Single Dad’s Spring Break

by Rye Hart

  “It was a bird that landed on the windowsill yesterday. Nothing spectacular. I needed a distraction after cleaning all day,” she said.

  “This is nothing spectacular?” I asked.

  “Just a little drawing. I figured Lanie might like it.”

  “Thank you, Amana!” Lanie said.

  It was a beautiful picture, and one that I’d hear about for days from Lanie. She ripped it from my hands and ran it over to the fridge where she picked up a magnet and put it right in the middle. Lanie stood back to survey her work before she scrambled back to the table. Then she climbed onto Amanda’s lap and hugged her neck tightly.

  “Thank you,” Lanie said.

  “You’re very welcome,” Amanda said.

  “How long have you been drawing?” I asked.

  I sat down at the table across from them before I slid spoons in their direction.

  “A long time,” Amanda said. “I actually went to school for it.”

  “So you have an art degree?”

  “I do, yes,” she said.

  “Is that what you do for a living?” I asked.

  “It’s what I’m trying to do for a living. The ‘trying’ part is key in that statement.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Well, I earned my degree in New York City, and right now the hot thing is modernism and cubism and all sorts of ‘isms’ that are boring to me. Scenes and emotions and animals and memories aren’t really that hot in the art world right now, and they’re kind of my specialty,” she said.

  “Maybe you just need to find the right audience,” I said.

  “I’m hoping to. I was showcased in a few art galleries during my senior year, and that led to some sales. The bulk of my market, though, is online.”

  “Online?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I paint, I upload a high-resolution digital picture of it, then people pay a price to print it out, have it framed, and shipped to them.”

  “Sounds very impersonal.”

  “It is, but it keeps my pockets lined until I can do what I really want,” she said.

  “Which is?”

  “Open my own gallery, hold my own showcases, and sell my own art.”

  Her face lit up as she talked about it. She walked me through her dream gallery and how she would lay it out. The color scheme and the business model and even how much it would take to renovate a building and make it happen. I was impressed with her passion and how well thought-out her plan was.

  I was interested in listening to her as she talked about it, and it had been a long time since I’d felt that way about anything.

  Or anyone.

  “Okay, Lanie. Time for bed,” I said after a while.

  “But I’m not tired.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re falling asleep next to Amanda,” I said.

  “Can she tuck me in?” Lanie asked.

  “I think you should let your uncle tuck you in,” Amanda said. “And maybe I could do it some other time.”

  I wasn’t keen on her promising that to Lanie, but it got Lanie moving toward her bedroom, so I let it slide.

  When I came back out to the kitchen, Amanda was already cleaning up. She was storing the pot of soup in the fridge, and I could see all the dishes had been put in the sink. I went over and started washing them as she went over to wipe down the table, and I felt us settling into a natural rhythm. Dancing around each other in the kitchen as we both tried to clean up.

  And every time she passed by me, I got a whiff of her perfume.

  “Brian?”

  “Yep?”

  “How the hell is a man like you single?”

  The question caught me off guard, and I panned my gaze over to her.

  “What?”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t give me that. You’re good looking, you can cook, and you’re obviously well off by the state of this cabin. Why are you single?”

  I lowered my gaze to the floor before I continued cleaning the dishes at the sink.

  “Wasn’t always the case,” I said.

  “I knew it. Someone has your heart,” she said.

  I grunted but didn’t answer.

  I glanced over at Amanda as she made her way to the corner of the counter. She hopped up onto it as I began stacking dishes in the dishwasher. Her legs swung off the edge and dangled in mid-air, swinging as if to tease me. I wanted to reach out and grab them. I wanted to pull her body firmly into mine. I wanted to growl in her ear that it was none of her damn business before I pushed her to her knees and whipped my cock out for her to suck.

  But I felt compelled to talk to her, and that was something I hadn’t experienced before.

  Not with anyone, in fact.

  “I was married once.”

  Amanda’s eyes settled onto the side of my face as I drew in a deep breath.

  “But, things didn’t work out. Ended up being the shittiest decision I’d ever made with my life, quite frankly.”

  “Why?” Amanda asked. “What happened?”

  That was something I wasn’t ready to talk about.

  “Just things. It’s not important. What about you?”

  “There was until he turned out to be a jackass.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “Just things,” she said.

  I stacked the last dish in the dishwasher before I closed it up and looked at her.

  “Things, huh?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir. Just things.”

  My cock twitched at her voice calling me ‘sir.’

  “Do you ever get into town much?” Amanda asked.

  “Not really. Unless we need food,” I said.

  “So you really are a recluse up here.”

  “I guess.”

  “Don’t you get lonely?” she asked.

  I could see her eyes raking up and down my body as I leaned against the counter.

  “Not as lonely as you would think,” I said.

  “Now that I’m here?” she asked, a slight teasing tone in her voice.

  She looked up at me from underneath those long lashes of hers, and I heard my blood pulsing in my ears. I could feel my cock growing with every word that fell from her lips. I was just beginning to notice the outfit she had on. The low-cut shirt with her tits hiked up. Her dark-wash jeans that clung to her legs. The dangling earrings that accentuated the length of her neck.

