Stacy's Dad Has Got It Going On

by Giselle Renarde

  “No, I mean it.” When she pulled her knees up onto the couch, her naked legs peeked out from the slit of her dressing gown. For a brief moment, she considered modesty’s demand to draw the robe firmly shut. Throwing modesty to the breeze, she leaned across to the coffee table, allowing the top to fall open just a touch as she reached for her mug. She knew it was lecherous of her, but she wanted him to look at her body and consider the possibilities. “You look almost my age, like you might have finished college ten years ago, max.”

  Throwing his head back against the couch, Eric released a sharp laugh that peaked too soon and then dwindled quickly away. As he sat cupping his coffee mug with both hands and staring at the ceiling, Savannah felt a twinge of discomfort. It was so obvious he was thinking about all the bullshit his wife had put him through—what else would he be contemplating, looking so like a lost little boy? Savannah’s legs itched to stand up and leave, but she fought the unsympathetic urge. She wanted to make Eric feel better. Somehow. If there was one thing Savannah sucked at, it was consoling the heartbroken.

  “So, what did you take in college?” Savannah finally asked. If she couldn’t comfort Eric, the least she could do was change the subject.

  He shot her a curious glance. “Nothing. Why, what did Stacy tell you?”

  Confused, Savannah gripped her coffee. Why did Eric look so defensive? Had he not gone to college? Savannah felt flustered by his strange response. She searched his fearful gaze for some answer, but found none. His eyes were so blue. Even looking so apprehensive as they did, those eyes took her breath away.

  As she ogled him like a schoolgirl with a crush, a wave of understanding seemed to come over him, followed by a wave of relief. “Oh,” he said, chuckling before sipping his coffee and setting it down on the table. “What courses did I take?”

  “Well…yeah.” Savannah gripped her mug. “What did you think I meant?”

  “Oh, it’s stupid.” He stuck a hand in his blonder-than-blond hair and ruffled it like the coat on a golden retriever. “I thought you meant what drugs did I take in college.”

  “Drugs?” Now it was Savannah’s turn to toss her head back and laugh. Drugs? “God, no! Are you kidding me? Drugs and I inhabit two separate worlds. I’ve never even smoked a cigarette.”

  Eric smirked and that wonderfully juvenile dimple made its first appearance of the night. “Haven’t you?”

  “Nope,” she said with a shrug that nearly spilled her coffee. To be safe, she set her mug down beside his. “I try to stay away from things that are bad for me.”

  Savannah’s mind reeled with all the possible follow-ups to that statement: “What about me, Savannah? I’m bad for you, and you just keep inching your way closer.” Of course, Eric didn’t say anything like that. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all. He only nodded and reached for his coffee.

  “I do enjoy caffeine,” Savannah went on. “And I guess that’s bad for me. But we all need our vices, don’t we?”

  She imagined him putting an arm around her shoulder and asking, “Is that your only vice?” before kissing her neck and then tearing open her dressing gown and licking her breasts. God, what she wouldn’t give to feel his hot mouth encompassing her nipple. The sucking would turn her own so bad she’d grab his hand and thrust it between her legs. He’d find her wet already.

  It didn’t take much. Savannah’s mind could make her wetter than any coarse man’s body. Could Eric be coarse? If she poised herself just right at his side, would he wrap his arm around her middle and kiss her hard? Would he lay her back and open up her robe? Would he pull out his hard cock and, without even bothering to strip off his clothes, shove it into the wetness between her legs? Hold her shoulders down and fuck her bareback, with Stacy in the next room?

  No, Eric would never do anything like that. Of course he wouldn’t. He was sensitive and dignified, and that’s why Savannah felt so safe around him. If she thought for a second this man might be a threat to her personal safety, she wouldn’t be sitting beside him on the couch in the middle of the night, sipping coffee in nothing but a robe.

  “To answer your question,” Eric said, “I was an English major with a minor in poli-sci.”

  Savannah issued a generous smile. “And they say an English degree won’t get you anywhere.”

  “Well, it was more the political portion of my degree that helped me along in my career.” Eric returned her smile ten-fold.

