SweetestSixShooter

The dingy cabin light of your daughter's best friend's shitty little sedan winks on and off past the flame of your lighter while you stare down the driveway, and once the paper catches, you suck in a deep, disposable breath of the second cigarette you've had since stepping outside to watch for her. Another breath while you wait, and the cabin light winks on again, Ruby's shaved head ducks down, and then it shoots back up and she smacks the light switch again.

Powderhead.

At least Salia didn't catch onto that, of all the things to pick up on. She stumbles a little bit as she rounds the hood of your truck, and her eyes flick up to you to check if you saw. You did.

She straightens her skirt as she slowly walks toward you, the plaid fabric white and pink and clutched unevenly with a phone and wallet in one hand, and a distinct lack of keys in the other. She was expecting you to let her in, it seems.

She tugs at her white shirt next, trying to smooth out a wet spot over her lack of bra that you can already smell as spilled vodka from ten feet away. You take a leisurely drag off the smoke again, and leave your face placid as she makes her final approach.

"Mom."

Cousin, technically, just ten years apart. But you were the one left when all the paperwork burned itself out, and then she was on your doorstep. And then you were mom.

Probably because of that.

"Mooooom." She croons at you, her free hand on the wrist of the other in front of her as she leans forward, an inch past a more socially discrete threshold for personal space.

"I told you to wear a bra when you leave the house."

Salia squeezes her tits together with her arms and pretends to shrink back with a false affectation of shyness. "But it's so hot, and Ruby's car doesn't have AC…"

"Bullshit."

"No, it really doesn't!" In your daughter's inebriation, she really thinks that finding a crumb of truth is a triumph in this conversation. You take another drag off your cigarette and just stare at her, your eye contact unflinching through the smoke you don't bother pointing away from her face. She takes a visible breath of the smell, then she takes yet another step closer to you. "You're mad at me."

She's close enough that you can smell the vodka on her breath, so vivid you might think she'd done a shot in the car before she got out. Knowing her, she might have. You flick your head slightly. "Why would I be mad?"

"No, you're mad." She leans as close as she can without touching you, face five inches below yours, red eyes focusing on your own as imperfectly as they can manage.

You flick the ash off your cigarette into her cleavage. "I can't have you drinking."

She stretches up on her tiptoes. "C'mon mom, it was just one shot, it's nothing!" There might be one shot drying on her shirt, but there was certainly more than that in her mouth earlier. Who knows what else.

"And I told you not to lie to me."

Salia's empty hand finds your hip, and the other braces on the wall behind you to let her lean as close to your chest as possible while she stares up at you with a clumsy attempt at puppy-dog eyes. "I was just exaggerating mom, I wasn't lyinggggg."

You adjust to spread your legs enough for her to press forward with your thigh between hers. You keep your voice flat as you reply "You know what'll happen if anyone finds out you're getting wasted."

"They can't take me away again, there's nobody else." She leans her face around to your neck and takes a deep sniff while she grinds forward against you. "Just me and my mommmm."

You reach up with your free hand and slide your fingers into her hair and rotate her face to look at you. "God you're such a drunk little slut."

"Uh-huhhhhhhh" she moans as she grinds on you again, and this time she doesn't stop, continuing to press hard against you as she rocks her hips and stares transfixed into your eyes. You take another drag and blow it in her face. "What did I ever do to get stuck with a slut daughter like this?"

Her voice is shaky from the pressure between her legs. "You-… were the only one-… that stayed."

And maybe you shouldn't have. This is so fucked. But fuck your life, so fuck it.

You drop your hand to her hip and pull her harder against your thigh. You haven't been exactly tepid in the clammy air so far, but her intoxicated moan pushes you into earnest heat. Her eyes roll up in her head and her motions become more emphatic while you half-assedly facilitate her grinding and finish your cigarette.

