“Okay, but call me when you get home so that I know you made it there safely.”
“Maybe I should text you instead. You said that you were expecting company tonight.”
Her father nodded, “Monique and I will be continuing our lessons here tonight, so maybe a text would be better.”
Trish beamed at her father, “I’m proud of you, Dad. Checking ‘learning how to cook French cuisine’ off of your bucket list is a huge step. How many lessons have you paid for?”
Did her father just blush? He did!
“Okay, Dad, spill it.” Trish insisted.
Glancing everywhere but into his daughter’s eyes, Steve Hatcher sought the words he needed. Trish placed her hands on either side of his face to focus him on her.
“What is it, Dad?”
With a deep sigh, he said, “I’m not paying for the cooking lessons. I am bartering with Monique for them.”
Trish dropped her hands, crossed her arms over her breasts, and asked, “Bartering with what, exactly?”
“Bucket list items,” her father confessed.
“What sort of bucket list items?” Trish implored. “What is on this Monique’s bucket list that you could fulfill for her? Does she expect you to design her dream home for her or something?”
“Is architecture all that you think I’m qualified at?” her father asked with no attempt at hiding his indignation.
Although no other qualifications sprung into her mind at the moment, Trish answered, “Of course not, Dad. So, tell me, what are you bartering with?”
Her father closed his eyes in an expression of frustration that Trish was very familiar with. He finally said, “Monique lost her husband a few years back too. Her and I have been discussing our shared loss and all the things that we never did with our spouses, assuming that there would always be time later. In both our cases, the ‘later’ never came, at least not with that person. We’ve been discussing the possibility of us sharing some of those items together, Monique and me.”
“Adventures such as learning how to cook French food?” Trish asked. “What else?”
“Look, Patricia, this is not something that I feel comfortable sharing with my daughter, and I’m certain that Monique would not appreciate me…”
Setting her purse onto the counter, Trish raised her chin in stubborn defiance, “We’ll see about that! I’ll just wait here until Monique arrives and ask her myself.
Her father threw his arms in the air before reaching around Trish to retrieve her purse from the counter. Thrusting it at her, he said, “Fine, but not one word of this gets back to Monique. Agree?”
Trish accepted her purse and said, “Agreed.”
Without further prompting, her father said, “Monique’s bucket list is comprised almost entirely of fantasies. Fantasies that she was never able to fulfill before her husband’s untimely death.”
A grin appeared on Trish’s face, “Sexual fantasies?”
Her father simply nodded.
“I love it, Dad! How many have you fulfilled so far? What’s planned next? I can’t wait to meet her!”
Beseechingly, he asked, “If I tell you what the plan is for tonight, will you leave?”
Trish had a mischievous smile on her face as she nodded in response.
“The first fantasy that Monique wants us to check off her list is for her to have anal sex. That’s what we have planned for tonight.”
Throwing her arms around her father and squeezing tightly, Trish said, “You’ll make her fantasy come true so wonderful for her.”
Stepping back and smiling up at her father, Trish added, “Do me one favor, Dad…”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Ask Monique if she keeps a journal.”
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