Finding Francesca

In the shower I scrub the grass from my legs and wash the sweat and dirt off. I'm stuck on this naked thing. Bare chested beside her today I judged my body pretty harshly, but it became quite comfortable. I'm just not so sure about the downstairs region. She's a beautiful confident young woman and probably had her share of lovers and suddenly I'm wondering how my equipment will stack up.

I'm six foot two and rather stocky. I guess dicks resemble their owners mostly. I'm a little longer than average and very thick. Not porn star long. I measured once. Well, Vanessa did out of curiosity and I'm exactly seven inches long. But I'm really fat, like I can't get my own fingers to meet around it. Not frighteningly so, but... and what if I get an erection? It's bound to happen; she's fucking insanely pretty and god damn it.

I'm attracted to her. I'm sexually attracted to her. My daughter's best friend. I'm a shit dad and bad man. I spoke to her father on the phone today and he thanked me for taking care of her and here I am thinking about her like I want to drag her by the hair into my cave and... "You're overthinking Paul." Vanessa tells me. "You always do."

"Suck it and see." I hear from just outside the door. "You're taking a long time. I'm going for a swim. Can you bring a couple of beers out when you join me?"

"Sure Chessie." I hang my towel and examine myself in the mirror. I reach for the door and my courage fails. Wrapping the towel around me I wander out to the garage fridge to get some beers then make my way poolside.

The evening sets, in lovely russet clouds and the pool reflects the red light in its ripples.

"Hi." She smiles from the edge. "Lose the towel Pauly, you're making me feel awkward now."

Handing her a beer I'm thinking how to do this. Should I just stand and drop it or turn around or... Now it's redundant anyway because a giggling mischief of a woman has just tugged on it and it's fallen to the tiles around me leaving me starkers for all the world to see.

"You've got a nice dick." She says opening her beer. "I didn't get to see it the other day. I wondered if oh..."

All this talk of dicks has woken the man downstairs.

"Oh wow."

Embarrassed I slip quickly into the water a respectable distance from her. "Sorry Chessie, he has a mind of his own."

She's quiet for a while so I breaststroke lazily to the deep end and back a couple of times. The activity and the cool of the water seem to lessen my tumescence. A thought strikes me, so I paddle to the edge where she floats with her arms on the side and her beautiful breasts glowing with the dying light.

"So, you said you've worked out your thing?"

She nods and her tongue wets her lips like she's going to say something but checks herself.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet. After tea we'll talk. Hey where do you buy jackets and helmets?"

"What, oh. Most bike shops. I reckon you could get better deals online, but I like to try things on before I buy so I know they- Why?"

"Because we're going to talk later and regardless of how that conversation ends you have to promise me that you are going to take me on a bike ride at least every month, okay? I had a dreamy day. I haven't felt this way in ages and it's because you took me on your bike. Please Paul. Promise me."

"Of course, Chessie. Now I'm a bit worried about 'talking later'." I say it in a deliberately deep and serious voice.

"Don't be." She bites her lip. "Just probably silly anyway."

"Women." I shake my head. "Always making things into mysteries and enigmas." For good measure I splash water on her serious head bringing a fit of giggles and swift and brutal retaliation. I try to turn away from her flurry of splashed water and suddenly she's grabbed me around the neck piggy back style and pushing me under the water. I really should have struggled harder but the press of her wet young flesh against mine was being stored for later access in the masturbatory troves.

Relenting finally, she lets me up out of the water to breathe and pulls my face to hers for a kiss. This time while her pretty lips press against mine, she doesn't end it. I do when her tongue pokes at my lips. Shocked, I withdraw and hate myself for the look of disappointment in her eyes. My god, does she have feelings for me?

"Sorry. I got a bit carried away Paul." She blushes and turns to leave the pool. My heart and body want me to stop her and scoop her up and finish that brilliant kiss quite properly. My head is telling me how young she is and that she's my daughter's friend and she deserves so much more than a broken, dirty old man like me.

"Hey." I call after her and when she stops and turns, I don't know what to say.

She waits patiently looking fucking fantastic silhouetted against the sunset. "Um. Thank you dfor a great day too, Chessie. I haven't felt this relaxed and young and silly in a long time. Any time in the world you want to sit on the back of my bike, the seat is yours. You're a good kid."

