I had never known until that night what people meant when they talk about having their “heart in their throat”. My neighbor’s little pickup took the hospital exit off the freeway faster than I knew was possible. Fortunately there was little traffic in general, and no cars at all on the exit ramp. It was not my neighbor’s driving that had my throat constricting so that I felt my pulse there, however. That began when I got the phone call from the police.
“Mr. Fredricksen?” The impartial voice came through the line. After confirming I was myself, I heard words that are among the most dreaded to hear over the phone – or any other way, for that matter. “I’m afraid there’s been an accident…” My wife, Claire, and my stepdaughter, Charlie, had wrecked the car. They had been taken to the hospital by the paramedics. That was all he could tell me on the phone. I ran next door to draft Jimmy for a ride. My own pickup was in the garage, but I knew I couldn’t trust my driving right then.
Our car had been totaled and both the women in my life were now in the emergency room. The truck’s tires squealed as Jimmy twisted the wheel to bring the vehicle under the canopy outside the emergency entrance. We’d hardly stopped moving when I bailed out. I ran inside while he went to park. The attendant at the desk told me that my wife was in surgery.
“What about Charlie?” I demanded. The nurse frowned.
“I understood it was a young girl…” she scanned the clipboard.
“Yes! Charlie… Charlene! Our daughter! How is she?” I knew I was nearly shouting, but I was scared.
“She’ll be fine…” the nurse didn’t get the chance to continue.
Just as my consciousness registered Jimmy’s arrival at my side, a female voice behind me said, “Mr. Fredricksen?” I spun around and found myself facing an impossibly young woman in a white doctor’s smock. She had the requisite stethoscope draped over her neck. She took the clipboard from the nurse and penned some entries on it. Handing it back, she turned me with a hand on my shoulder and we walked away from the admission desk.
“As the nurse told you, your daughter is fine. She fractured her right forearm and there are some lacerations to her hands. You can go see her in just a moment. She is as anxious to see you as you are her. Your wife suffered more serious injuries, I’m afraid.” Her voice had a calming effect on me. My heart clenched at her words. Still, she was calm. It couldn’t be that bad, but she hadn’t told me yet. I tried to control my imagination.
“Why is she in surgery?” I asked.
“Relax. It isn’t that serious. Her right femur – thigh bone – had a compound fracture, but the x-rays showed that there was also extensive damage to her tibia, the shinbone of the same leg. So much that it necessitated placing some ‘hardware’ in to repair it. The doctors should be finishing up in another couple of hours.” The doctor told me that my wife was under a general anesthetic. Whenever they used a general, she said, the patient had to remain in the hospital at least overnight. Since Claire’s surgery entailed insertion of steel pins, she would be in there for a few days longer to monitor her for infection or rejection.
Jimmy waited in Emergency while the doctor took me to the second floor recovery room, where Charlie was resting. I almost cried when I saw our beautiful eighteen year old girl. Both eyes were black and her right arm was in a cast. Her hands were wrapped in thick bandages and another length of gauze bandage was wrapped around her forehead like a headband. I thought she was asleep, but our voices caused her to raise her head and turn toward the door. She croaked out a pitiful, “Daddy…” that broke my heart. I rushed across the room and stood beside her. I just stopped myself from taking her hand. Instead I settled for a hand on her gowned shoulder. Her cheek was undamaged and I bent to kiss it. Then she rasped, “Water?”
I held the plastic straw to her lips and she sipped gratefully. The doctor checked her over briefly and told her that her mother was going to be fine. I saw the relief on Charlie’s face. The doctor told us both then that Charlie could leave as soon as the paperwork was ready.
“Or, if you don’t feel quite up to it, you can stay a while longer,” she told her. Charlie said she wanted to rest a little bit longer.
“What about my wife?” I asked the doctor.
“If you want to wait either here or in the waiting room, we’ll let you know as soon as she is out of the O.R. As I said, she’ll be unconscious until late tonight. You won’t be able to talk to her, but you can see her before you go.”
Charlie tried to sit up, but she was woozy from the anesthetic. “Mom had to have surgery? I thought she just had a broken leg?” I let the doctor explain. Then she said that we could stay as long as we needed. She would have the discharge papers left at the desk for us. She turned and her squeaking footsteps faded down the hallway.