  For a moment, Savannah simply gazed at him: perfectly straight teeth, perfectly pink lips…Eric was quite a man. She’d encountered many successful people over the years, in a financial sense, but so few whose careers she actually respected. “How did wrangle a job with the IHAO?”

  He shrugged. “Same way anybody without connections does it: took an unpaid internship, got hired on as a minion with a pretty crappy wage, and just kept applying for those promotions until they started coming through. I’ve heard it said executives are promoted to the level of incompetence, and that’s pretty much where I’m at now.”

  Savannah rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that isn’t true. Everything you told me about the IHAO yesterday proves you’re good at what you do. Oh, and that reminds me, I want to make a larger donation to the organization—and that proves you’re good at your job too, because you’re the reason I want to donate.” Did that sound too fawning? “I mean, all that stuff you told me about, about the bombs in Laos and all that…”

  Eric could obviously see that she was treading water, trying desperately not to sink down to the depths of obvious infatuation. “You’re in the same program as Stacy, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Pretty much,” she said with a nod. “Yeah, I’m bio-chem, she’s more on the bio-engineering side of things.” Savannah felt stupid for saying that last bit. Eric was Stacy’s father. Of course he knew what program she was in.

  Savannah turned to look at the clock on the microwave, since they’d never managed to set the one on their old VCR. Boy, was it late!

  “Don’t go,” Eric pleaded, like he could read her mind. He looked down into his coffee. “I mean, if you’re tired or whatever, yes, go, but…” With a persuasive smile, he said, “I could use the company.”

  She couldn’t name the force that guided her to sit upright on the couch. Was it the same one that insisted she grab a cushion and place it in her lap? Taking the coffee mug from Eric’s hand, she set it down on the table. His movements were every bit as fluid as hers when she set her palm against his head and pulled it down into her lap. He offered no resistance. She didn’t have to force him, and maybe that’s because he could sense, in that moment, Savannah’s intentions were not seductive. This was comfort. Something inside of her was giving instruction now, to run her fingers through his fine hair as he lay bundled against her on the couch.

  The TV took over, as it tends to do, but it wasn’t the lame jokes or the canned laughter that prompted Savannah’s smile. The look of relaxation on Eric’s face as he faded into sleep did more for her than any drug possibly could.

  Chapter Six

  The birds had barely begun chirping when Stacy’s bedroom door clicked open. Savannah jumped—at least, she started to jump before realizing there was a man in her lap. Eric’s sleeping head was damn heavy. Her heart leapt into her throat. She was stuck. She couldn’t get up without tossing him off the couch or extracting herself by stealing off to the side.

  In an oversized T-shirt and pyjama pants, Stacy sleepwalked to the bathroom. When the door closed and locked behind her, Savannah relaxed just enough to mutter, “Shit,” as she tried to pull herself out from under Eric’s head.

  Eric seemed to wake up at her hissed expletive, and just in time to see Savannah yank her legs out from under him. The right side of her dressing gown was not so easily extricated. He looked down and she looked where he was looking. With her robe caught under Eric’s elbow, his lucky gaze landed smack against her bare bush.

  Savannah’s blood ran cold. This was exactly what she’d hoped for last
night, but now it seemed so wrong. Why? Because it was unintentional or because Stacy was nearly awake and peeing just across the hall?

  Before Eric could say anything, Savannah yanked on her robe. Eric’s elbow slid out from under him and his face landed flat against the cushion he’d slept on in her lap. Savannah took advantage of the opportunity to run away. She didn’t stop until she’d reached her room, shut the door, and locked it. Once inside, she fell across the bed she hadn’t slept in and gazed at herself in the mirror. After a time, she opened her robe and looked at her bush through Eric’s eyes. That’s when she smiled.

  * * * *

  After dressing fast as lightning, Savannah assembled her notes and grabbed her microbiology text. She’d get more reading done at the library than she would at home—too many distractions on the couch and in her sock drawer. If she got enough work done during the day, she could fully relax during her date with Chris.

