Chapter 2

Panty Party.

And then dad came home.

I guess mom went straight to work, so he came back alone with a few bags of groceries and household supplies.

He kind of took in the living room, and gave this smile. “Well, looks like the, uh, underwear party is going well,” he said.

“Daad,” Abigail grinned, looking over at her friends and me for a moment. “It’s a panty party.”

“I thought it was called an underwear party,” I butted in.

Abigail and her friend Kate, too, shook their heads vigorously. “We changed the name,” Abigail explained. Though that was the first I’d heard about it. She went on, “I mean, do you see any underwear except panties?” She said this like she was reasoning with a slightly dim child.

“Err, can’t say that I do,” dad admitted, but, unexpectedly, he smiled wryly at me, like some co-conspirator. I shrugged. His eyes flickered around for a moment.

I was feeling a little bit embarrassed - but I was working at hiding it well, I thought. He clearly wasn’t bothered by it at this point, so why should I be? I mean, he looked me up and down - same as he had with the girls the night before. It was like he was getting used to seeing me that way, right? But he wasn’t weird about it or anything. And he was less awkward than he had been with the girls the night before. He’d gotten used to the idea, too, I figured.

He went on into the kitchen.

I decided rather than acting embarrassed I would do better to be a bit bold about it. So I followed him into the kitchen and offered to help put away things. He smiled that same smile again and said sure, and so I helped in putting things away. I felt his eyes on me a few times, especially one time when I bent over to put some things in a cupboard under the counter. But it was a bit surprising to me: I felt unbothered by it. Like I was thinking, well, of course he’s gonna look - there’s a girl in just panties in the kitchen.

Sometimes I think weird things. So as I was bending over, I thought, “hey, look, another panty butt for you to fail at not looking at.” I wanted to giggle at my own secret joke. I admit I actually kind of held the position for longer than strictly necessary, fully aware of his eyes on me.

When we’d gotten things put away, I tried to make conversation, briefly. Sort of trying to dare myself to be bold and carefree about my near nudity.

“So watcha got planned for this afternoon?” I asked him.

He shrugged, pretty successfully avoiding looking at anything except my face, since I was directly in front of him. “Probably I should just hide out in my office,” he said, with good humor.

“What do you mean?” I asked, playing a little bit innocent - I guessed quickly enough what he was meaning. I liked that he spoke to me a bit confidentially, setting me apart from Abigail and her friends, despite the fact that I’d joined them in this escapade.

He sighed. “Well, I mean ... just to avoid seeing all the, uh, party thing,” he said, fading at the end, perhaps not sure how to phrase it diplomatically.

Still feeling bold, I filled it in. “You mean seeing their panty butts?” I teased. But then, recalling what I’d just done, I corrected myself, “ ... OUR panty butts?”

He furrowed his brow, so I pushed a bit more. “It bothers you, seeing that?”

“I just shouldn’t,” he sighed again.

Suddenly I felt bad for him. “Aw. I mean, you know ... I don’t actually mind. And obviously the girls don’t seem to mind either, right?”

“I realize you guys don’t mind,” he explained, and added, “That doesn’t mean I should look.” I realized that he was feeling slightly guilty, if anything.

“It’s not hurting anything,” I said, after thinking for a moment as to what would be the right thing to say. “I mean ... I know it’s just a thing, for guys. Like ... they look, right? Sorta automatic, almost. Right?”

I felt a bit awkward having this conversation with dad, but we’d always gotten along well, able to talk about basically anything. And my embarrassment about my embarrassment (does that even make sense?) ended up making me talk more confidently than I felt.

“Right. Guys,” he said, but continued, “but still ... not dads.”

I giggled. “Apparently yes dads too, seems like” I quipped back, shrugging, and slipping back into that teasing mode. I couldn’t seem to help it. I couldn’t believe it when I then added, “I mean ... I know you were looking just now.”

“What do you mean?” he asked defensively.

I blushed slightly. “When I was ... bending over, just now? Putting away the rice?”

He rolled his eyes. Now it was his turn to be embarrassed, and he hid it much less effectively than I had been. I couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Aw, don’t worry. It’s like I said. Like ... it’s not hurting anything.” I paused, but then said, “I mean ... look all you want.”

I immediately regretted saying that, because he reacted to that by kind of surveying me - my body - standing there in just panties in front of him. His eyes spent several beats looking at my chest. I felt self-conscious. But after having said it, there wasn’t any sense in taking it back, was there? So I worked on convincing myself that what I had just said was true - it wasn’t hurting anything. Really, it was fun. Like, I was showing off, in a way.

It probably will seem strange, but dad suddenly got almost sappy, like he does sometimes. Bring his eyes up to meet mine, again, he said, “You really have grown up to be a remarkable young woman. I’m so proud of you.”

