Time With my Father.

As soon as dinner was done Dad asked, “Do you think I can leave you lovely ladies to clean up? I need to have a shower, I still smell of work.”

Mom smiled and agreed and so shortly afterward Mom and I were having a casual conversation while we rinsed the dishes and packed the dishwasher.

Dad was out of the shower, wearing his satin robe as was normal, before we were done and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table, “Do you want to finish that bottle of wine dear?” He asked Mom.

“Please, I haven’t been sleeping well so I might have one last drink in bed with a book.” He poured her the glass and excused himself to the den, telling me he would see me in a minute.

When we were almost done with the dishes I told Mom she could head to bed and I would finish stacking the dishwasher, she thanked me and made me promise to not keep day up all night as last week he was a bit out of sorts. I laughed and promised to send him to bed soon.

When I was done I had a big glass of water before heading to the den, I did not want to have the kind of hang over I did the week before. I grabbed my handbag and then at the door I unzipped the zips at my thighs, and half undid the one in the front of the dress, it was much more revealing but still not unreasonable. Opening the den door I found Dad sitting in the two person lounge chair, rather then the armchairs I was accustomed to. He already had a whiskey in his hand and raised the glass as I came in.

I took a seat beside him and we started chatting, mainly about nonsense stuff before he looked at me and smiled, “You bought a good whiskey, you obviously do know what I like.” I laughed and sipped some more, wondering if that was again a pointed comment or not.

Don’t get me wrong, I am used to flirting, but I am not used to flirting with my father, so everything I thought of as flirting I was second guessing.

“It’s nice,” I said, “Soft on the tongue.” And then blushed at what I had said. “So, Mom’s away next week? Pizza and a movie instead of dinner at the table?”

He smiled back at me, “There’s a game on next week.” He said, Dad and I used to watch sport regularly together when I was younger, but since moving out it happened less and less.

“Ooh, really?” We spent the next little while talking about our teams and their prospects and laughing at the failures of the season, for a while everything was normal.