Then she turns swiftly and walks inside without saying anything. It's not until she stops at the screen door that I realise she's crying. Her shoulders shrug in time with her sobs and I wonder what I've said or done and fuck. I'd been having such a good day.

I'm so worried for her feelings in fact that when I've towelled off and returned to find her fiddling with settings in the lounge, I pull her to sit on my lap and hug her tightly forgetting entirely that we're both naked. "You okay? What did I say? What did I do?"

She snuggles close and gives a little brisk shake of her head. "Shh. Dinner, wine, lasagne then talking. Please Pauly? Please?"

I nod and she melts against me. What's weird is it feels like she belongs there. The only reason I finally remember that I'm pressed against her naked is that when she sits away from me to look me squarely in the eyes and say, "Help me with serving? I'm hopeless at getting it out of the pan," her breasts stick slightly to me.

"Sure darlin."

We sit and the act of eating together, the etiquette and ceremony, dictate a cadence through the awkwardness and soon we are laughing and conversing freely. She tells me that Delia might have a boyfriend. That she had hooked up with the same guy every weekend for the last month and that they were hanging out occasionally through the week or whenever they could.

"He's actually pretty nice and he ticks her checklist. He has a car, doesn't live with his parents, has a job and oh, you probably don't need the whole list." She laughs. "Anyway, don't tell her I told you. I'm sworn not to talk about guys to you."

That sort of gets me thinking about Chessie. "If it's not rude, can I ask how come you're single? You're smoking hot, thoughtful, cook like a chef, seriously this is fucking fantastic, and your obviously not psycho. How come you're not with someone?"

I'm serious in my question and she looks at me for long moments then tops up our glasses before replying. "I trust you, so I'll tell you why. After I left fuckwit, I hooked up now and then with guys. One or two even lasted a few months but I got really tired of the game. I don't want that. I don't want just sex. I want intimacy. Being married was lovely. I loved how close and comfortable it was and that made each hook up feel grotty and empty. I'm not twenty-two like Delie. I'm not slut shaming or anything, she's not a slut, she's a healthy kid enjoying her body, but I'm older. I turn thirty soon. I want kids and family and someone to cook for, someone to come home to every night and wake up to every day. So, it's really hard to find that. Guys my age are like parking spaces, taken or disabled. Mostly they just want to fuck or cheat on their girlfriends. For me, it's readily available. I know I'm reasonable looking but it's all about quality control. I need to... I really want to... make sure I get what I want. The real thing... And I don't think you can find that on tinder or in a club."

"Wow." I tell her honestly.

"So, while I'm yabbering, let's have this talk Pauly. Please listen and please be, you. Just be you."

"Okay..." I sip my wine and top our glasses. I've forgotten that I'm completely naked. I've forgotten that a Eurasian beauty sits cross legged naked directly across the glass topped coffee table. All I know is her soft brown eyes looking timidly into mine.

"So... First things first." She takes a deep breath closes her eyes and holds out her hand waiting until I take it in mine before she exhales and smiles, "I've had the most ridiculous little girl crush on you for the last four years. There."

"Haha, what? You're joking."

"Not even a bit. I love the way you loved Vanessa and I love the way you love Delia. My own family are lovely but we're all very dignified and distant. At first it was just a little girl, daddy issues crush, and I just enjoyed feeling silly about it. I've even fessed up to Del's about it."

"Jesus, she would have been brutal." I laugh.

"You've no idea." She shakes her head and smiles, "That night, oh... For me, it's that night. For you it's probably just 'a' night. But we were watching a movie and you fell asleep cuddling me. While you were asleep, I took your hand and put it up my shirt." She giggles and blushes beautifully before continuing.

"I felt like at least if I couldn't have the whole beautiful man to love me like I wanted, I could just pretend for a little while. It was a bit dumb, but it felt so damn good. I fell asleep like that too. I don't know if you knew that. I'm sorry if it makes you feel awkward. Anyway, that night was when my little girl crush changed."

"Changed?" My glass is empty. She's been talking, I've been listening and drinking. She takes the time while I top us up to think then continues.

