Regular readers will remember I mentioned I was working on a super secret two chapter short? Well this is the first half of it. Y'all should send a heap of love to the ever so wonderful Sanguine Sovereign and Aubs for the concept suggestion and proof reading on this one. You guys rock!
As ever I have personal stuff going on which sucks but... yeah, I'm sure you don't need to hear the gory details. Suffice to say I've been ruined for helping people forever. Did you guys see Rehearsal finished? If you were waiting for it to end before going to read it then now's your chance! I can't recommend highly enough that you read it and send some love to the incredibly talented CountingWithTurkeys who is just an amazing author.
Content warning: implied but not graphic homo sexing, awkwardness, feels, historical character death.
There were three things that Hunson Abadeer could be certain of at that exact moment in time, hurrying away from his daughter's apartment block with his face burning in horror. Firstly, Marceline had a new girlfriend. At least, he hoped to God it was a girlfriend and not a random hookup because somehow that would have made what he'd overheard even worse. Secondly, that the girl in question was named Bonnie. Marceline had been extremely vocal about that particular name, repeating it loudly while her father froze in horror just before his fist could connect with her bedroom door and announce his presence. Lastly, he was sure and extremely relieved that neither of the young women in the apartment had known he was there. Ok, maybe four. Four things. He was also absolutely certain he'd never, ever make the mistake of dropping by unexpectedly again and using his spare key to let himself in when there was no answer at the front door, even if the thud of distant bass from within announced Marceline was home and listening to obnoxiously loud music again. Thank God, at least the bedroom door had been closed and he was spared the visual to match the horrifying sounds he'd overhead. Hunson hurried off down the street and away to where he'd left his car, still trying to delude himself that his daughter was not an adult yet and definitely wasn't having loud gay sex all over the place. He went home and consoled himself with a large glass of whiskey.
It took a few weeks but eventually he found the courage to pick up the phone and call her. He timed it for a Friday evening, figuring she'd be out someplace partying and he'd be able to leave an answerphone message. No such luck; the call connected after a few rings.
"Daddy, hi!"
She sounded out of breath, oh hell why did she sound out of breath?
"Everything ok, Pumpkin? You, uh, sound a little out of breath." Hunson asked with a cringe.
"Yeah, I literally just walked through the door, the elevator broke so I took the stairs. Why?"
"Oh! No reason, I just worry about you, and if you're looking after yourself." And if you're being careful and taking whatever precautions lesbians are suppose to take?
"Uh... ok? Daddy, literally, I just walked up a staircase. I didn't climb Everest, I don't need an oxygen mask or anything. Are you ok?"
"Fine, fine, I'm fine. A little achy behind the knees, and, you know, tired from work. But otherwise I'm fine. Just fine."
"...Are you sure? You're saying 'fine' a lot."
Hunson took a steadying breath and realised he might have oversold how completely and totally fine he was. So he changed the subject.
"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to come by for dinner one night next week?"
She was quiet for a moment and Hunson had a sudden epiphany that his daughter was nerving herself up to asking him something. He already knew what it was and he'd still not completely gotten his head around it but he figured that if he was given a deadline to at least have an outward appearance of being ok with it he'd find it easier.
"I, uh... yeah, that'd be nice. Um. Maybe we could go out someplace? There's a good pizza place in town that know not to poison me."
That was a red flag for sure. Marceline was trying to take her new girlfriend someplace neutral to meet him just in case he unexpectedly turned into a homophobic bigot and it was awkward to be at his home. Hunson recognised that strategy because it was the exact same one he'd used more than twenty years earlier when he'd introduced Marceline's obviously non-white mother to his own vaguely racist parents. Take them to someplace public so they're less likely to cause a scene, she must either really like this new girlfriend or be really scared he wouldn't approve. Maybe both. Hunson frowned to himself when that thought struck; had he ever sat his daughter down and explained just how much he loved her and how little he cared about the gender of whoever she was dating so long as they made her happy? Maybe not. He made a mental note to do just that as soon as convenient moment presented itself.
"Of course, Pumpkin. Shall I book a table for two?" he replied, instead of all the swirling questions in his head.
"I- uh. If, um, if it's ok? I might... uh... bring someone along to meet you? If, you know, that's ok. I... like, uh, a girlfriend sorta person. Y'know? Is that... You're ok with that?"
What luck. A convenient moment had just presented itself.
"I would be honoured to meet your new girlfriend, Pumpkin. Have I ever told you that you never need to be scared to bring people home to meet me? I'm just happy you're happy. My little monster, all grown up and in love-"
"Daddy, stop, you're making it weird!" Marcy wailed in obvious embarrassment. Hunson grinned to himself, he could almost feel her fierce blush down the phone.
