AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This story began as a collaboration between AshleyRaePublishing and SoShameless2001, but it’s published here by AshleyRae who did the bulk of the actual writing.
In the words of SoShameless himself, “Thank you to AshleyRae for taking the germ of an idea and giving me the daughter of my dreams.”
We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed creating it!
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The more miles they traveled, the more the tension level in the car grew. Scott had barely spoken since they stopped for lunch, and even then, he’d barely said a word to Claire, spending the time tapping away at his phone screen and smirking at something he was reading.
“Chatting with your boyfriends again?” she asked, her private joke for the hours her husband spent chatting with old college and workout buddies online.
“You know, that got old after about the 15th time you said it,” he replied, barely looking up.
“Sorry, but you spend half your day bullshitting with those guys,” Claire said.
“Here we go again,” Scott grumbled, and Claire just sighed and ate her salad.
They’d been arguing for weeks over this trip. Scott had wanted to spend the Christmas holiday at some Puerto Rican resort and resented that Claire wanted the traditional visit – fireplace, eggnog, presents with her mom and dad – instead a “a tropical paradise,” as he pompously called it.
“Christmas is for family, not jet skiing,” Claire had argued, back when he first mentioned it.
“My family will be there – just not your dear old daddy and mommy,” Scott said, with some venom in his voice.
“Your mother and her latest boyfriend are a poor excuse for family,” Claire muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” Scott asked.
“I didn’t say anything,” Claire replied, thinking of how horrible it would be to spend Christmas morning in a hotel suite with her harpy of a mother-in-law. “Plus, you’re always agreeing with my mom and doing whatever she wants to do so don’t pretend you don’t enjoy yourself.”
“That’s because she wants to do things, Claire,” Scott sighed, “she actually leaves the house unlike you and your dad. If going places with her gets me out then fine.”
Where to spend the holidays was just the latest in an increasing number of disagreements, if not outright arguments, between the two. Date nights had become group gatherings with Scott’s friends and their wives or girlfriends, pounding shots of Fireball like they were still in college. Sunday mornings that had once been spent in bed together, having coffee and talking were now Scott nursing a hangover from those shots. Dinner was him staring at his phone.
So now they found themselves just minutes from home – Claire’s home that is. She hadn’t seen her parents since early spring, and she missed her dad especially. She knew he’d probably be wearing some corny Santa hat or a light-up tie when he opened the door, and she could already imagine the smell of her mom’s Christmas cookies.
She’d debated talking to her dad about the situation but was determined to just put on a happy face for the holidays. While her dad wasn’t quite Clark Griswold, he was like a kid himself when it came to Christmas. He loved everything about it – the songs, the corny movies, decorating the tree. Claire was determined not to let her marital drama get in the way of his fun.
It was just starting to get dark when they rounded the last corner and there sat her childhood home, with trees all lit up and the goofy plastic Santa that had presided over the yard at Christmas time since she was 11-years-old. Her mom had tried to have it “retired” for years now, but always laughed when her dad made his “you just don’t love Christmas and the snowman like I do” joke and resigned herself to another year of the jolly old elf.
Her dad must have been standing at the window waiting for their arrival, because as soon as the headlights hit the driveway, the front door flew open and out he came. He had her car door opened practically before the car came to a complete stop.
“My baby!” he crowed, and Claire leapt into his arms like she was still in kindergarten.
“My daddy!” she yelled, as he spun her around.
Scott barely acknowledged the scene as he just popped the trunk and went around to start unloading their bags.
Her mom Susan shook her head, smiling, patiently waiting her turn to greet their daughter. Claire was a daddy’s girl through-and-through, always had been and always would be, and while she thought Brian indulged “his princess” a little more than necessary throughout her 25 years, she was just as excited to see her girl.
“Mom!” Claire shouted as soon as her father put her down. The two shared a long hug before Scott finally spoke.
“Hi, you guys, I guess she missed you,” he said, aiming for a joke but still managing to sound petulant.
Tom pulled his son-in-law into a “bro hug,” bursa escort and Susan kissed him on the cheek.