"I began to see you as a man. A lonely, lovely, gentle, man who deserved a hell of a lot more. I remember when you tried dating and wished so hard for you that it worked. I wanted you to have that thing I wanted too. Someone to love, someone to come home to, someone to wake up to.

"I wondered why you always needed the blow by blow and I thought it was just to embarrass fuck out of Delia."

"Didn't she just squirm deliciously though." She laughs and I'm glad to see her face not serious.

"So, anyway, the other day when I broke into your back yard, stripped off and fingered myself..." She rolls her eyes and goes red to the neckline, "While you cuddled me, do you remember? God, it was the perfect thing to do. You spoke gently and just plain..." She looks for her next sentence in her wine glass.

"I wasn't sure. I didn't think I was embarrassed about the nudity. I like my body. I'd like smaller breasts, I'd like a bigger bum, but I like it. I didn't think I was embarrassed about your nudity or checking myself before I put my bikini on. I was pretty certain it was that my crush had changed again without me knowing. I think that moment let me see you as a sexual being. Do you understand?"

"I guess. I've been seeing you a lot differently since too and feeling like a dirty old man."

She pats my face and smiles. "Not so old. I told you that the other day too. You're only what, thirteen, fourteen, years older than me. "

"Still downtown dirty-old-mansville on google maps, darlin. And you're my daughter's best friend. How creepy is perving on you and chubbing up while I lotion your chest?"

"My dad is twenty-one years older than my mother."

"Really? Fuck."

"Yup, he's almost sixty-eight. They met on a flight from Hong Kong. She was a stewardess and he was the BOB."

"BOB?"

"'Best on board', she calls it. Best looking man on board. Would you believe their first time was at seven miles above the earth? Grotty buggers still tell the story when they've had a few drinks."

"Bloody hell."

"My point is that culturally for people of Italian and Chinese heritage, age gaps are not so important. In fact, a woman is believed quite lucky to find a steady, financially stable older man. But here we are."

"Here we are." I say sipping on my wine searching it for a map or even a hint at how to navigate this moment.

"So, Paul. I worked it out. I worked my thing that I was thinking about out. I know you are physically attracted to me. Thanks for the sunscreen by the way."

"Um... My pleasure?"

"Mine too, god you've got good hands. But I know you're also struggling with the concept. I know you're struggling with loyalty to Vanessa and I admire that. I know you're struggling with loyalty to Delia and I admire that too. That's why I needed to get some dutch courage and have this awkward chat. I needed to express my feelings and let you come to terms with them and make your own decisions."

"So why the nudity?"

"Good question." She thinks and drinks and rubs my hand which hasn't left hers since this weird thing started.

"One. I like looking at you naked. You're a strong looking, grrrr... hmmph. I just like it. And secondly, it's weird... Look every relationship I've ever had has started with physical attraction. I hooked up with someone because they looked good and turned me on and then I tried to build a relationship on it. I think that's ultimately why they failed. But with you... I had this massive crush on you. I had feelings first and I needed, wanted to see if there was a physical attraction as well."

"Okay..." I'm bushed. I've never been really flash at these long emotional conversations. My best communication is done with tools and grunts.

"So, here's the thing. I think I could fall in love with you Paul. If I let myself, I'd be head over heels and the happiest pillion passenger you ever had. But you have to work out if you could let yourself fall in love again. And if you could fall in love with your daughter's friend who is a few years younger than you."

I nod and purse my lips. This is the single most honest conversation I've had in my entire fucking life and I don't want to misstep and fuck it up with a casual or offhanded comment. So, I brush my beard and look seriously back into those beautiful eyes.

"Thanks for trusting me Chessie. This must have been a..."

"Big deal. Yup."

I squeeze her hand.

"And Paul. This is what happens now. Okay?"

"Ha!" I snort, "Thanks, I'd really like a bit of direction now love."

"Love." She wrinkles her nose at me, "I like that even better than Chessie. So now..." She inhales then says in a Sean Connery impersonation, "Your mission should you choose to accept it."

"Now," she continues seriously, "you are going to help me stack the dishwasher. I'M going to pick a move. I think you have an unhealthy fixation with young Miss Beckingsale mister. We are going to snuggle naked; you are going to let me sleep in your bed again. God, I had the best sleep last night. And tomorrow you are going to go to work and think about how you feel. You with me so far."