  I took a step back from her before I cleared my throat.

  “Speaking of you being here, how’s the state of that cabin of yours?” I asked.

  I saw Amanda’s face drop, and I tried not to let it make me feel guilty. I couldn't get wrapped up in her. I couldn't allow my surging urges to fuck anything up. She was a stranger and a young woman who didn’t know where she was going or what the hell she was doing with her life. I already had one child I needed to raise. I didn’t need two.

  “It’s rough,” she said as she hopped down from the counter. “I’ll have to go into town this week and talk with some people about it.”

  “You thinking about repairing it?” I asked.

  “I could do some of the topical repairs, but there are bigger issues that need to be addressed.”

  “You got the money to pull off something like that?”

  I saw her shoulders stiffen and I began to regret even asking the question.

  “I have my savings and a bit of inheritance money. The cabin means a lot to me, so I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

  “You said it was your childhood home?” I asked.

  “Yep,” she said.

  I could tell by the tone of her voice that I’d hit a sore spot, so I dropped the topic and moved on.

  “What kind of repairs does it need?” I asked.

  “Lots,” she said. “The staircase, obviously. The porch. The kitchen needs to be updated. I haven’t even gone upstairs yet because I’m afraid to walk the rest of the way up, but I’m sure it needs some shit done to it. Thankfully, the pipes and the electrical wiring don’t seem to be bad.”

>   “That’s good,” I said.

  “I need to find someone I trust with the repairs,” she said. “I won’t let just anyone in that house to work on it.”

  “Understandable.”

  “And I’ll have to figure it out soon because the longer the cabin sits like that, the worse it’ll get.”

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” I said.

  I could see Amanda eyeing the door before she turned her gaze back toward me.

  “Well, thanks for dinner,” she said.

  “I didn’t cook, so thank you for dinner,” I said.

  “It was nothing. An easy soup. I hope you and Lanie enjoy it.”

  It seemed suddenly as if Amanda couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. She whipped the door open and closed it behind her, then practically leaped off the porch. I watched as she walked back toward her cabin in the dark, her hips swaying and her hair blowing in the wind. She had her arms folded over her chest as the winter air descended upon the mountain, and I kicked myself for making her feel uncomfortable.

  I was actually beginning to enjoy our conversation before I fucked it all up.

  Settling down for the night, I got into a warm shower. I could still smell her body spray lingering in the air, and I wanted to wash it from my skin. The last thing I needed was to go to bed with her on my mind. Then I would end up fantasizing about her when my eyes closed for the night.

  But as my cock twitched with anger at the fact that Amanda wasn’t here with me in this shower, I knew I was in trouble.

  I wrapped my hand around my dick and began to stroke. I thought about Amanda in that tight little number she had on tonight, with her low-cut shirt and her beautiful tits. I thought about ripping that flimsy fabric off her and tossing it to the floor. I thought about biting and nibbling on her pebbled nipples as she bucked against me. I thought about sliding those jeans down her legs and sliding my fingers inside her tight, wet pussy.

  I bet she could grind against me wantonly and with absolute abandon.

  Stroking my cock, I felt a few drops of precum slide to the surface. The warm water beat against my aching muscles as my hips began to thrust into my hand. I thought about her red lips wrapped around my dick as she gagged on its length. Then kissing away her tears of effort before I slid into her tight, throbbing pussy. I thought about fucking her against the wall and bending her over the table. I thought about sliding my growing cock into her tight little asshole.

  I wondered if anyone had taken that little asshole of hers.

  I thought about how her ass would bounce every time I slammed into her. I thought about smacking it time and time again, leaving my handprint behind as a sign of owning her. I thought about all the times I could make her moan my name before tears of mercy streamed down her cheeks.

  Then I thought about kissing them away before I pulled one last orgasm from her body.

  “Amanda. Shit. Oh fuck, those tits. That ass is so tight. Come for me. Come on my cock. Just like that, baby girl.”

  My legs contracted and my abs shook. The smell of Amanda’s perfume swirled around my head. The steam of the shower blanketed my body as I shot cum against the wall, pumping my lust from between my legs. Visions of Amanda smiling at me in bed descended into my conscious mind as I lowered myself to my knees. My cock was dwindling in my hands as my eyes screwed shut.

  I wanted to keep the idea of her next to me there for as long as I could.

  I sat down on the floor of the shower and caught my breath. I had no fucking idea what I’d gotten myself into. Once a man masturbated to the memory of a woman, he never went back. Once a man entertained the idea of having her body underneath his, he wouldn’t stop until he had it. I could feel the hunter in me rising up. Years of repressed urges and unfulfilled desires boiling over the edges of my body as my cock began to grow again.

  So, I wrapped my hand around my dick again and closed my eyes as I saw her.

  Amanda.

  With a bow in her hair and a pair of black stockings on with crotchless panties soaked and ready to be peeled off her.

  Just the way I liked it.

  CHAPTER 7

  Amanda

  “Hey, Amanda!”