I turned back to my daughter. She had become so dear to me in the short time she had been in my life. I had married her mom only maternal izle two years before, about the time Charlie turned thirteen. It was kind of a rocky start for Charlie and me. She didn’t like the idea of a new man in her mother’s life after the divorce. But my sense of humor and – more likely – my cooking charmed her. Now we were real buddies. We lived the father / daughter roles, but our relationship was more complicated than that. We loved each other as a father and daughter would, but there was an element of friendship that rarely, if ever, exists between a blood parent and child.
I had acknowledged to myself when Charlie started to develop that I had some sexual feelings toward her, though I knew they had to live and die inside my head only. I didn’t want to risk losing either my wife or Charlie’s love and trust by doing something stupid. Even those times when Charlie acted as if she was flirting with me, I chalked up to hormones and feeling her way around the new world of puberty. Now I looked down at her with her black eyes.
“Uh… Honey?” I said.
“Yeah?”
“I hate to tell you this, but… you look…” I cleared my throat for effect. “Well, you look kind of…” I watched the anticipation build as I dragged it out. “… well, kind of like a… raccoon.” Charlie had just taken another sip of water. She sprayed it into the air (and on me) and jerked up as I laughed.
“Owowow,” she groaned, holding her plastered arm. Then she relaxed again. “My head and stomach hurt, Daddy!” Then she made a face and added in a mock whisper, “Asshole!” I chuckled again.
“But you’re a pretty little raccoon, Honey,” I said. She just stuck her tongue out and lay back on her pillow.
By eleven that night we received word that Claire was in recovery. Everything had gone according to the book. After looking in on her, we decided we might as well go on home. Charlie was ready to go, since she was so worn out. The orderly wheeled her down while I went to the waiting room to get the papers and ask Jimmy to bring the truck around.
Charlie leaned her head on my chest all the way home. Jimmy said goodnight and I thanked him as we went into the house. I helped Charlie to the couch and got her set up there with pillows and a blanket. She asked for ice cream so I brought a dish for her from the kitchen. Between the spoonfuls I fed her, she told me how the other vehicle had run the stop sign and plowed into the passenger side of our car. Charlie had waited until she was eighteen to get a learner’s permit. She had been driving, so it was her mom who took the brunt of the crash instead of her. She said she thought at first the other guy had been drunk, but the police had told her he was just on his cell phone. Chalk up another one to modern technological stupidity, I thought.
We sat and watched TV for a while, despite the late hour. Around midnight I saw her nodding. “Do you want me to help you up to bed, Honey? Or would you rather sleep here?” I asked. Her legs were sore and bruised, but not really injured. She could handle the stairs, but I sleep downstairs. If she needed anything in the night, it would be easier to get me if she was down there.
“I think I’ll stay here, but…” She hesitated uncomfortably; looking at her softball sized bandaged hands. I waited. “But I have to pee!” she sounded so pitiful again. At first I didn’t understand. Then it came in a flash: I had to help her. I would have to tend her; not only to pee, but for everything she would normally do with her hands. I know it makes me sound like some kind of pervert, but it gave me a little thrill knowing that I’d have to wipe her and wash her for at least the next few days. The nature of our relationship dictated my response. I laughed. She looked furious for a second, and then she cracked up, finding as much humor in the situation as I was.
“You’d better be very nice to me, young lady. I can make you very uncomfortable if you aren’t,” I made myself sound as much in charge as I could.
“If you make me pee my pants, you’ll be the one who has to clean it all up!” she countered. I saw her blush as the import of her own words sank into her mind. I ignored it and helped her off the couch and into the bathroom. I stood behind her as I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down. Her panties followed and I discreetly made a point of not looking at her nudity as I helped her to sit. I left while she peed. When she called me back in, I saw that her face was beet red. I was very businesslike as I rolled a small wad of toilet tissue up and helped her to half stand. She spread her legs and I wiped her. That was when I realized she shaved her pubic hair.
“Oh, God!” she groaned in embarrassment.
“No big deal,” I said as I pulled up her panties (she didn’t want to sleep in her jeans, so I pulled them from her ankles and dropped them into the hamper) and walked her back to the couch. She got comfortable and I bent to tuck the blanket around her and to kiss her good night. She put her good arm around my neck and hugged me method izle tight. “I’m so glad you and your mom are going to be okay,” I told her. “If you need anything, just holler,” I said. Then I went to bed. As I lay there in the dark I tried not to think too hard about my job for the next few days.