"All the way." And I am. Movies and snuggling and thinking seem like a great idea.

"And tomorrow I'm going to swim, cook, laze about naked and think about you. This part is super important... You take as long as you like to think and I want you to know that I'm happy being your daughter's best friend, your pillion and just plain your friend. I'll happily keep just that for the rest of time. But now, if you think you could handle maybe a little more, you know how I feel, and you can decide if you'd like to take a step in that direction."

My wine is empty and so is hers. I'm thankful for the timely distraction of de-corking a fresh bottle.

"And Paul?"

"Yes love."

"Stress less. I'm a big girl. I'm good with my feelings and you won't hurt me if you just decide you want an enthusiastic pillion and never ask me out on a date."

We watched four episodes of something with Jason Mamoa in it. We finished that second bottle of wine. She pulled my hand from around her shoulder to rest it cupping her left breast and it felt so normal that the man downstairs stayed humble. We slept naked, curled up like it was nothing at all and we, well at least I, dreamed well and simply. I dreamed of Nessy.

She was standing at the end of that rock wall we had walked on today. Waving at me and smiling as I turned away and took Francesca's hand to walk back to the little beach. I looked back to find her gone and woke to the sounds of the factory ringtone on my mobile.

A sleepy tussled mop of almost black brown hair grumbled, "I'm changing that fucking tone this evening. Kiss me before you leave."

"Okay love."

After a shower, a coffee and a good old poop, I took my well rested, strangely happy self to my bedroom where a drooling open-mouthed explosion of hair sprawled naked across my bed. I bent and kissed her on the forehead, and she mumbled something. Then I rode to the office and re-entered the mundane dungeon of my existence. I thought very little through the day. I felt a lot.

I felt firstly that choosing to take things further with Chessie would be a massive slap to Delia. Dad's just simply don't date, or predate like I wanted to even, their daughter's friends.

I felt secondly that Chessie deserved so much more than me. I mean what am I? Forty-three, for god's sake. She wants children. If I had kids now, Jesus... She's fucking beautiful. Could I even keep up? I felt old.

I felt like I had had the third most wonderful day of my entire life yesterday. The first was my wedding to Nessie, the second the birth of Delia eight months later. And there it was. The truth was that I was falling in love with Chessie, I just had to let go of the grip I had on my own doubts. Fuck.

At lunch I sat in the little park across from our office and ate my Subway, feeding crumbs to the pigeons and smiling like a wanker. My phone rang and by the time I put my sub down and thumbed it open I'd missed a call from Delia. There was a voice mail message. I figured I'd get it later and popped it back in my pocket. I'd speak with her this evening when I had time for a proper conversation and then I'd speak more with Fran.

Who, I was picturing naked, towelling at her hair, smiling at my confusion and being gloriously naked in my living room when it hit me. From behind. Fucking hard. I heard the squeal of locked up wheels while I sat at the lights and waited. I looked left and right for the noise and 'then', as I was thrown forward through the Perspex fairing to tumble through the air before hitting the ground about twenty metres away, my arm outstretched to stop me, my head following it into the bitumen, my bike being pushed towards me under the bulbar of the SUV, 'then', I wondered if I'd ever get to have those conversations as the noise returned and the pain started and the world went black.

"Dad."

"Paul."

My eyes blinked but couldn't focus. I squinted hard and tried to see. The light was so damned bright. It stung my eyes and I closed them tightly. She reached out to me. I saw her there. She smiled and looked so well. So much like she did before the chemo. Then she slapped me really hard. I jerked almost upright.

"Don't fuck this up you wanker."

Then she slapped me again. This time I felt it. The pain. It shot through my whole body like knives. She held me against her and told me, "I'm leaving now. You're staying here and you are going to get fucking happy. Do you hear me."

"Yes." I said.

"Pauly please?" I heard.

The darkness folded me closely in its arms and held me through my pain. I felt movement and tugging and then I slept. I slept like I was wrapped around Chessie again. My bed was warm and smelled of...

Hospital... I heard groaning. I smelled cleaning fluids and sterile things. I heard voices and machines and I felt numb. All over.

"Dad!" I felt someone touch my face and then wet things. My eyes opened but I felt like I was still sleeping.

"Delie?" I asked the brightness. "You there?"