Page 3 of Falling for My Dad's Best Friend

CHAPTER THREE

Mandy

I tapped my toe impatiently, sitting on the stoop in front of the cabin. Where was Mr. Parker? We were supposed to meet at noon, and now he was a full thirty minutes late. I sighed again and looked around. Well, I guess there are silver linings because at least I was dried out now, no more embarrassing wet patches, although my hair was still a mess. I’d futilely tried to put on some make-up, but it was impossible. I was still me, plain ole Mandy.

Well, I’m kind of me. Because the Mandy of the past, the little girl with a straight, ruler-like body has disappeared, and a curvy woman has taken her place. I’m not sure how it happened, but Mom says it practically a rite of passage for all the Jones women. We look like boys until we’re almost twenty, and then overnight, poof! We become full-figured goddesses.

Because I’m not small, or even medium-sized. I’m curvy. Huge. Junk in the trunk, bumpin’ rumps, all the good stuff. I’ve got great big sassy Double Ds, and hips that swing as wide as a ship. And as for ass? Beyonce and Kim Kardashian have nothing on me, I could balance a tray back there, serve a meal off my back cheeks if I had to.

So yeah, little girl Mandy is gone, and the new me looks completely different. But while I’m changed on the outside, on the inside it’s still Amanda, shy and awkward, more than a little socially unaware. I’m not sure how to behave a lot of the time, stammering and blushing even while my body’s telling a different story.

Take my graduation party last year for instance. Mom begged me to wear a dress, and I’d balked. I don’t know, dresses aren’t really me, I’m more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, maybe something with a cute slogan like “Girls Rock!” So a dress was the furthest thing from my mind, and when my mom whipped out a purple thing from a bag, I’d balked, shaking my head.

“Mom, no way, I can’t,” I muttered, looking away. “I’ll show too much skin.”

Linda clucked.

“No honey,” she reprimanded. “You can’t wear jeans and a t-shirt for your own graduation party, it’s not appropriate. And what’s wrong with this dress?”

I admit, the dress wasn’t a sexy cocktail number or anything like that. It’s just that it was purple, or violet more accurately. And it was swishy and sway-y, stopping a couple inches above my knee with a deep scoop neck. I couldn’t wear that. My girls would come tumbling out and even a small breeze would lift that skirt in a second, showing off my tiny panties and thick thighs.

“Mom, I can’t, how about this instead?” I asked quickly, pulling out a blouse from my closet. It was a nice blouse, sheer and silky. If I paired it with palazzo pants, I’d be dressed up enough. “It’s perfect for graduation, it’ll make me look sophisticated and dressy.”

But Linda shook her head.

“No honey,” she said firmly. “You’re eighteen, not thirty-five. That outfit is for a woman my age, in the middle of life, leave blouse and pants sets to me.”

I protested some more, but it was all futile, Mom was dead set on me wearing a dress. And given that the party had already started downstairs, I gave in. This wasn’t the time to make a scene, and sometimes it’s just easier not to fight, to let Linda have her way. Oh god, this dress was about ten sizes too small and I wasn’t even sure how I was going to get it on, it was gonna be so awkward.

So with a resigned sigh, I grabbed the dress and stalked into the bathroom. Might as well get this over with. Yanking my sweatshirt and jeans off, I struggled into the tight fabric, the material stretchy and just a bit shiny. Shit, my head was lost in the maze, my arm was poking out haphazardly, I couldn’t even get this thing on.

But finally, my face emerged from the fabric and I yanked the purple material down unceremoniously. Pausing, I gasped in the mirror. Holy shit, what a difference the right clothes can make. Because suddenly I wasn’t little girl Mandy anymore, I was Amanda, a woman had arrived, curvy and seductive. The neckline, which I’d thought would be indecent was actually okay, showing some décolletage but not letting my girls hang all the way out. And the skirt was flirty and feminine, showing off my thighs to an advantage, making me feel warm and very female. Holy shit, holy shit. Could I go downstairs like this? I was blown away by the transformation and futilely tried to get my curls in order, brushing them behind my ears.

And seeing me emerge from the bathroom, my mom nodded approvingly.

“You look beautiful honey, so gracious and grown-up,” she clucked.

I sighed, exasperated.

“But Mom, I thought you didn’t want me to look grown up and sophisticated, that’s why the blouse and pants were out,” I retorted pointedly.

Linda just shrugged.

“Honey, you’ll see,” she patted my hand comfortingly. “When you’re my age and have a daughter, you’ll know what grown-up means. For now, though, baby you look beautiful,” she said again. “My little princess.”

And I felt bad because Linda’s eyes were literally starting to tear as she looked me over, brimming up and growing slightly pink.

“Ma!” I rolled my eyes, putting an arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong? It’s just a graduation dress, it’s not my wedding gown or anything, no reason to cry.”

Linda sniffled a bit, wiping at her eyes.

“I know honey, but seeing you here like this. It just reminds me that my little girl is all grown up and flying the nest. My little girl who I used to rock to sleep every night, singing lullabies, is now all grown up and going to college, of all things! I’ll miss you honey, me and your dad both, we’re really going to miss you.”

And I gave my mom a heartfelt hug then. Because Linda and Ray have been amazing parents, really excellent in every way. They’d given me enough space and air to grow, to reach like a vine towards the sun, never holding me back, allowing me to develop at my own pace while still nurturing my roots down below.

And now I was leaving them. My graduation party was the last hurrah before I took off for Hudson University in the fall. So I hugged my mom tighter.

“No worries Mom, it’s gonna fine,” I said in a comforting voice. “Come on, it’s gonna be fine, you and Dad did a great job as parents, and this is the next step, it’s natural, all baby birds leave the nest. It’s hard, I know, but you’ll love the extra space. Weren’t you going to make my room into a den, or a sitting room to do your sewing? This is your big chance, think of how much you’ll enjoy it.”

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