“We’ve missed you both,” Susan said. “Come on! Inside now! It’s freezing out here!”
The four stepped into the front room of Brian and Susan’s house, all of them happy to be out of the cold. Claire took stock of the front room that housed so many memories, relishing that she got to be home for christmas. The holiday was only three days away, and she wanted as much time with her parents, primarily her dad, as she possibly could.
“How was the drive?” her mother asked her as they made their way down the hall.
Claire wanted to tell her mother about the arguing and near silence with Scott, but didn’t want to ruin her day. Susan loved Scott, probably because he was always taking her up on offers to get out of the house. Instead, Claire smiled at her mom.
“It was pretty uneventful,” she said. “We just kept each other company for most of the drive.”
Scott glanced at her.
“What do you mean? You were quiet for most of the way here,” he whined. “I thought you were mad at me most of the time.”
Claire’s smile froze on her face. She had been trying to hide the fact they were having issues, and now her husband was not only deviating from her story, but made her out like she was the one at fault.
“Well I was very tired – that long of a drive can be quite exhausting,” she lied.
“Well if the two of you are tired then we should just call it an early evening and get some sleep,” Susan suggested.
“But not before you see the living room!” her dad interjected excidently.
Claire smiled at her father, the eagerness in her eyes showing clearly.
“I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with it this year!”
The four walked towards the back of the house and stepped into the spacious living room. Claire’s eyes lit up as she saw the decorations her family had arranged. The soaring ceilings had twinkle lights streaming down shining like rain above their heads. The fireplace was roaring in the corner, the mantle arranged with various holiday figurines and fake snow. But what really caught her eye was the massive tree next to the fireplace. Her family always had a real tree, and it was always big, but this one was huge. The tree held many traditional round ornaments, silver- and red-laced garland strung playfully, and small white lights that twinkled in Claire’s brown eyes as she looked to the top of the tree.
Her father followed her gaze.
“I know, no star up there yet,” he said. “The tree is actually so big that I can’t reach the top. Want to help me get it up there?”
Claire smiled and nodded but her mother intervened.
“Brian, the star is still in storage in the garage, and the kids are tired. Why don’t we let them get some sleep and we can take care of that tomorrow?”
“That sounds like a plan to me,” Scott said before the others could protest, “I could use a good night’s sleep.”
Claire’s face fell slightly, but brightened again as her dad caught her eye and winked.
“Well then tomorrow you get to help me put up the star like you did when you were little.”
Claire laughed softly.
“I’m still pretty little, I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” she replied, looking down at her own five-foot two inch frame.
Her father matched her soft laugh.
“Well luckily for us I’m still six-foot-three,” he said. “I could lift you as a newborn then, and I’m pretty sure I’m strong enough and tall enough to get you up to the top of the tree tomorrow.”
Claire smiled and said, “Alright, but I’m holding you to it – you owe me a star on that tree!”
Claire turned back to her mother to give her a hug goodnight.
“We will take our bags up to my old room, goodnight, Mom,” she said.
She turned to her dad as Scott gave her mother a hug goodnight.
“Sweet dreams, Dad. I’m so glad to be home,” she said leaning toward Brian.
Her father smiled as he leaned down to hug his daughter, her arms going around his neck as they held each other for a long moment.
“Me too, princess,” he said softly.
Susan and Brian sat on the couch next to the fireplace as Claire and Scott made their way up the stairs to Claire’s childhood bedroom. Claire struggled to get her bag up the stairs as she trailed behind Scott, who blithely ignored her.
She walked behind him into the bedroom she had grown up in. It was unchanged from the last time she had been there, with the exception of an Etch-a-Sketch laying on the pillow that said “Princess”. She smiled, knowing that her dad had probably spent way more time than he should have writing that message out.
Scott tossed his bag onto the floor and picked up the toy from the bed, giving Claire a sideways look as he placed it on the dresser.
“You and your dad, huh?”
Claire folded her arms.
“You and your friends, huh? I know you’re not tired.” she said. “You wanted to come up here to play poker on your laptop.”
Scott bursa escort bayan threw his arms up in frustration.