"A table for three, then. Seven o'clock, Friday?" he asked instead.
"Can we make it later? Just, uh, Bonnie might not be off work by then. She gets delayed on a Friday a lot, uh... just, y'know, work stuff."
And now she was being cagey about her girlfriend's job. Interesting. Hunson had a brief moment of overwhelming panic because what kind of job was busiest on a Friday night? Was his daughter dating a stripper?
"Oh, of course. Later. Eight? Nine? When is she going to be finished?"
"Probably like, half eight would be fine. I'll just meet her after she finishes and we'll come down from the h- work."
"From the..?"
"Hospital." Marceline muttered. She sounded annoyed with herself for slipping up and telling him where this mysterious girl worked. Hospital. Unless strip clubs had started having much weirder names than back in his day Hunson suddenly decided he was getting more ok with his daughter's girlfriend with everything he heard.
"Oh ho! Hospital, eh? So, you got yourself a cute nurse?"
"Shut up, Daddy! Bonnie's not a nurse, stop assuming things just because she's a girl and works in a hospital!"
"So then is she a receptionist? Administrator? There's a lot of jobs in a hospital, Pumpkin. I can keep on guessing all night."
Marceline had once tried to explain music to her father without a lot of success. But one of the things that stood out in Hunson's memory from that conversation was that the pauses and the quieter moments were just as important as the crescendos and the loud, exciting parts. And that same thing was also very true of his daughter. From the tense silence on the other end of the phoneline Hunson could summarise that Marcy didn't want him to know what her girlfriend did for a living and it wasn't because she was embarrassed. Because... she always accused him of overreacting, didn't she? She got her dramatic streak from him and if she wasn't scared of him disapproving then the only logical assumption was that she was scared he'd over-approve. Hunson felt his grin widen.
"Are you dating a doctor, Pumpkin?"
"Just, like, she's only a junior doctor, Daddy. Please don't make a fuss-"
"A doctor in the family! Oh, I'm so proud! Imagine when the boys at the golf club hear about this! Michael's always bragging about his granddaughter Susan taking over the family business one day, well now my daughter-in-law is a doctor-"
"Daddy! We're not married, we've only been dating for six months and Bonnie doesn't even believe in it!"
"But you have discussed the possibility of getting married?"
"Urgh, stop! I'll see you next weekend, Daddy. Please try to be normal."
Marceline hung up the line with an audible huff and Hunson beamed to himself. He was feeling a lot more comfortable with the situation.
...
As the week went by Hunson became more and more nervous about meeting his daughter's doctor girlfriend. True, she had a good job. And Marceline herself was on course to be a doctor of music in a couple of years. But this Bonnie girl was an unknown; he'd done the math and come to the conclusion that she was at the very least a year older than his daughter, what if she was overbearing and controlling? He realised with a jolt that he'd never met anyone Marceline had dated since she'd been in school and he'd had dinner with her and Ash. He'd seemed such a nice boy but from what Hunson could tell things had ended badly between the two of them and shortly after Marcy had announced she was over boys completely. Naively her father had assumed that meant she was uninterested in dating anyone, maybe that she was going to focus on her music instead. It had only been a couple of years later when she'd turned up over summer break from college with a rainbow streaked shirt bearing the legend 'Love Is Love' and casually mentioned she was going to a Pride parade the next day that he finally put it all together. The hair shaved into an undercut on one side that he'd just assumed was a punk thing. The flannel-shirts-open-over-a-vest aesthetic. Those chunky red boots she always wore even in summer. Her friend Jake's obvious horror the day Hunson had casually threatened to murder him if he did a single thing Marceline didn't give her express consent to. Oh. He'd felt like such an idiot, such a bad father. Had he really been so far removed from his daughter's life that she'd come out to everyone she considered important and he wasn't even an afterthought for her? That had been a turning point and he'd spent much more time getting to know her after that, even buying her the concert harp she'd mentioned as a birthday gift that year to her confusion and delight. Hunson knew he'd never make up for all the years he'd missed but he hoped he could get to know his daughter as an adult. And of course, that meant accepting that she was having adult relationships. It was difficult. Part of him still saw the squishy faced newborn with the shock of black hair and chubby little cheeks when he looked at her, surely she wasn't old enough to be having girlfriends and getting intimate with them?
"Daddy, hi!"
He was broken out of his panicked thought cycle by his daughter's voice announcing she'd just arrived at the restaurant. And she was on her own, which was actually something of a relief. With hindsight he wasn't completely certain he was ready for this, he-
"Bonnie's just parking the car, she managed to find a ridiculously cheap second hand sports car that she's fixed up and it's her pride and joy. So it must be parked in a space where there's absolutely minimal chance of anyone accidentally scratching it or, you know, looking at it. Such a dork." Marcy announced with a fond eye roll.
