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~~~~~~~ Two weeks later after Bobby's and my talk, Daddy flew into Miami International on a warm Monday morning.

When I'd broached the idea of his spending ten weeks in South Florida with his son he'd been a surprisingly easy sell, probably mainly due to the nor'easter that had deposited twenty-one inches of the white stuff the night before I called.

But Daddy had a toughness, a hardness of body and mind that I knew I'd never match.

Brought up around his fathers fishing boat on the coast of Maine, he still had the ropy, working man's musculature on his wiry, six foot one inch body that ten thousand hours in the gym couldn't replicate.

"Musta been a great cruise Daddy..sound like you're back to you're normal friendly self," I laughed. "Maybe that bimbo yoga broad you're dating might like to be in it too," I said grinning as I stood up to go.

My father, Roderick Scouries, was just back from a ten day New Years Panama Canal cruise and sounding as crusty and testy as ever. "Melissa's my fiancée you asshole," he yelled at my departing back.

relationship with a 35-year-old member of an off-the-grid lesbian survival community hidden deep in the Rocky mountains...

Even at sixty-three he was a man you'd be a fool to cross.

I pulled him into my arms and hugged him when we finally met, gave him a kiss on his cheek in welcome that his stern Yankee upbringing always found hard to accept.

She clicked relentlessly through the tabs: Restaurants, Bars, Photography, Film, Video, Merchandise, Coming Events, News, and then finally Erotica.

It was boxed halfway down the page, a simple announcement that produced an ever widening smile as she read.

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