October 22, 2007
Selfless
I breezed through the Den Himmel Clinic, casting sidelong glances at some of the more attractive girls on my way to the back storeroom where my my charity is headquartered. Since I’m busy trying to record an album and rehearse for upcoming live gigs, I’ve delegated many of the charity responsibilities to Margo and my daughter, Renal. In fact, I came to Den Himmel to pick Renal up and take her to beach volleyball practice in Santa Monica. I hoped taking her to the beach wouldn’t end the way it did last time.
As I reached the storeroom, the sound of her voice wafted through the semi-open door. I paused to listen to her unfiltered advice: “Slow down, chica, just think about it: you’re gonna get flabby, your tits are gonna sag, you’re gonna be looser than Jessica Martin—”
“That bitch!” the unknown girl snapped.
“You need to just terminate this pregnancy now. It’ll solve all your problems with Tommy, and you’ll keep that tight-ass body you’ve worked so hard on.”
“I’ll do it!”
I nodded with approval, even though I knew Renal couldn’t see me. She gave the exact same advice I would have—remarkably mature for a girl of her age.
“Don’t forget to call me if you want to go two-on-one,” Renal said. I heard the squeaking of a chair, then footsteps—
—and then I was face to face with a cute young honey.
“Hi,” I said suavely.
“Out of my way, faggot!” she roared, pushing past me and flopping down on an examining table.
I went into the storeroom.
“Hey, Dad!” Renal beamed.
“I couldn’t help hearing your words of wisdom,” I said. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“I try,” Renal said, grinning ear to ear.
“Shall we?” I crooked my elbow out so she could take my arm. She didn’t, so I pretended like my goal all along was to lean against the shelf stock. She chuckled as she moved past me, pressing her thin, taut frame against me as she did.
“Let’s go,” she said silkily.
“Okay,” I gasped.
We rode in silence along the pass, down Highland to Sunset, then navigating early Strip traffic on the way to the Boulevard. She mostly just watched out the window. I concentrated on driving and blasting kick-ass tunes.
As we coasted down the hill on La Cienega to Santa Monica Boulevard, Renal finally said somberly, “You’re a real nice guy, Dad.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s sort of weird, you know. Like, my mom always painted you to be this huge mega-star—she never told me your name, but she’d go on and on about how you were this giant, untouchable rock star. She worshipped you, even after you ditched her. As far as I know, she didn’t even try to contact you. She didn’t want to burden you with your daughter. Then, I finally track you down and find out who you are and—I’ve barely even heard of you. I got some of your old CDs and stuff, but based on what Mom said I wasn’t really expecting this washed-up loser.”
“Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth.
“But you’re real nice and generous and stuff. That’s why you never hit it big—”
“I didn’t?”
“You don’t have it in you to be an asshole. You always put others above yourself.”
“My mom was always kind of a bitch,” Renal continued. “I told you some of that, I know, but she’d just get so ridiculous about certain things. Like I could never say anything bad about my absentee father—she always acted like you were Jesus.”
“I’m bigger,” I said.
She glanced at my crotch and muttered, “I know. I’m still sore.”
“Yeah, anyway…” I said to change the subject as quickly as possible.
“So yeah, my mom just kinda hated me for hating you without really having met you,” Renal explained, “and I guess I just want to apologize because, you know, she was right all along. Aside from not being very famous, you’re just what she said you were. The best father a girl could ask for.”
“I try,” I said.
After a surprisingly non-awkward moment, Renal said, “I have to change now. Eyes on the road, mister!”
I kept my eyes on the road, but my peripheral vision caught an eyeful of the washboard abs, small but existent breasts, and gorgeous skin pallor I had only seen once before. Unlike Margo, who would slip the bikini top under her still-on shirt, then remove it, Renal tore the shirt off with reckless abandon, then slowly fumbled to get the top on. She repeated the process with her pants. I didn’t want the flash of pubic hair or skinny bone-white legs to arouse me—she’s my daughter, for God’s sake—but I couldn’t help it. I turned up the music and we rode the rest of the way without talking.
When I dropped her at the boardwalk, I asked when she’d be back.
She shrugged and glanced at a group of beefcakes warming up at one of the volleyball nets. “Could be all night,” Renal said.
I sighed. “Well, if it’s after three, be sure to take the bus home.”
“Will do.” She grinned, gave me a tongue-filled kiss on the lips, then hopped out of the car and swaggered toward the sand. I tried not to admire the way the golden afternoon sun kissed her perfect ass.
Tried and failed.
Written by Girth McDürchstein on October 22, 2007 8:23 PM
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