The next morning I woke up early but groggy from staying up so late and the adrenaline rush the whole thing had given me. I walked through the living room to the kitchen. Charlie was still sleeping. I heard her call me as I turned the coffee on. She had to pee again. We repeated the routine from the previous night and she didn’t seem as uncomfortable. I looked at her crotch as I wiped it. That morning I didn’t make any effort not to look. It was so beautiful and soft. Charlie’s hand on my shoulder tightened a little bit as I patted her dry. I glanced at her. Her eyes were closed. I wondered what effect our forced intimacy was having on her.
Back in the living room we sat and drank coffee (Charlie sipped hers through a straw) with the morning news. There was a short blip about the accident. The other driver, too, was still in the hospital. “Good!” Charlie said. “He deserves it for being such an asshole! Goddamn cell phones!”
Her parents had never been the kind to censor their children’s language, except to the extent of discretion in public. At home they could talk the way they wanted. Both Charlie and her older sister swore as much as their mother – and me, for that matter. Kim, the older daughter was married and in England with her husband. I made a mental note to call her and let her know about the accident.
Charlie surfed through the channels and I watched Charlie. She hadn’t covered up again when she sat down. I looked at her long smooth legs and her tiny green panties. The tee-shirt stopped at her navel. She had cut her blonde hair short just a month before and it was definitely ‘bed head’ that morning. I saw that it was almost seven. I wanted to get to the hospital to see my wife. It was a puzzle what Charlie should do, though. I could hardly help her in a public ladies room. I asked her what she thought.
“I’ll call Jenny. Today is her day off. Maybe she can come and stay with me.” Jenny was her best friend in school.
“Okay, but it’s too early for that, isn’t it?”
“Well, if I need help before I call her, I’ll try Marge.” Marge is Jimmy’s wife. I was sure she would be happy to help. I’d clear it with her before I left.
I spent the morning with Claire. I’d brought a deck of cards, magazines, the book she was currently reading, as well as clothes for her to wear when she got released. She showed me the device they’d placed on her leg. It was a new development that maintained the proper stress on the bones in lieu of her having to be in traction. All morning she drifted off in mid-sentence from the lingering effects of the anesthetic.
When they started wheeling the lunch cart down the hall, she kicked me out, telling me to go home and take care of Charlie. I was grateful for that. I dislike being in hospitals – even when I’m just visiting. I just get bored.
At home, Charlie and Jenny were on the couch. The stereo was on loud. When I walked in I turned it down. I was rewarded with twin raspberries from the girls. I asked Jenny how long she could stay, since I had some work to do in my office. She said she had to be at the dentist at 3:00, but she could stay until about twenty to 3. It was just 12:30 so that would work out okay for me. I thanked her and went into my office.
A few minutes later, I needed some papers from my briefcase, which I’d left in my bedroom. I had to pass through the living room on the way. I was in my socks and the thick carpeting made my progress silent. The girls were still on the couch. Their backs were toward me. They obviously didn’t realize I was there. They suddenly giggled.
Charlie whispered, “You should have seen his face when he saw I didn’t have any pubes!” They laughed and I just stopped to listen.
Jenny asked if it made her wet when I wiped her. Charlie just groaned! I suddenly felt exposed so I tiptoed back into the hallway, just out of sight. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. Was Charlie sexually active? I shook my head, and then strained my ears to hear them.
“You know,” Jenny’s whisper was raspy. “You’re gonna have to take a bath sooner or later. Gary will have to do the duties.” I had already had the same thought. My face got hot then.
“I know!” Charlie said. “I can’t wait! His strong hands will be all over me then.”
“God!” Jenny replied, fidgeting on the couch. “I’m so jealous! Gary is such a hunk, even if he is so old.” I reared back at that. I’m only forty two. Then I smirked at myself. Of course to eighteen year olds I’m ancient. Still, I thought, I have heard many women wax romantic over Sean Connery. He’s in his seventies now. That was one of the few things Charlie and Claire agreed upon. Sean was a hunk to all womankind, apparently.
I didn’t want to hear any more. I silently retreated milf manor izle to the office, then coughed and made some noise as I came out. The girls turned to look at me as I crossed the room. Briefcase in hand, I returned to the office and closed the door.