  Speeding past the kitchen with only a sheepish grin for Stacy’s father, Savannah crammed her feet into a pair of shoes, hoping they were on the right feet, and rushed out the door. She hadn’t even brushed her teeth before leaving, but gum was made for times like these. As she hopped down the stairs, Savannah instructed herself to think about Chris now so she wouldn’t be distracted by pre-date imaginings later, when she tried to study. People laughed at her near-bureaucratic organizational skills, but her grades said it all. “A place for everything and everything in its place” applied not only to the objects in her apartment, but to thoughts in her mind.

  Savannah flashed her bus pass at the driver and took off her backpack before plopping herself down at a window seat. Was it ever early! The sun was barely in the sky. After her midnight coffee with Eric and this morning’s early rise, would she even be able to stay awake for Chris’ band? As she watched the Laundromat owner picking up litter outside her store, Savannah pictured Chris’ scruffy exterior. She was attracted to him, right? His orange dreads and that weird beard certainly set him apart from everyone else in her program, but did she find him handsome? Alluring? Cute, even?

  Well, whatever. Looks weren’t everything…though, she had a nagging suspicion she did find him cute not two days ago. Chris was a cool guy—he had that going for him, at least. Wait…why was he cool, again? What were these cool qualities she and Stacy had always agreed her possessed? Was it really just the dreads? Or was it the fact that he played in a band? Couldn’t be that—Savannah wasn’t even all that big on the garage bands playing their asses off in the crowded bars. Why did she need to go to a Kingsley’s? Hell, she didn’t even drink! She’d so been looking forward to this date…and why? So she could wear an old Sailor Moon T-shirt to impress a guy who was probably no better than a rebellious trust fund brat?

  Savannah took another piece of gum from the pack and chewed in contemplation.

  * * * *

  When Savannah arrived home to change for her date, Stacy and her dad were nowhere to be found. She headed straight for her bedroom, where she felt somewhat ambivalent about not walking in on a naked Eric—it would have leant some excitement to a dry day—and dropped her backpack on the floor. Should she shower? Yes, she should shower. Aside from the fact that she smelled like stank, it would give Eric an opportunity to walk in on her naked, if he should so happen to arrive home as she stood in the unlocked bathroom.

  By the time she’d showered and primped and searched all over the damn place for that Sailor Moon T-shirt without ever finding it, Eric and Stacy still hadn’t arrived home. Savannah settled on her favourite white tank and jeans, and then stood in front of the mirror in evaluation mode. She looked pretty good, but what difference did it make? Look good for Chris? Who cares? He wouldn’t give a damn if he looked good for her. He probably wouldn’t even remember he’d invited her.

  Why had she liked this guy?

  Better yet, why didn’t she like him anymore?

  Savannah didn’t let her mind hover over that question too long. She knew the answer, of course, but she wasn’t too keen on admitting it to herself. The only way to get over someone was to get under someone, and she’d spent last night with Stacy’s dad snuggling against her thigh.

  Glancing at the time on the microwave, Savannah decided to make a quick pita wrap before heading off to an evening of loud music and ginger ale. Before she’d even pulled the lettuce from the fridge, the front door opened and a smiling Eric pounced inside. “Savannah!” he cried, kicking his shoes off before tossing a few shopping bags on the couch. “Great! I’m glad you’re home. Look what I bought!”

  As Eric tore into his shopping bags, Savannah waited for the door to open again. It didn’t. “Where’s Stacy?”

  He looked to the front door and then to Stacy’s bedroom door before shaking his head. “Oh, right. She said she was helping some guy set up for a gig.”

  Savannah nearly dropped the mayonnaise. “Some guy? What guy? Who guy?”

  Scratching his shoulder, Eric furled his brow like the name wasn’t important. “I don’t know. Chris, I think. His band’s playing at that pub Stace took me to last night. She said you always spent Saturday nights at home and you wouldn’t mind the company.”

  “What?” She didn’t want Eric to feel insulted by her off-the-handle insanity, but, “What? She’s with Chris? When did…what the hell?”