I rolled my eyes and decided to leave the room before it got awkward.

I went back to hang with the girls. But despite the “panty party” going on, actually it had gotten a bit boring. They were just giggling and surfing the TV and generally doing what middle school girls do on a sleepover.

That changed when, about 30 minutes later, dad came into the room. He stood and kind of took in the scene. I was in a corner of the couch, but kinda sprawled out if I’m honest about it. I’d gotten pretty comfortable already with the just panties uniform. Abigail and Kate were lying on their stomachs looking at Kate’s iPad thing. Jessica, who I tended to think of as the shyest of the three girls, was actually looking very at ease, too, knees up and wide apart, leaning against the couch.

I saw him come in, but the other three girls didn’t, for a moment. And I don’t think he realized I’d seen him come in, either. So it was kind of interesting, watching as his eyes roamed over the scene. I realized I liked it better when I wasn’t the object of his attention - it was weirdly fascinating to see where his eyes lingered on the other girls, without the stress of feeling like I was on the spot, myself.

Finally though, Kate noticed he was there and kinda squealed and the girls looked around, and Abigail, playing it cool as usual, was just like, “hi dad,” but the other two girls ... you could tell they were feeling self-conscious again. Jess closed her legs, and the other two girls shifted positions too, obviously a bit self-aware. With a few minutes, the three of them decamped upstairs to Abigail’s room. I was invited to follow and said I’d be up in a bit.

That left me alone with dad again, as he moved to sit in the recliner where he liked to sit, giving out a little demonstrative sigh - it seemed completely on purpose, as if meant to open a conversation.

So I looked over at him and grinned. “You scared them and they ran away,” I teased.

He nodded. “Probably for the best,” he said.

Things were quiet for a bit, as he was looking at the newspaper - he still liked to read an actual paper newspaper, which was basically an affectation, in my opinion, but it was kind of amusing sometimes.

I kept feeling this temptation to probe him about the situation. So I said, “I think Abigail has no problem with you being around but I think Jessica and Kate are still a bit shy about it.”

“Yeah, that’s probably accurate,” he agreed.

“Anyway you got a good long chance to look at them before they realized you were here,” I prodded.

“Oh? You saw that.” This was a statement, not a question, as he realized I had seen.

I nodded. His face changed to a guilty look again.

I wanted to make him feel less guilty about it, and tell him that it wasn’t hurting anything, but I didn’t feel right speaking on behalf of my sister and her friends the way I’d spoken for myself. So I kind of spontaneously took a different tack. I’m not sure I should have done that, but in the moment it seemed like the right thing to do.

“Which is the best panty butt?”

He looked over at me and met my eyes for a second, clearly not actually understanding the question at first. But then I could see his brain processing its meaning, and his response was clever enough, after the delay. “Well yours, of course.” He made a kind of smirk.

“Jeez, dad.” I said, speechless myself for a moment. “Okay, good point,” I conceded, playfully. “But, I mean, of the girls. I mean, since you were looking at them all.”

“They’re all attractive young women,” he said, trying to avoid playing favorites, and maybe trying to avoid sounding like a perv, too, I figured.

“Duh,” I said. “I think you looked at Jessica the longest,” I ventured. I was quiet for a moment, remembering how his gaze had worked around the room.

“Probably cause of how she was sitting,” I added, speculating, and chuckled slightly. With her knees up and apart, she’d kind of been “on display” between her legs. I was bit shocked at myself, as I thought about it. Like, it was kind of exciting to imagine dad had enjoyed looking at that.

He seemed to realize he couldn’t - or didn’t want to - lie about it. He just nodded. “A guy ... it’s like a reflex,” he tried to explain as an excuse.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it before. How guys are, right?”

He nodded. “You’re very wise for your age,” he said, getting sappy again.

I rolled my eyes - standard response, at this point. That was the end of that particular interaction.

Later, he’d gone back into the kitchen to start dinner, and the girls had reappeared, intuiting that the “coast was clear” in the living room, I guess.

So they were back hanging out. Out of the blue, I asked Abigail if the thing had started with them doing dares, the night before. She said not really ... it was more spontaneous than that. “Just acting weird,” she finally said, shrugging.

Jessica giggled. “Abi started it, though,” she accused.

Abigail didn’t disagree. She just grinned and waggled her eyebrows.

I decided to push my luck, and asked, “How come you girls ran off when dad came in?”

Jessica looked down, but Abigail was straightforward about it. “Just a little bit weird ... like dad looking at us,” she said.

“Does it bother you?” I asked, frankly. I was enjoying getting to quiz BOTH sides of this witnessed interaction. My mom as jokingly called me a “junior anthropologist.” She might be right.