"You're girl's a petrolhead?" Hunson asked conversationally as the waitress showed them to their seats. It was all he could think to say, other than making some awkward comment about her being good with her hands which he absolutely didn't need to think about.
"Yeah, she used to mess around with cars when she was a kid, between a million other hobbies and afterschool activities. Lemme see, she used to figure skate with her brother, we went skating for our second date. Uh, and she can ballroom dance. And I dunno, she's done kick boxing and various martial arts for years. She's got deadly aim with a firearm too, her Dad's ex military and insisted she learn to handle a weapon safely the moment she could stand without help. You don't wanna be on the opposite paintballing team to Bonnie. Oh, and here she is!"
It hadn't escaped Hunson's notice that his daughter had started to ramble about her girlfriend and that she seemed every bit as nervous as he felt. He stood from his seat to welcome the new arrival to the table, glad that he still had his manners even if his brain seemed to be letting him down.
The young woman approaching them was slender and athletic with light red hair held in a knot at the back of her head. Hunson could easily see why his daughter was so taken with her. She was conventionally beautiful with a soft oval face and very blue eyes that were accentuated by the sapphire necklace she wore. Well at least Marceline had good taste in women, Hunson thought grudgingly. He tried not to notice that his voice even sounded gruff in his own head.
"Daddy, this is Bonnie. Bonnie, this is Daddy." Marceline introduced them when the young woman reached their table. She held her hand out politely and Hunson took it, trying not to think about lesbians and what they did with their hands in general and how weird the whole thing was.
"Marceline introduced me as 'Daddy' but you should probably just call me Hunson." he told her, hoping it came across as funny and not just weird. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. Marcy was just telling me about your car."
"Oh, the Porsche! Yes, I was very lucky to get such a good deal on it." the redhead replied, eyes instantly lighting up. "It needed a lot of work and I did have to strip the engine down and rebuilt half of it but it runs beautifully now. Are you interested in cars, Mr Abadeer?"
"Please, call me Hunson. I've driven a Mercedes for years now, couldn't say I would know enough to rebuild the engine but I do appreciate the fine engineering on the suspension. She drives smooth as butter." he replied, glad they were on a safe topic because he could have talked about his car all night.
"My father drives a Mercedes too but I've always found them a little lacking in acceleration. Luxurious, but I prefer something a little more sporty for myself. I miss that extra horsepower and torque especially if I'm driving at speed."
Marceline was making a show of rolling her eyes and looking through the menu.
"You realise that when you talk about cars all I hear is white noise, right?" she asked them.
"Pumpkin, be nice. We have a shared interest, it wouldn't hurt you to learn to drive too, you know." Hunson chastised her.
"Yay, me with the spacial awareness of a concussed walrus, behind the wheel of a one-tonne death machine? Sounds real safe." Marcy muttered, although her cheeks were heating with embarrassment.
"I'm sure you just need more practise this time." Hunson added, trying to be charitable because it was clear that his daughter had inherited his wife's lack of driving skills and was touchy about it. Unfortunately the words were poorly chosen and she glowered at him.
"Thanks, Daddy. Why don't we just tell the whole damn restaurant? I was only seventeen at the time! I had one tiny mishap with his car-"
"Which is perfectly understandable, since the accelerator is right next to the brake and it was only your first lesson-"
"And how was I supposed to know headlights were so expensive to replace anyway? It wasn't even that badly smashed up-"
"The back of that other woman's Range Rover was much more badly damaged, however. She was very nice about it." Hunson finished with a nostalgic smile.
"The moral of the story is that I suck at driving and if you value your car, your life or any combination of the two, don't even think about letting me behind the wheel." Marceline sighed. Bonnie just smiled and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"You need lessons with a professional driving instructor is all. Once we've built your confidence a bit you can have a go driving The Morrow."
"You named your car The Morrow?" Marcy asked with another eye roll.
"The last three letters of the licence plate spell MRO, it's cute." the redhead shrugged.
"You say cute, I say dorky."
They were saved from their bickering by the waitress coming to take their order and Hunson was privately glad. He wasn't sure if his daughter was being a little mean to her girlfriend because she was nervous or if they were just naturally the sort of couple who playfully teased one another but the last thing he wanted was to end up in the middle of a row. Did lesbians row? He wasn't sure come to think of it, he had a vague idea from somewhere that they didn't. But then, in his experience women were crazy so surely a relationship composed entirely of women would be double the crazy? And what happened when they got their periods, did they sync up and have hormone crazies at the same time? He'd shared a house with his teenage daughter when she'd had hormone induced mood swings in the past, the logical conclusion was that Bonnie was either very brave or a little crazy herself. He'd somehow need to figure out when was the wrong time of the month to visit.