  Eric appeared increasingly confused as she stammered nonsense. Leaning into the back of the sofa, he pulled a box set out of his shopping bag. In absolute earnest he said, “Look, I bought us a whole collection of Lucy videos to watch. I thought we could do a marathon, of sorts. Stacy said you always spend your Saturday nights at home anyway…”

  It embarrassed Savannah that he knew such a thing about her. “But I told her Chris asked me to his gig…I told her I had plans…”

  Moving nothing but his lips, Eric said, “And I’ve gone and ruined them.”

  His eyes shone such a charming shade of sky blue, Savannah couldn’t but love him. “No,” she said, shaking her head. In her bare feet, she rushed from the tiled kitchen into the carpeted living room. She had to stop herself from throwing her arms around Stacy’s dad and pressing her chest flush to his. Instead, she grabbed the cuffs of his white shirt and squeezed his wrists. The moment she touched him, an image flashed through her mind of the morning’s…well…flash. She felt her eyes grow so large she feared they’d pop out of their sockets like in cartoons.

  Releasing his wrists, she took a step back and stared at his striped socks. They made her smile. “No, it’s not your fault. And a Lucy marathon sounds great, but this guy invited me…I mean, I told him I would come to see his band.” Her heart fluttered as she looked up into Eric’s despairing eyes. “Hey, wanna come with?”

  “Oh.” He tossed his head back and smiled at the offer. “It’ll be all young people.”

  Savannah gave him a teasing poke in the side. “From what Stacy’s been telling me, it sounds like you’ve been getting along very well with young people.” She tried to wink, but Savannah’s attempted winks always looked like a medical condition.

  “Do you have something in your eye?” Eric asked.

  With a chuckle, she swept into the kitchen and put the makings of her wrap back in the fridge. “I was going to eat before heading out, but do you want to grab a bite at the pub instead?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Eric said with a big smile. “Are you sure you won’t feel embarrassed, eating with a decrepit old man?”

  Savannah rolled her eyes as she grabbed her purse. “Whatever!” Half the girls on campus would be jealous to see her sharing a meal with Eric. She estimated only fifteen percent would envy Stacy acting as roadie for stupid crunchy-granola dreadlock-head.

  “Well, thanks for taking me out on the town,” Eric said as he slipped on his shoes. “I really need this.”

  Sticking her keys in the door, Savannah let an impish grin bleed across her lips. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was a bit of a let-down to find
the place wasn’t packed. Sure, there were lots of people at the pub, but no more than any other Saturday night. Despite Savannah’s mixed feelings toward Chris, she wanted his gig to go well.

  The stage was set but Chris’ band hadn’t taken it yet when the hostess in the short plaid skirt and clunky black boots showed them to a booth along the side wall. There were tables closer to the stage, but Savannah wasn’t sure she wanted Chris to see her. Why? she wondered. Was it simply that she didn’t want Chris to know she’d shown up after he went and invited Stacy to be little miss roadie for his band? Or did Savannah not want Chris to see her with Eric? She wasn’t sure yet. In fact, ever since Eric had come to stay, Savannah felt like her life had gone all topsy-turvy. Everything she’d wanted before, she didn’t want now, and now she wanted…new things…like…

  “Do you know what you want?”

  Gobsmacked, Savannah looked up at Eric. “Huh? Do I…what?”

  “Stace and I had fish and chips here yesterday,” he said without looking up from the menu. “It was a good plate of food, but I don’t feel like the same thing two days in a row.”

  “Oh, right. I guess not.” Savannah’s menu rested in front of her in all its filthy, laminated glory. She picked it up, avoiding the blob of dried ketchup covering the “E” in “Entrees.” Though she stared intently, she didn’t see the words on the page. She only saw Eric, reading the bill of fare like it was a sacred tome.

  Resting his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, Eric set down his menu and smiled at Savannah. “So, what do you think? Any recommendations?”

  He looked like a child, striking that pose. She almost wanted to play the mommy and tell him to get his elbows off the table. “Sometimes I get the salmon wrap,” she told him. Sometimes she just ordered a big plate of fries, too, and drenched them in malt vinegar, but a distinguished man like Eric would never be impressed by a meal like that. Maybe they should have gone somewhere else to eat, and then come to the pub later on.