Brent, Male, 34

	- Narrator, marketing manager, father of Orchid

	- Tan white skin, 5'10, 175lbs, shoulder-length curly brown hair

Orchid, Female, 13

	- Daughter of Brent

	- Pale white skin, 5'8, 140lbs, mid-back length nearly-black hair

The week that followed was a nightmare. For me and for Dahlia. My fiance faced yet more challenges as two coworkers left over a salary dispute, leaving that much more for her to do. The budget restrictions included hiring freezes which left no room for bringing in help. Rumors swirled that the department was soon to be completely overhauled and integrated into a broader division that offered a bigger budget but fewer overall employees.

I had just a few minutes during the week to talk to her. Sunday afternoon, I dropped off Orchid at the house, kissed her, and spent the next sixteen hours at the office with Jim and Anne, prioritizing our week and trying to figure out how the hell to cram weeks worth of work into seven days. It wasn't going to happen, but we managed to get a plan together that would create a summary transition with well-mapped resources ready for followup. If Mogoni wanted more than that, they were shit out of luck. They either had to extend the deadline, or they had to accept that we were exceptional at our job and it was a fucking miracle we would be capable of delivering so much in so little time.

By June 14th, the following Sunday, I'd blown past the 100 hours I'd expected. I slept in the office, sharing the floor with Jim and Anne, and even Margaret joined us a couple of nights. It was a real team effort, and by the time Margaret locked the door for the last time around 10pm Sunday night, we were so exhausted we all wanted to fall into a week-long sleep. Instead, Margaret convinced us to go have a drink together, one last time, to mark our success and look toward another life.

I gave Orchid a call. “Hey, Sweetie, how's the movie?” She had texted me to say she was ordering a pay-per-view film and wished I could be there to watch it with her. I'd texted her back 'last night of this, I promise.'

“It was ok. You didn't miss much. Just some boobs. I know you wouldn't have liked those.”

I quickly took my phone off speaker and checked to see if the others had heard. They were chatting to themselves and didn't hear my daughter mention 'boobs.' “Uh, great, hon. Listen. The four of us are going down to Dwayner's for a couple of beers to celebrate our careers and try to end this week on an up note. You want anything?”

“Can I go?”

“Um... Yeah, I suppose. You want to get out for a late nighter with us?”

“Yeah. Tired of being alone all week.”

“I know, Sweetie, I know. Get dressed, I'll swing by the house in a few minutes to pick you up.”

“K. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, Kitty.”

I let my former coworkers know my plans and headed the opposite direction toward my house. I was tired but ok to drive. The long hours would crash into me later, I knew, but I couldn't get much sleep. Orchid had a big day ahead on Monday. Her cast was due to be removed.

And $1.8 million was due to be dropped into my bank account.

It felt unreal. I understood a bit about what Dahlia felt. I'd worked hard all my life, every week giving my best, and I'd done well. But I'd never had the opportunities that that kind of cash would afford me. Oh, I couldn't really retire on it, but it gave me time to figure out the next thing. For a couple of years, I wanted no commitments unless the perfect situation came along. Until then, one-point-eight million dollars would take me a long ways towards enjoying time with the women I loved.

Orchid used her crutches like a pro after so many weeks. She looked stunning. A short, ruffled black skirt circled her thighs, the top thin and just classic enough not to reveal too much of her young breasts. But her cleavage showed through, and I felt myself growing hard at the sight of her. A bit of makeup blushed her cheeks, a soft pink lipstick framed her mouth. Hoop earrings, a thin silver necklace. She looked so grown up.

Orchid hopped in, almost carelessly, said, “thanks. Hope your friends don't mind if I come.”

“No problem. God, Orchid... you look fantastic. Just... gorgeous. Where'd that dress come from? I don't remember it.”

“Dahlia bought it for me. She told me to wear it the next time I went out somewhere with you. She thought you'd like it. So it looks ok on me?”

“Fuck... err... haha. I mean, no, seriously... Fuck yes it looks good on you. Sorry, that's just my reaction. You look amazing.”

I tried to focus on the road but regularly felt my eyes drawn to her legs. We talked a bit on the drive.

“Dad... so... this is the last day? Really, no more job? Just us again, like the summer when I was eight and Mom was in Belgium?”

“Better. Just us, and Dahlia and Lily when we can arrange that. This time, unlike that summer, there's gonna be a bit of cash in the bank. We have time and money. Help me decide how to spend some of it!”

She giggled and leaned her head back, said, “sounds fun.” She drew her good leg up to her chest, let her skirt bunch up, almost offering me a view between her thighs. She sounded almost sad when she spoke next. “I've really missed being with you this week.”

“I know, Sweetie. I miss it too. It felt good to cuddle up with you for a few hours though. I love that. You asleep, sliding in next to you... holding you as I fall asleep. Such a calming thing during this very stressful week.”

That brightened her. “Ok. Yeah, I know. Just... I want you to touch me again. I get the cast off tomorrow, and I... I've been thinking about being with you... fully. I want it so bad. I can't wait.”