“I had to sit in the car watching them have fun all day when all I could do was text and listen to your lame-ass Christmas playlist,” he grumbled. “At least you got to drive to keep you busy.”
Claire rolled her eyes.
“Do you really not see the problem in what you just said? You spent the entire drive texting your buddies while you were ignoring your wife!”
“Oh please it’s not like you and I have the most engaging conversations anyway,” Scott said with a shake of his head. “We are around each other all the time. There’s nothing new to talk about.”
“That’s a bad excuse and you know it,” Claire said, getting more frustrated, “My dad raised me and was a part of every second of my life, and he still finds things to talk to me about.”
“Yea and maybe if you didn’t idolize your dad so much then you wouldn’t have suggested we need to go to therapy,” Scott snapped.
“And if you didn’t have everything handed to you by your mother then maybe you would know how to work on a relationship rather than buy one,” Claire retorted.
Scot waved his hand dismissively.
“Whatever! You’re the reason we’re stuck here and not on a beach somewhere,” he said angrily, walking into the adjoining bathroom and closing the door. Moments later, Claire heard the shower running.
“Well you’re the reason our marriage is failing,” Claire mumbled as she fell onto the bed.
These fights had become the norm now, and Claire was becoming more and more unhappy by the day. When they had met in college, Scott had been a loving and attentive boyfriend. He was still an idiot college student doing shots every night and partying, but he treated her well. Scott’s mom was a wealthy woman, and Scott had money to burn. He often bought her lavish gifts or expensive weekends, which she had enjoyed immensely. But looking back, Claire now realized that he had focused more on trying to win her love with gifts instead of actually fostering a relationship.
She debated waiting for him to finish showering so she could get clean, but decided she could shower in the morning. She rose from the bed and began to move her clothes from her bag into the dresser. She had tried to get Scott into marital counseling, and when he refused her outright, she chose to see a therapist by herself. Claire had begun to think that there was something wrong with her that was causing the downward slide in her marriage, and she wanted a qualified person to help her figure it out. Over the course of a few months she had spoken enough and answered enough questions with the therapist to come to the conclusion that she was simply not getting attention from her husband.
Claire finished unpacking and readied for bed. She slid out of her leggings and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing both of them into the same laundry basket that had been in the same corner since she was a teen. She looked into the large mirror on the back of the door to the bathroom and examined her bare form. Her long, brown hair fell over her shoulders and came to rest on top of her prominent C cup breasts, which were cradled by an elegant black bra. She had been an attractive woman since her mid-teens and was never without a line of guys vying for her attention. She ran her hands from the sides of her breasts down her slim body to her waist, taking in her own form.
She knew she was attractive, her slender form perfectly paired with her shorter stature. She had been blessed with genetics that left no need to step foot in a gym to keep herself tantalizingly slender, leaving her light skin soft and smooth to the touch. Her looks never failed to pull the eyes of men to her pretty face, sculpted breasts or tight butt.
She was careful who she chose to let get close to her in college though, largely due to an experience she had in high school. She dated a classmate and let him convince her that if she loved him – which she naively thought she did – that she would sleep with him. Instead of being left with a warm feeling of love and affection, she was left crying on the couch in her parents living room after walking home in shame.
Claire undid her bra and slid her panties down her leg as she thought back to that night years ago, both pieces of clothing joining the others in the basket. She stared at her perky breasts, eyes trailing to her thighs and perfectly shaved slit while she remembered how her dad had found her on the couch in tears.
They had always been very close, and her dad had stepped up big time when he found out that he was going to be a dad at just twenty. He got a good job and got himself in shape to make sure he could be around for his only daughter as long as he possibly could.
This closeness allowed her to open up and tell her dad about the boy who had used her. She wasn’t afraid of being punished for having sex. Her father always had a soft spot for his daughter, leading escort bursa to her mother being the disciplinary figure. She was more concerned with disappointing her dad, the person whose opinion mattered most to her.
