Chapter 1

She wasn’t biologically mine. Her mother had been three months pregnant when I met her, but my name “Nicholas” was on Daniella’s birth certificate as her father. I’d married her mother before she was born, changed her diapers, taught her to tie her shoes, and bandaged her elbow the first time she fell off her bike. I loved her like she was my own child, but sometimes wished I didn’t.

Her mother passed away when she was in middle school, and we’d helped each other through the grief and loss. The memories were still painful, and Daniella only seemed to talk about her mother when she was in trouble or wanted something. I heard great sadness and embarrassment in her voice as she pleaded, “I’m so, so sorry, Daddy. I really am. Since we lost Mom, you’re all I have. Can I please come home?”

My daughter was 23 and from the time we lost her mother, she seemed to fail and disappoint me constantly. She had waited until the middle of her fifth year of college to tell me she wasn’t going to graduate, and wasn’t even close.

She had kept giving me reasons she wanted to change schools to be with a boyfriend, or because a certain professor was great. She never mentioned having any trouble. She’d attended four colleges and been kicked out of three of them. In nine semesters, she had passed only Intro to Watercolors, Intro to Oil Painting, Piano 1 and 2, and Lifeguard Training.

She could swim well, play piano, and paint a little. I’d paid nearly a hundred grand for that! I’d also paid for an abortion when she was 18 and reckless, and another when she was 20 and still reckless. When she was 21, I bailed her out of jail after she was caught holding drugs for a boyfriend. Only a month after that, I bailed her out again and replaced her car, after she collided with a tree one drunken night.

Instead of coming home to visit with happy stories on Thanksgiving weekend, she was retreating in failure. But she was still my daughter and I loved her. “Of course, sweetie. You’re always welcome here. When will you be driving back?”

“Daddy, I ... please don’t be mad. Can you send me a bus ticket? I lost my car. I had a bunch of parking and speeding tickets and didn’t pay them, so it got taken away. They suspended my license too.”

“TWO CARS, IN TWO YEARS!” I tried to calm myself. “I ... I ... I’ll book you a flight for tomorrow. I don’t want you riding a bus halfway across the country.”

“And Daddy, I don’t know how to tell you this...”

I grumpily asked, “Just say it. What else? Are you pregnant again?”

“No. I uh ... Daddy, please think of Mom? I ah ... I kind of got married. My wife Melissa needs a place to stay too, and some money to pay her fines. Daddy, I know it’s a big deal, but can she...”

I never had before, but I truly lost my temper with her. “Dammit, Daniella! You got MARRIED and didn’t tell me! And to a woman who’s in trouble with the law! What the FUCK were you thinking! WERE you even thinking? HOW THE HELL...”

I struggled to be reasonable and shouted less as I finished. “I’ll get you both a flight. You come straight here! Don’t do anything else! You just get your ASS home! I’m making some BIG changes!” For the first time ever, I angrily hung up on her.

An hour later I emailed her the flight information with a note: ‘When I meet you at the airport, don’t you dare talk to me! I don’t want to hear it! You don’t say anything to me until we get home! I’ll tell you the new rules and the way things are going to be! Tell your WIFE too! If you want to live in MY house and spend MY money, you’ll live by MY rules, and be thankful you can!’

She replied, ‘I love you. Thank you, Daddy.’ I loved her too, but wondered why caring about her had to be so FUCKING difficult, so DAMN often.

I tried to control my temper as I waited for them at the airport. I kept trying to figure out how things had gone so wrong. Were her terrible choices my fault somehow?

Because of the chilly weather, they wore heavy winter coats and stocking caps. I saw Daniella had braided her long red hair into pigtails and wore tiny gold star earrings. The stars reminded me of the last time she had done well in school. She was the proudest little girl in the world to get 100% on a 7th grade math test. Her hair reminded me of the time her mother taught her to braid it when she was 8 or 9.

Her ‘wife’ Melissa was the same age but half a head taller, with short bleached blonde hair and obvious dark roots. She had six earrings in each ear and large hearts tattooed on the backs of her hands. In the middle of each heart, two women were kissing. I didn’t like them. Tattoos belong on sailors, not young girls.

As they approached me, they put lollipops in their mouths. On the drive home they didn’t say anything, and I had a hard time staying angry. I was taking my daughter home again. I nostalgically remembered driving along the same streets when I had picked her up at the hospital the week she was born, along with her dear departed mother.

At home I walked to my usual seat, the recliner. Daniella took off her coat and sat on the couch, still sucking her lollipop. She wore tight jeans and a light green halter top, which revealed yet another big surprise. When I last saw her half a year before she had the same shape I was used to, with a nearly flat chest. Her new and obviously fake boobs were BIG, I thought at least ‘D’s!

Her wife Melissa walked toward me and said, “Before you give us the rules, I just want to say, ‘Thank you’ and give you a hug.” I noticed she had a gold stud through her tongue, which I thought was disgusting. She dropped her long coat and was only wearing a thin white bikini underneath! I could see the shape of her nipples, and her breasts were even bigger than my daughter’s new ones!

She hugged me lightly and said, “If my wife loves you, I love you too, Daddy.” Tattoos covered most of her legs and back too, but I could see most of her sexy ass. She kissed me on the cheek and I realized she was trying hard to seduce me. I knew, but it was starting to work anyway. As she turned and sat on the sofa, I could see some bleached pubic hairs sticking out the side of her bikini bottoms!

My daughter took the lollipop out of her mouth and asked, “So, what are the new rules, Daddy? We want to be good.” She started twirling one of her pigtails with a finger.

“I uh ... the uh ... the new rules.” I mentally forced my growing penis to behave and picked up my notepad.

“One – If you live here, you follow ALL the rules, with no arguments. If you break any rules, or try to argue about them with me, you can leave.

Two – No boyfriends in your bedroom ... or girlfriends, except the one you’re married to.

Three – Next week I’ll help you look for jobs. You’ll have a job and pay rent when you can afford it, or do volunteer work at least 3 days a week.

Four – Unless you’re at work, I want you home by 8pm every night, no exceptions.

Five – No booze or drugs, period! You’re going to take a drug test at least once a month, until I’m sure I can trust you again.

Six – No loud noise if somebody is trying to sleep, and I don’t want people running all over the house late at night. I want you in your room by midnight.

Seven – Keep the place clean. You’ll wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen and bathrooms every day. Wash your laundry, and don’t leave dirty clothes all over.

Do you have any questions about the rules? Do you need anything?”

Danni made a popping sound as she took out her lollipop and said, “We’re out of cigarettes, and can we smoke in the house?”

I reluctantly handed her some cash. “I don’t like it, but you’re over 21. You know where the gas station is, two blocks down. You can smoke in the back yard, but not in the house.”

She picked up her jacket. “Thanks Daddy. I’ll be back soon. Please show Melly around.”

As she walked out I decided to rip the rest of the bandage off quickly, and find out the rest of the bad news I was expecting. I’d been down the same road several times before.

“So, Melly, she said you need to pay some fines?”

She nervously chewed the edge of a fingernail. “Um ... yeah. Each of us need to pay $400 for the time we got busted for prostitution.”