Chapter 14

Daddy is pretty sharp ... but the vista before us had him mesmerized. What Seven said about the watch being dangerous to his gender finally hit the switch, caused current to pass through unused wires and lit the idea bulb.

“Shit!” he said.

That was the second or third time I had heard Daddy swear. That’s not to say it was the second or third he’d sworn ... but he was very careful around me. Drinking at his club or playing poker? Most likely he could turn the air blue ... I just didn’t know it. Daddy was careful of his little girl.

Then he said, “You mean I can’t use it?”

Well, Seven was past that and had to back-track a bit. She finally got to that part and said, “You can ... but it can be dangerous to your sex. Use it at your own risk ... the warrantee even mentions it in the handbook. It’s on the binder.”

Daddy rubbed his hands together.

“Alright, then. How do we get back to then?”

“You’re done here?” Seven asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Come on Wendy, let’s go home.”

“Regroup,” Seven said.

They did.

And of course daddy had to use the bush ... again.

“Join hands,” Seven ... now one took mine. I took dads and Seven squeezed the fake heirloom.

Daddy and I were dancing the Texas Two-Step, Seven was nowhere to be found. We were exactly where we were when I squeezed the watch. Nothing had changed ... well ... just the fraction of a little bit ... I had flickered twice ... daddy only once. I stepped just a fraction off and he ... the heavyweight that he is ... stepped on my open-toed lace-up leather sandal ... my toes inside.

Embarrassment extreme.

The blush wasn’t from the misstep, the blush was from trying to hold my breath and not scream. I released my grip and limped off.

“Sorry!” Daddy said, “I don’t know what came over me.”

The toes were already turning color.

“Be right back,” Daddy said. He spoke up, “Dr. Casco.”

Casco was one of our “Expert Witnesses.” You couldn’t have a party and not invite him.

Casco was schmoozing a secretary. He excused himself and came over.

“What’s up, counselor?” Doc Casco asked.

Before Daddy could explain, the good doctor noticed my foot.

“That’s gotta hurt,” he said.

“It does,” I groaned.

“Let me take a look,” he said, dropping to one knee.

He folded my dress over my knees and picked up my foot by the heel of my shoe. He cradled it in his hands ... and quite naturally he could see all the way up to paradise ... and look he did.

The dress was constructed such that panty lines would show ... so.

I wasn’t wearing any.

Dr. Casco wasn’t my gynecologist. Still ... he got as good a look as he could have gotten with my feet in the stirrups.

He chuckled, “Close shave.”

And then I farted.