It finally burns out, and when you flick it onto the concrete past Salia her grip on your hip tightens and she leans her face on your chest while she rocks her hips and moans "Please, please, please, please-" under her breath. You glance around, and with no witnesses, you slide your hand up along her body and find her nipple, then pinch it - not too hard, not too light.

Just like she likes.

She squeaks at the pressure, then her motions cease to allow her to stretch on her tiptoes as close as she can get to your face. You know what she wants is a sloppy kiss, but you also know "You want your mom to fuck your face, don't you, daughter."

"Uh-huh!" She nods at you frantically, so you push her away. She knows it's not a rejection, so she grins and flips up her shirt to flash you.

You shake your head and roll your eyes as you point a thumb toward the front door. "Don't do that outside, dumbass. I let you get away with too much."

"Sii-iss?"

"Ye-es?" You match Cadence's inflection, not looking up from your book. You lost your focus as soon as she addressed you, but pretending you're still paying attention to your book means you can just drift back into it as soon as she's done talking.

"What's your favorite animal?"

Hm. Hers is dolphins, obviously. She's indulged you in describing several of the more indiscreet behaviors some of the species exhibit around humans, but there's always a love for them in her voice and an endearing humor about it. She seems to have an unending fountain of charming facts about every other marine animal too, but dolphins were the first she made you a surrogate encyclopedia for by spouting every tiny fact she learned about in her research on conservation.

Your eyes lift out of your book and you train them on the purple travel mug on the coffee table. Vampires? That doesn't count. Werewolves? No. Wolves?

You look over at her on the other couch cushion, past the phone she has propped up above the knees folded against her chest. "I don't know, why?"

She turns her screen around to show you a website with a jubilant smile. "I found this place that sells animal bead bracelets, and the proceeds go to support research and conservation efforts! They even give you a lil' card that lets you see pictures of your dolphin and track it on the map and stuff." She turns the phone off and drops it down against her chest, then she takes a foot and tucks it under your book to rest on your thigh. "Mine's in the mail. They only do it for marine animals, but it just got me wondering."

You fold your book and idly rub the top of her foot with your index finger. "Hm. How did you pick dolphins?"

She takes the opportunity of your closing of the literature to scoot down against the arm of the couch and flop her legs all the way across you. "Neddie."

"Ah." Two seconds pass, and she wiggles a leg. "So?"

"I don't know. What would you pick for me?"

She says "I can't pick your favorite for you." and then sticks her tongue out at you.

"No, I mean what do you think would fit?"

"Hmmmmmm..." She looks up at the ceiling, clearly engaged by the idea of picking for you as soon as you rephrased it. You open your cowboy book again, back to the herding scene that's serving as a sedate prelude to what you expect to be the final duel of the work. Cows? Definitely not. Horses? No.

She interrupts you before you get through another paragraph. "Why do you like german shepherds?"

Easy question. "They're big, smart, loyal, and you don't have to cut their hair all the time."

"Dogs, I guess then."

"There you go then."

"Why'd you pick Jack as a name, anyway?" You have to give it a second to consider, but in the end you don't really know why, so you just shrug.

"You think Arbor'd do okay with a big brother?"

No. "He's too dumb."

"He's not dumb! He's a sweet boy!" She pouts at you, and you look up and chuckle at her. "He's a sweet boy, but he's definitely dumb." Looks like you're not going to get to read any more for a while. "Why do you ask?"

"Ford has a cousin who's getting too old for her baby. He's not a purebred, he's a golden shepherd, but I thought maybe you'd want another with the bigger apartment."

You rub her leg. "You're sweet, but we don't need Arby recruiting a bigger brother to help him get into more trouble."

"Fair enough. Arby!" You can hear the most pathetic whiny howl from the other room. "Arby come play with your mom!" He makes his 'I'm too tired, I spent all day napping and I'm tuckered out' whine as a response. Cadence looks back to you and yawns too. "Maybe he's got a point."

You lean forward for a kiss. "Goodnight sis. I love you." She kisses you back three times, holding for a moist second on each one. "I love you too. Have fun with your cowboys."