“Daddy?” Charlie’s voice came from the open door of the office. Jenny had gone to her appointment. Charlie stood in the hall outside my office. From the way she fidgeted, I knew she had to go again. I smiled and we went down the hall to the bathroom. “Um… I think you’ll want to go out for a while,” she said. Her face had taken on the deep red she’d worn the first time I had helped her. Then I realized she had to take a dump.
“Oh! Yeah, you’re right about that! I’ve smelled your stink before.” She stuck her tongue out, but I knew it was what she needed. I had to make things seem as normal as possible to ease her embarrassment. I pulled the door almost closed and went into the living room.
A few minutes later, I heard the toilet flush and Charlie called me back. We went through the supremely embarrassing routine of me wiping her pretty little ass. Then she said, “Can I have a bath, Daddy?” I don’t think she noticed my brief hesitation.
“Of course you can, Honey. Just let me finish one thing in the office.” I went back into the hall. I didn’t have anything to do in the office; I just needed a second to prepare myself. I had only seen her naked once before, back just after Claire and I married. Being a new stepfather, I had just burst into the bathroom one night just as Charlie had stepped out of the shower. She screeched and covered herself with a towel. I apologized profusely and the incident was forgotten. That was before she has sprouted her little titties, though. I didn’t really see anything, either. Now I was going to give her a bath. I gulped and returned to the bathroom.
Charlie was trying to struggle out of her tee-shirt. She had it partially off her head.
While she was blinded by the shirt, I looked at her bra covered breasts. They looked larger than I had thought them to be, but still small. I laughed and she snorted. “Here, Honey, let me do it.” I got the shirt off and started the water filling the tub. She sat in her underwear and waited while the tub filled. On an impulse, I dumped some bubble bath into the flow. Suds soon began to billow up. We talked about her injuries. She said they didn’t really hurt much. I left the room and retrieved some plastic bags from the kitchen. I taped them over her cast and bandages as insurance.
When the tub was full of water and suds, I stood up. I smiled at her and she reddened again. She stood up and turned her back to me. I unhooked her bra. She shrugged it off her arms and let it drop. Then I knelt to slide her panties down. Her round butt was inches from my face. To lighten the mood, I gave her a swat. She squealed and slapped backward toward me, missing because she couldn’t see where she was aiming. She stepped one foot into the tub. When she tried to put her other foot in, she slipped. I grabbed her, my arm going around her middle. My other hand ended up on her hip, just below her waist, and half on her ass. “Be careful, Honey!” I said.
She sank into the covering suds quickly. “It was your fault!” she said. “I was hurrying so you wouldn’t swat my ass again.”
“Bullshit!” I said. “You were just in a hurry because you didn’t want me looking at your skinny little body.”
“Bite me,” she said, but there was a grin on her face. I knelt on the bath mat and took up the washrag and soap. Charlie leaned back and closed her eyes. “This feels great! I was getting tired of smelling myself.” I laughed and wondered where to start. Then I knew. I put the soap and washrag back on the edge of the tub.
I had her turn around so her back was toward the faucet. I lifted the shower head from its bracket and turned on the water. After adjusting it, I told her to lean back. I got her hair wet and twisted the ring to close the shower without turning it off at the tap. I shampooed her hair and she groaned with enjoyment. It reminded me of the groan I’d heard when she and Jenny were talking. Under my jeans, I felt my dick begin to stir. While her eyes were still closed, I glanced at her budding breasts. They were little hillocks on her chest, dusted now with suds. The nipples were bright pink and looked like they were hard. I had to wonder what thoughts were going through her mind. I took a good long time rinsing her hair. I was eager, yet reluctant to get on with the more important parts of her body.
I wrapped a towel around her head as best as I could. It looked sloppy, but it stayed in place and kept the water from dripping into her eyes. I took up the soap again and worked up a lather. I gently washed her face and rinsed it with the cloth. I turned her away from me and washed her shoulders, again using just my hands. She leaned forward so I could wash lower on her back. I helped her get to her knees to bring more skin out of the water. Her butt was red from the hot water and sitting on the hard tub. I washed down her back and just kept going. When I slipped my hand between her ass cheeks, she gasped a little bit, but moved her legs apart to give me access. It had to be washed, and I had to do it. She mumbled a quiet, “Oh, God!” and I wondered if it was from embarrassment or some other feeling.