I hadn't had the brain-space to consider that moment all week, and when her words sank in fully, I buzzed with excitement. My daughter still wanted to give me her virginity, and she wanted it soon. “Me too, Sweetie. I feel so special knowing that will happen for us. Hey, let's don't rush it, ok? I may need a day or two or three to recover from this week. I'm so tired I almost decided against heading out with Jim and the others. Don't rush it. I want it to be a great time for you, and I want to be at my best, you know?”

“Ok. I guess so. I can wait, I guess. Not easy, Dad. Not easy...”

“We'll get that cast off you tomorrow, and then we'll see, ok? No rush, just fun, ok?”

She agreed and we held hands as we pulled into the parking lot at Dwayner's Bar and Grille.

Inside was quiet, an hour until the place closed for the night. The tender was the only one we saw on duty as we walked in, and only a couple of tables were seated. He tried to be quick, but I saw his eyes linger briefly as my daughter walked by him. I couldn't blame him even as my 'Dad instincts' kicked in and made me want to kick his ass.

I laughed to myself, decided I had to get used to that. Orchid was a beautiful young woman. Woman! Not yet a woman, really, but certainly no girl, either. She was easy on the eyes, and the dress she wore screamed for attention. I had a hard time not staring, myself.

We found Jim, Anne, and Margaret at the table in the back corner and pulled up chairs to join them. I introduced Orchid to everyone and ordered a pint for me and a milkshake for my daughter.

Jim was already finishing his second beer when he ordered one more. Anne, too, was clearly loosing up with a whisky. Margaret was the only one who seemed unaffected by her drink or by the long week, a lovely, unusual smile on her face. She had always been the focused business woman, rarely smiling, even tempered though demanding. I never saw her outside of work, and it was a pleasant surprise to hear her welcome Orchid to the area and offer to buy everyone's drinks.

Margaret spoke up, said, “so, Brent. What now for you?”

I was too tired to sound terribly interested in answering in detail, though I meant well. “Dunno, really. Take a few months off to get Orchid settled in here. Maybe move. Maybe travel. Get married.”

Only Jim and Orchid knew of my relationship with Dahlia, and only my daughter knew how quickly I'd become serious with her. I downed my pint more quickly than anticipated, felt the buzz, and ordered a coffee. Orchid eyed me carefully over her milkshake. She knew I was looking to crawl into bed, and her bright eyes said she was hoping for more than I could deliver that night.

Congratulations went around, and Margaret offered up a round of shots. I didn't want anymore to drink and declined. Jim drank my shot and looked quite bleary eyed.

“Anne says she's taking a position in Baltimore in July.” Margaret cast looks at my former colleague that suggested she was sincere when she said, “sorry to see her leave, we've been such good friends!” That was news to me, and the way Anne looked at her sideways said they had very different definitions of 'good friends.'

“Congrats, Anne. Baltimore's great, have a second cousin there, haven't seen her in many years.”

“Visit any time, Brent. Would love to have you come up once I'm settled. Since my husband died, I've been missing the company of friends.” Her husband had been a piece of shit who regularly got featured in the mugshots section of the local online newspaper. When he died, Anne was already in the process of divorcing him. I suspected she had come to miss the guy, and the three years since, she had buried herself in work and forgotten to find companionship of any sort. Or so I assumed. I was really tired, and I found myself jumping to conclusions without thinking the situation through. It happened when I'd put in a week like the one I'd just had, and it was another sign that I should be heading home.

The conversation ran strong as everyone buzzed. Jim got a bit loud, disgusted by the way the Mogoni folks had pushed us that week, how they'd been so arrogant when they didn't like something. He wasn't wrong, but his attitude was dragging me down. He was silent a moment as he checked a text message, then excused himself to use the bathroom.

We were the only table in the place when the tender switched off the open sign and let us know they were closing for the night. I chatted just a moment with Anne about her future, and then I, too, went to the men's room.

The unmistakable sounds of heavy breathing, rhythmic movements hit my ears. I froze as the door closed quietly. In one of the two toilet stalls, door closed, I could see two sets of feet, pivoting legs moving back and forth quickly. I heard a grunt, a feminine moan, and it was clear a man was ejaculating.

I almost left, too tired to process it. I wasn't turned on, just surprised, and my weariness left my senses out of whack. I wished I'd left.

The door swung open and Jim hobbled out, his cock sticking out of his slacks, his fingers fumbling with the zipper. He didn't see me at first. As he tucked his penis away, he looked up. The waitress who'd served us slipped out, cum running down her leg from under her ruffled skirt. She panicked and ran from the room, shoving me aside as she did, the look of someone who believed she'd just lost her job painted on her face.

Jim said nothing a moment as I stared at him. He was married, a sweet, beautiful woman ten years younger than him. He had grown kids. In that instant I decided I'd never really liked Jim. It may have come from nowhere, but something about him that had always irked me. We worked well together, and rarely spent time outside of work. Seeing him stumble from the stall, his cock freshly pulled from the waitress's pussy, caused those feelings to dominate the way I saw him.

