Chapter 4

ADDISON WALKED HOME FROM school. The sun was hot despite the leafy shade of old trees lining the road. She hardly noticed. Her mind was busy. For the last two weeks, she’d seen Dad cope. Today was his first trip to his company. He’d met with Mr. Deer a couple of times over coffee at Starbucks and each time he’d returned lost in thought.

At first, she’d worried he’d slipped back into his remote, serious self. But his smile of pleasure at seeing her was open and honest, and it warmed her every time. This dad was so different. She felt guilty that she liked this dad so much more. He spent time with her, talked, joked, and yesterday before going to bed, he’d drawn her into a hug and whispered, “Thank you for everything, honey.”

It wasn’t all a bed of roses. Dad couldn’t cook worth a damn. He didn’t know his way around the kitchen. He knew what spices and herbs were, but didn’t have the foggiest about how much to use or which to use. He could make pasta, but overcooked it. He knew every cooking appliance in the kitchen but had forgotten what to make with them. Before, he could create a recipe out of thin air. Now, he was consulting his Smartphone.

However, getting used to him was fun. She’d asked for her allowance and, when he asked how much she’d get, she upped it to thirty-five dollars a week without him blinking.

Even more fun was asking him to let her pierce her ears and he had agreed she could! Before, he refused to let her.

Addison smiled to herself. She’d told him he used to work out regularly at the gym on Don Mills Road - a membership he’d bought and never used - and now he did! It replaced the gardening he used to do, which wasn’t great since the garden was beginning to look unkempt. Maybe she’d suggest he hire a service to take care of it; like the pool service they used.

Walking, Addison laughed to herself. Dad liked action movies now! He even liked popcorn!

Even better was cuddling at his side to watch movies together, his arm draped over her shoulders. He’d never been touchy-feely. Now he was and she loved it! She felt loved. She adored the look in his eyes when he’d study her, full of ... pride!

New Dad was almost too much for her. She loved New Dad and wanted to spend time with him instead of avoiding him. She knew how hard it was on him to adapt, but secretly, she was glad he’d suffered amnesia.

New Dad didn’t shave every morning. New Dad didn’t wear suits. New Dad laughed at his mistakes. New Dad was just better.

She turned into the long circular drive, noticing his car wasn’t there.

Dumping her backpack on the floor of her bedroom, she changed out of her school uniform. Finally, summer holidays!

Heading to the kitchen for a snack, she saw the mess in the living room - something Old Dad would never permit. Oddly, the mess bothered her. She started cleaning up.

Almost finished, Dad walked in the front door. In casual jeans and a T-shirt, his sandy hair mussed from driving with the window open, he noticed her, grinned, and announced, “Well, I know nothing.”

“So what’s new?” Addison asked with a laugh.

“Did you know the Don Valley Parkway is jam-packed from the bottom all the way to Lawrence?”

“Is it?”

Addison picked up the last empty plate and headed to the kitchen. He followed her.

“I don’t know anyone at work and they seem happy about it? What’s with that?”

Putting the plate in the dishwasher, Addison suggested, “Maybe they like the new you as much as I do.”

He sat at the kitchen table. “It’s hot. Is it always this hot?”

“No. It’s cold in winter,” she replied with another smile.

“I can’t code worth a damn, according to Richard. Apparently, that isn’t my strength. On the bright side, it’s going to rain tomorrow!”

“Why’s rain good?” Addison asked, rinsing her hands.

“For you, it’s nothing. I’ve never experienced rain. That’s something. I’m excited.”

Addison laughed and shook her head. “I can tell.”

Addison woke up dying of thirst. Her room was inky dark. She checked her Smartphone: two-twenty-four in the morning.

She rarely woke up in the middle of the night and never because she was so thirsty. It must have been the excessive soy sauce Dad used in the stir fry dinner ... which was pretty awful.

Sleepy, she got out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Oddly, as she approached the end of the hall, she saw a soft glow of light in the living room. She paused, glancing in.

Dad was sitting on one side of the couch, still dressed, one knee over the other, the side table lamp casting a soft light. He wasn’t watching TV. He wasn’t reading. He seemed to be looking off into the distance.

And then she saw his eyes. They were full of pain and confusion. Concern hit Addison, a wave of worry and annoyance. Over the past several weeks Dad had appeared so relaxed, as if he’d adapted to his condition, funny, sometimes goofy, always considerate; the New Dad. But, watching him, she realized he wasn’t better. Then another thought hit her: Dad had been bright and positive for her! He was still hurting and he’d hidden it for her!

Warm love washed through her, suffused, soft, her heart aching like she’d never experienced, almost painful. This dad was so different from before, so much better than before, so considerate.

Without a word, she moved silently, sitting next to him.

He automatically put his arm around her and smiled slightly, forced. “Hey, you. What are you doing up so late?”

“I was thirsty. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said quietly.

“Don’t lie, Dad. There’s something wrong. I can tell.”

A long moment of silence followed. Then he sighed. “It’s lonely in my head,” he told her.

Not understanding, Addison asked, “What do you mean, lonely?”

He caressed her shoulder. “When you sit quietly, alone, your mind fills the silence with memories and thoughts. They float, glimpses of events, feelings, good or bad. They keep you company. I have nothing. I have a silent void, a blank slate, no cherished memories to keep me company. I have nothing to look back on with fondness, and nothing to look back on with anger, or embarrassment, or pride. I have nothing to fill the emptiness. I haven’t figured out how to cope with it.”

He smiled slightly. “Nothing to worry about. Eventually I’ll adapt.”

Addison brought her knees up and cuddled closer. “I can help,” she said. “I can tell you about things that happened.”

Dad slipped his arm around her and squeezed. “Maybe. Stories won’t replace feelings or emotions. Don’t worry about it, honey. It is what it is.”

Cuddled to his side, Addison picked up his scent. It was different. She tried to understand why. Then it hit her. Dad used to wear aftershave. Now he didn’t. Now, his smell was different, cleaner, yet distinct and nicer.

“Well, you should get back to bed. I’m going, too,” he said, removing his arm.

Before he stood, he leaned in, smiled at her, his grey eyes soft, and kissed her cheek lightly. “Thanks for the company, sweetheart.”

Back in bed, Addison could still feel the spot on her cheek where he kissed her. Warmth permeated her body. She knew why. She adored him. She adored this dad, the one who spent time talking with her not at her, the one who hugged her, touched her unconsciously, the one who smiled with pleasure, who made her laugh, who made her feel special.

Surprising her, familiar feelings blossomed; the warmth of excitement, the gentle pulse below, the awakening of desire. In the quiet of her bedroom, Addison let those feelings grow, arousal suffusing her.

This time, for the first time ever, when she reached down into her pajamas to caress her panties, it was with images of Dad playing, of Dad laughing, of Dad being goofy. As she stroked herself, this time it was dreams of his scent and the soft brush of his lips on her cheek. This time, as her pussy responded, growing damp, flushed, her heart beating faster, it was Dad kissing her, Dad touching her, Dad making her so horny. And as her body built to a familiar climax, she reached inside her panties and diddled her clit faster imagining it was Dad bringing her pleasure, Dad loving her and, when her orgasm blossomed and erupted, she gasped quietly, wave after wave of pure ecstasy washing over her, Dad loving her, Dad touching her, God, so good Dad!

Perspiration cooled on her brow as she lay quietly, her heart still beating fast. This one had been so much more intense, her body liquid and languid, her panties damp. Strangely, she felt no shame for dreaming of Dad sexually. It felt good ... really good!