True to his nature, Brian didn’t admonish her or tell her she should have known better. Instead he scooped her into his arms on the couch and held her close as she cried. When she managed to compose herself, he took her small face in his hands and told her the words that would guide every dating decision she made since:
“If they don’t love you as much as I do, they don’t deserve your love. If they don’t treat you like a princess, find someone who will.”
From that day on, Claire had been extremely selective about men, letting only the most serious of relationships progress to anything sexual. She had been head-over-heels when she met Scott, and he was quick to woo her with gifts and attention.
Grabbing one of her oversized sleep shirts and crawling into bed, she thought about what that infatuation had led to. She was lying in her childhood bed, a few days until Christmas, and she was miserable. Scott was rarely affectionate anymore. They barely had sex, and Claire was so tired of feeling the way she did. She wanted to go back to when she was someone’s everything, not one person’s afterthought.
Claire pulled out her phone and went to her texts. She went to the most recent message, a note from her dad telling her to drive safely from earlier that day. She paused before composing her message, ‘Dad, can we talk alone tomorrow?’
She hit send and waited less than a moment before he texted back, ‘of course princess, everything okay?’
Claire glanced at the bathroom door, imagining she could see Scott beyond the door. ‘I just need my dad right now’ she wrote.
Moments later, her phone buzzed again, ‘anything for my girl, love you baby.’
Claire wrote back that she loved him and put her phone on the nightstand. She heard the shower turn off and closed her eyes to feign sleep so she wouldn’t have to deal with her husband.
Downstairs Susan and Brian sat sat in silence, the fireplace next to the couch casting a warm glow on the room.
“It’s always great to see the kids,” Susan commented when she was sure that the pair were out of earshot.
“Always nice to see Claire, yes, I agree,” said Brian pointedly.
Susan turned on the couch to face her husband.
“What do you mean? Suddenly you don’t like seeing your son-in-law?”
Brian gave a small shrug.
“I used to enjoy it. When he was dating Claire and when they had just married I enjoyed being around him because I could see the love he had for my, I mean. our, daughter.”
Susan rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.
“Always ‘your’ daughter isn’t it? When are you going to let me take some credit?” She laughed softly as she added, “You know I helped make her, too.”
Brian returned the laugh.
“Well, remember you didn’t want to have a kid – you wanted to put her up for adoption when she was born.”
“Well can you blame me?” Susan asked. “I was barely into my twenties and suddenly had to care for another person – I could barely care for myself. Thank God you stepped up. I just couldn’t for the longest time. I know that’s why the two of you are so close. You had to be both parents for a long time.”
Brian smiled at his wife of more than 26 years.
“That girl could not hold a more special place in my heart.”
His smile soured.
“That’s why I no longer like having Scott around,” he said pointedly. “He didn’t offer to carry her bags, embarrassed her with the comments about the drive, and was in a hurry to go upstairs.”
“Men will be men,” Susan sighed. “Not everyone can love your little girl like you do.”
The two paused for a moment, and through the silence they could hear the upstairs shower running. Brian glanced at his wife and scooted closer to her.
“You know, the kids are upstairs and busy, I can think of a way we can occupy some time.” He reached one hand out and tried to place it on his wife’s chest, but she quickly slapped it away.
“The kids are here!” Susan hissed, “You’re going to try to get me to have sex on the couch with our daughter in the room above us?”
Brian persisted in his efforts to coax his wife.
“The shower is on, they won’t be able to hear anything. Plus it’s been so long since we’ve fooled around like we used to.”
Susan pushed his hand away again definitively.
“Is sex all you think about? Goodness, Brian, you ask for it nearly every week.”
He sighed internally. He wanted to ask every day, but Susan had grown complacent. She had changed so much as she aged into her forties. Now they were having sex no more than once a month, and it was always the same routine. They would go to their room; Brian would ask, and Susan would sigh in reluctance. He would climb on top of her and begin, only to be met with comments of, “go slower” and “not so deep.” Once he finally got ready to cum, she would always pull away and have him finish in a towel so she didn’t have to “deal with the cleanup.”
“It sure is on my mind a lot, but you’re my wife and we are supposed to be having sex still,” Brian said, trying to hide his frustration.