  “What’s up Sarah?” I asked.

  “Nothing much, just getting off work. What’s up with you?”

  “Well, I promised you I’d call you after I went into town, and I did today.”

  “Oh, sweet! What did you find? Anything helpful?” she asked.

  “It was. I found a contractor that I trust, though I don’t know if I can afford his rates. He’s coming by the cabin later on today to take a look at things. See what kind of estimate he can give me before we talk about what’s feasible.”

  “You have someone there that can sit with you while you do that?” she asked. “I can get a flight out or something.”

  “Sarah. I’m not a child. I’ve got this. It’s just some pricing, and the guy seems really nice. Liked by the locals, too, which is a big thing in towns like this.”

  “One, you’re twenty-two, so technically you are still a child.”

  “Says the girl who’s a year younger than me,” I said

  “And two, I’m just looking out for you. With everything you’ve been through the past few months, it would be okay if your head wasn’t screwed on straight.”

  “Are you calling me crazy?” I asked. “Because if you are, then you’re late to that party.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me flying out?” she asked.

  “Sarah. I’m fine. I’m serious. If all else fails, I’ll ask my neighbor for some advice.”

  “Uh huh. That neighbor. We’ll talk about him later How much do you have for the repairs?”

  “Between the inheritance money and my savings account, I can put exactly $32,461 into the repair of this cabin.”

  “And by the way you talk about it, that doesn’t sound like near enough,” she said.

  “I was up front with the contractor and told him taking out a loan wasn’t going to be in the cards. He was understanding and even talked about payment plans I could do, which would help my money go a lot further.”

  “Payment plans?” she asked.

  “Yep. They come in, do the work, draw up the bill, and then I put a certain percentage down and split up the rest into monthly payments over the course of however many months I want to pay on it. That thirty-two thousand could make monthly payments for two, three years before I’d be in trouble, and that would give me plenty of time to get my art going in the right direction.”

  “Amanda, don’t get too in over your head. I wouldn’t go spending any more money than you have.”

  “I know, I know. I’m not going to go crazy and update the entire place and spend two hundred thousand dollars or some shit. But, if the major repairs took $40,000, I could do the monthly payment thing, use some of the money from my online sales to pay the rest over time, and the big things could get fixed.”

  “Just making sure you’re not losing it over there,” she said. “First the cabin’s okay, then it’s a wreck, then you meet some handsome neighbor you’re boning-”

  “We aren’t having sex,” I said.

  “Fine, a handsome neighbor you want to bone. I’m making sure you’re still being rational .”

  “Thanks. I think. Anyway, from what I was able to tell the contractor, the major repairs alone will cost more than what I have. He won’t be able to have a firm estimate until he comes and takes a look at the place, but the general figure was already thirty-five thousand.”

  “Yikes. And what does that cover?”

  “Replacing the staircase, repairing the porch under the assumption that it doesn’t have to be replaced, fixing the cabinets in the kitchen, stabilizing the kitchen counter, and steam-cleaning the furniture after all the work is done.”

  “They steam clean?” she asked.

  “No, that was a different service I priced out after I talked with the contractor in town. Anything els
e will take me way over budget, so I’m hoping for the best when he gets here.”

  “When are you expecting the contractor?”

  “Around three o’clock today. And yes, I’ll call you once he leaves.”

  “Good. I know you’re in the town you grew up in, but you’re a single woman living in a cabin on a mountaintop. That makes you vulnerable, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “I appreciate it, Sarah. I really do. Right now, my focus is on repairing this cabin and painting.”

  “And your neighbor,” she said.

  “And painting,” I said, ignoring her. “Sarah, I’d forgotten how beautiful it was out here. The animals and the sunsets and the trees. It’s inspiring. I’ve already drawn one picture.”

  “What was it of?”

  “A bird that perched on the windowsill outside. Which reminds me, when all this is said and done, this cabin has the perfect windowsills to have little window box gardens. You know, like herb plants and shit.”

  “‘Herb plants and shit.’ You make it sound so magical out there.”

  “Shut up. I hate you. Anyway, just some thoughts after all this big stuff’s taken care of,” I said.

  “It sounds like you’re preparing to set up camp there.”

  I paused as I thought on her statement. In a way, I was. I was slowly settling into a place I’d considered home for years. I was beginning to dig through my grandmother’s room, and with her articles of clothing came memories of us sitting on the porch and talking. I wanted to put up another porch swing like we had before I’d broken it as a kid. And put a couple of rocking chairs on the porch so I could go out there with coffee and watch the nighttime set over the forest.

  “I guess it does, huh?” I asked.

  “I’ll support you in whatever you decide,” Sarah said. “As long as you have a room for me to come visit. Because I can’t live too much longer without my Amanda.”

  “You’ll always be welcome here,” I said. “My grandmother would’ve loved you.”

  I felt tears rising in my eyes as I thought about my grandmother meeting my best friend.

  “Anyway,” I said. “I should get cleaned up. The contractor will be here in a couple of hours, and I should at least put on a bra.”

  “Might be a good idea,” Sarah said, giggling. “Call me right after.”