

She bit her lip, shaking her head, slowly coming closer, her eyes focused on a spot in the center of my chest. I’d often wondered if Charlie might be just a little bit autistic, direct eye contact being so difficult for her, but as she came within arm’s reach she forced herself to meet my gaze.

“I…” she hemmed, speaking so quietly I could barely hear her. “I… wanted to give you a birthday present. If you’ll let me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I smiled, shaking my head. “And you already did, anyways! Supper was delicious, and you can’t tell me Livy was doing anything but following your instructions making it! That was already much more than I ever expected or needed. But if you’re really determined you want to give me something else, you certainly don’t have to ask my permission, first.”

“No, I do…” she shook her head, taking a deep, steadying breath, then slowly reaching up, placing her small, delicate little hand on the back of my neck. “For this!” She stretched up onto her toes, pulling me gently down towards her, pursing her lips, her beautiful blue eyes fluttering closed. I could hardly believe what she was doing… but I didn’t stop her, meeting her lips in a soft, slow kiss, my hands finding her hips. She was so gentle, and sweet… she pulled away slowly, opening her eyes again, staring nervously into mine.

“That was my present?” I asked almost breathlessly. We hadn’t been making out, hadn’t been doing anything that would explain my sudden lack of air, but that didn’t matter.

“No,” she shook her head, biting her lip, as excited and out of breath as I was. “That was just the bow. To get your real present… you have to unwrap me, first!”

My eyes widened, hardly able to believe what she seemed to be implying. I glanced at the stairs, my question obvious to her before I’d even thought to ask it.

“Livy knows,” she confirmed, blushing brighter and glancing down at my chest again. “She’s in her room with her head buried under her pillows right now, because she doesn’t want to actually hear any of it… but she knows what I was planning to ask you tonight. She’s okay with it.”

“Really?” I gasped, trying to adjust to this new, entirely unexpected information, considering what it meant. “And… are you certain that you are really okay with it?”

“You know I’m eighteen, now. It’s okay. You won’t get in trouble, or anything,” she said, which was absolutely not an answer to my question. I reached up, slowly lifting her chin.

“Are you sure about this? Absolutely, one hundred percent sure?” I demanded.

She glanced around, biting her lip, unwilling to fight against my finger under her chin, but doing anything but looking me in my eyes. Finally she did, and it was like lightning struck.

“I… I’m in love with you!” she gasped, her words tumbling out like the flood from a breaking dam. “I’ve been in love with you! You have no idea! I’ve never been so sure about anything in my entire life! I… I know this might be weird for you, me being the same age as Livy, and everything… but please, just give me a chance, okay? It’s not like you’ve been dating anybody else, and I know I can be good for you! I… just please, give me a chance, okay? Let me show you how much I love you, how good I can be for you!”

I don’t think I’d ever heard her say so many words all in a row before. Certainly not to me! But looking into those soft, beautiful blue eyes, seeing her so completely overwhelmed by previously hidden emotion, the tears of vulnerability and hope welling… I could only imagine how difficult that had been for her, opening herself up like that, throwing her heart to the floor at my feet and just praying I would pick it up and hold it to my own, and not grind it to dust under my heel. So, what else could I do? I kissed her again. And after the initial moment of her surprise, this time it was anything but soft, or slow! She responded eagerly, almost desperately, moaning into my lips. For once in her young life, there was nothing shy about her! My hands roamed her back, she threw an arm around my neck, lifted her leg to wrap around mine. My hand went lower. She trembled at my touch, teasing at my lips with her tongue, sliding into my mouth. I grabbed her ass, hard, using both hands—God, she felt good!—so tight and small and round, just barely enough of her to even fill my grip! I lifted her, so I no longer had to bend down, and she wrapped her legs tightly around my waist, both arms around my neck.

“You know you can change your mind. You can tell me to stop at any time,” my conscience forced me to tell her, struggling to get the words out against her kisses.

“Shut up and take me up to your room already!” she moaned against my lips. Well… consent didn’t get much more emphatic than that!

I carried her through the house, and she flailed blindly at the switches for me, turning out the lights before I carried her up the stairs. My bedroom door was closed, and I pushed her against it, kissing her almost violently as I rubbed against her body; it took her three tries to remember how doorknobs worked, and I stepped quickly inside, nudging the door closed with my foot. It slapped against the frame much louder than I’d intended. Oh, well. It wasn’t like Livy didn’t already know what we were about to be doing anyways! My bedroom light was already off, and I didn’t change that; I could see well enough in the moonlight through my window, and I hoped Charlie would find it more romantic this way. I crawled up onto the bed, making her squeal adorably as I let us fall down together, bouncing slightly on the mattress. She reached between us and began fumbling with the buttons of my shirt. I had a much easier time with her t-shirt, though the fact that neither of us was willing to interrupt our kissing long enough to properly strip was certainly an impediment, if a thoroughly enjoyable one.