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Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two
Chapter Four: Lindsey
Jessica sat in the armchair in the living room with the laptop in her lap, atop a lap desk. Eric watched TV nearby, but Jessica couldn’t help but be aware that his attention was half on the show, while the rest of it was on her bikini-clad body. The website, showing the escort girls, was once more on her screen. She couldn’t stop looking at it.
It wasn’t showing her anything new. After looking at the three girls, over and over, she knew every photo and each description. Still, there sat the question, in the back of her mind as she looked at them. What was her father thinking of when he brought the girls over? The question nagged at her, ate at her, begged to be answered. How would she answer it, though? It wasn’t as though she could just ask him. Then, what would she do with the answer? That, too, she didn’t have her own answer for.
A knock sounded at the door. Eric sat up but Jessica was faster, saying, “I’ll get it.”
She set the laptop aside and hurried for the door, her heart thudding. What if it was one of the girls? She opened the door and, just like the previous night, she looked into the face of a girl who could have been her sister. The girl wore a spaghetti strap top and denim shorts, cut high and very short, frayed at the legs. The girl looked equally as surprised to see her.
“Oh, hey,” she said, “Are… are you new? I didn’t know we were doubling up tonight.”
“I… I’m Jessica,” she stammered, though it was not an answer to the question.
“Lindsey,” the girl said, and let herself in, then asked again, “are you new?”
“New?” Jessica asked
“You know, to the business? To Daddy? Either? Both?” she asked, laughing.
“Um, no. I’m… I’m not in the… what business, exactly?” Jessica asked, nervous, probing.
Lindsey gave her a suspicious, narrow-eyed look. Owen came down the hall.
“I’ll take it from here, honey,” he said, “Thanks.”
Just like the night before, the girl called Owen daddy, leaned up on her toes, and kissed him on the mouth. His hand palmed her bottom through the shorts as Jessica blushed and watched it happen. Owen gave her ass a little squeeze, making the girl giggle, and for just an instant his eyes landed on Jessica. She blinked and then the two of them were walking toward the stairs.
Jessica shut the door and locked it, then drifted slowly back to the living room. She sat back in the armchair, staring through the TV. She had to know the answer, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. It was so confusing.
“You alright?” Eric asked, his brows furrowed.
“Huh?”
“Are you okay? Who was it?” he asked.
“It was… one of them,” she said.
Eric laughed, “One of them? You act like they’re lizard people or some secret organization. They’re just people, Jess. It’s their job. That doesn’t make them lizard people.”
“How would you feel, if mom was bringing home guys half her age, and all of them looked like you?” Jessica shot back, a little angry.
“I never really thought about it,” Eric admitted, “I guess I’d take it as a kind of compliment.”
“You don’t think dad… that he like, wants to… do things with me?” she asked.
“Jess, I don’t know. I see the girls. Sometimes, I answer the door, we say hello. Dad takes them upstairs or they go out. I don’t make it a point to ask him about his sexual fantasies.”
Jessica got up and started toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Eric asked.
She looked back, said nothing, and climbed the steps. The draw of the curiosity was too strong. She found herself creeping down the hall until she was outside the bedroom door. She pressed her ear carefully to the door. There was music playing, but she couldn’t hear anything else.
She waited, body tense, listening intently. There was something, a hum? A purr? The sound of something wet and then a whisper, too quiet to make out. Then, a deep rumble, maybe an agreement. Wet again, yes, wet like smacking. Was it a kiss?
Jessica shut her eyes, trying to block out other stimuli, straining her ears. She wished Eric would turn the fucking TV off. Quiet from inside, then a creak as of weight on the bed, quieter, a masculine growl. The girl squeaked, giggled softly, and moaned. Wet sounds again, followed by a sigh and a word that may have been, “daddy,” but Jessica couldn’t be sure. The door was thick, the sound muffled.