It wasn't fair, I realized much later. Again, I jumped to conclusions. I judged Jim immediately without considering there might be more to the story. I certainly hoped that someday, if anyone found out about me and my daughter, or Lily, they wouldn't be so quick to judge.

I exploded at him. “Jim, What the Fuck, man? Your wife!”

“Leave it be, Brent. This isn't your business. Leave it be.”

“Seriously? After that... what about your family?”

“I said leave it be, Brent. You don't know everything. Please, leave it...”

I stood speechless as he walked to the sink and washed his hands, dried them with a hand towel, and pushed past me to leave the room. I was shaking by the time the door closed. I knew I wasn't in a mental place to deal with the situation, and I slowly made my way to the urinal, drained my bladder, and washed up.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked old. I felt old that night. It had been a terribly long, stressful week. I exhaled, dunno how long I stood there.

A knock on the door was followed by Orchid's voice, “Dad? They're making us leave.”

“Ok, coming.”

I opened the door to my daughter's suddenly tired-looking face. I tried to smile, probably just managed a smirk. I touched her hand gripping a crutch, to the world an innocent gesture. It was innocent in that moment. I wanted nothing more than to feel my child's hand on mine, to have that comfort to bolster my weary, shattered nerves.

She smiled at me, and I felt a bit warm. I walked ahead of her as we set to leave. At the bar, Jim was arguing with the tender.

“I don't want a cab, I'm fine.”

“Sir, it's on the house. Already called him, he should be outside. Call them tomorrow for a ride to bring you back to get your car. Again, on us.”

“Why-you gotta d-dictate ma life? Ma life's notta yours to run.”

He sounded more drunk than in the bathroom, slurring, stuttering, clearly too far gone to drive. I felt relieved that a cab was waiting.

The tender cast me a tired look and I knew he was hoping for my help to get Jim to leave.

I didn't give it. I was done helping Jim. Our years together meant nothing in that moment, and I still feel guilty about the way I handled myself. I ignored the tender, and Jim, and left quickly to the sounds of my former coworker starting up the argument again. I knew before too long, it wouldn't be a cab waiting for Jim but a police car.

Anne and Margaret were pacing outside, concerned about Jim. Margaret blamed herself for ordering drinks. She asked me if she should offer to drive him home. I eyed the brightly-lit cab, my mood sour. “He's got a ride somewhere tonight, I'm don't know whether it is home or jail at this point. He's an adult, he can figure it out. Good night. Good...” I almost said 'riddance', “... luck.”

I helped Orchid sit in the car and in a moment we were back on the highway and heading home. I was concentrating on the road, using all my remaining brain space to get us to the house. Orchid wanted to talk.

“You ok, Dad?”

“Fine.”

“You don't look fine.”

“I'm fine. Long week. Gotta drive.”

I was at my limit physically. The beer had been more than enough to take me from safe to dangerous. I couldn't converse and drive at the same time. I downed my window and let the fresh, cool mountain air rush in.

Orchid grew quiet. She'd always known when to push an issue with me. She knew when to talk, when to shut up, when to listen and when to jump in. She always had good timing, and though she could be shy at times in conversation, I respected her awareness of social dynamics.

I was on fumes by the time we pulled into the drive. I sat a moment after I shut down the engine. Orchid got out of the car and onto her crutches, then leaned back in, looked at me, said quietly, “can I give you a hand, Dad? I'm getting pretty good on these things. You can lean on my shoulder.”

Like I said, timing. It hit me just right, my daughter's voice, her words. It was what I needed in that moment to break my mood. I exhaled, let out a long breath, smiled weakly at her. “No, just collecting my thoughts. Been a life-changing week for a lot of us, a lot to take in.”

“Ok. I'll wait for you at the door. Don't stay out here all night.”

“I'm coming.”

“K.”

“Thank you, Sweetie.”

“For what?”

“For being in my life, for loving me... I need that from you, and it's all I can do not to cry it makes me feel so good.”

She squinted at me, said with a half-grin, “jeez, Dad. Don't go all girly on me. I'm not into emos.” She laughed lightly, then straightened up, said seriously. “You're welcome. You've been there for me so much this year... just glad I can do anything that helps you.”

It was enough to will myself out of the car and to the door. We ducked inside, and all I wanted was the bed. Orchid followed me and shed her clothes. I was so tired the sight of her beautiful naked body slid by without me noticing. She flipped back the sheets as I stripped off my clothes and slid into bed next to her, stretching and sinking into the soft mattress.

She leaned her head on my chest and my arm moved on its own to wrap over her shoulder. I had one last thought before falling into a deep sleep. “Sorry I stink. I haven't showered since yesterday.”

“You don't stink,” Orchid whispered, “I like the way you smell. You smell like 'Dad.'”

It was the last thing I knew that night.