"So, Marceline tells me you're a doctor." Hunson started once the waitress had taken their order. Bonnie blushed and smiled modestly.
"Only just. I graduated this summer and I'm just starting a placement with the children's cancer unit at the local hospital. It's gonna be a few more years of part time study along with getting experience at work before I'm doing anything really worth talking about." she replied.
And very suddenly there was an elephant in the room, Hunson realised. Because of all the specialisations she could have picked, his daughter's new girlfriend was going to be a cancer doctor. It cost him a lot of self control not to glance at Marceline's face to see if she was frowning.
"It's hard work but I'm sure you're already aware of that. Best of luck with it." Hunson murmured, unable to think of anything more to say.
The conversation slipped into silence as they waited for food to arrive and Hunson took the opportunity to closely examine the subtle interactions between his daughter and her girlfriend. They shot each other small glances from the corner of their eyes and exchanged private smiles, he was sure at one point they were holding hands under the table. He'd never seen Marceline like that before. If Hunson had to name it he'd say his daughter was in love. She looked so much like her mother; they reminded him of himself years earlier and the long repressed ache of loss in his chest was harder than ever to ignore. If this pretty, energetic young doctor was who Marcy had chosen then Hunson would support her every step of the way. He remembered all too well the argument with his own parents about his upcoming wedding to someone they'd disapproved of. His father had died not long afterwards of a sudden heart attack and Hunson had only gone to the funeral because his mother had begged. She'd passed on a few years later when Marcy was only about a year old, she'd never once managed to say anything positive about her granddaughter and however else he'd failed as a parent Hunson had never, ever made Marceline feel self-conscious about being mixed race. Come to think of it he doubted she even knew that his parents hadn't come to his wedding, hadn't accepted his wife or daughter solely because of the colour of their skin. It still hurt, even decades later. Now she was an adult and it was his turn to accept his offspring's choice of partner. She could do a lot worse than a sensible doctor with a good job and a nice car. It still bothered Hunson on some level that she was another woman but he was going to do his best to accept it. He didn't understand it himself and his view of homosexuality had always been mild confusion but dammit, he'd messed up too badly in the past with his daughter and he'd never seen her as obviously besotted with someone as was she was with this Bonnie girl. So Hunson pushed the awkwardness out of his mind and when his pizza arrived he concentrated on eating and asking his daughter how her PhD was coming along. The relief was plain on her face and no matter that he still had reservations Hunson could at least congratulate himself that he was trying his hardest to support her.
"Well?" Marcy asked anxiously the moment Bonnie disappeared to the bathroom after dinner.
"Well what? Are you expecting me to give her a score out of ten?"
"Daddy!"
"Very well, Pumpkin. I'd say she's an overall high nine, very pretty and gregarious but just a little pushy and domineering. You're in for a lot of negotiating and compromising if you want to make the relationship long term but it seems like a fair pay-off. And she has a good taste in cars and in women. So you have my blessing, not that you ever really needed it. I'd hazard she could even make a solid ten on a good day."
Marceline stared at him and Hunson chortled, pleased with his own joke. It wasn't often he managed to stun his daughter into silence, most of the time it was her sassing him.
"This. This is why I took six months to tell you." she finally informed him.
"Pumpkin, she's lovely. And you're in love with her and she's in love with you and I'm happy for you. What else did you want me to say?" Hunson asked her. Marceline shrugged and avoided his eyes. It was clear that she was uncomfortable discussing matters of the heart with her father and that saddened him on some level, he couldn't help but wonder if her beloved foster parents had had to wait six months to meet her girlfriend. Probably not, but no matter how hard he tried he'd never have the sort of relationship with his daughter that Simon had. Hunson couldn't find it in himself to dislike the other man for it though, how could he hate the man who'd raised and protected her when he'd been too ill to be the father she deserved? He was envious, to be sure. But he couldn't change the past and at least his little girl had grown up with a loving father figure when he'd been too crippled by guilt and depression to be there for her. She'd grown into someone he was proud to call his daughter and she was in what appeared to be a loving relationship with an intelligent, beautiful woman who obviously adored her. Hunson couldn't be happier for his daughter and when they said their goodbyes after dinner he very nearly managed to push what he'd overheard that day at her apartment out of his mind. Almost.
…
"Sorry my father's a weirdo." Marcy announced as they watched his ramrod straight, suited back disappear out of the restaurant.
"Hey, don't even worry about it. You should just meet my Dad, Hunson at least sounds like he has a sense of humour. So is he always weird about shaking hands or am I just unlucky?" Bonnie asked.
"I dunno. Why, was he weird?"
"He was trying to shake my hand without really touching it. And he didn't look terribly comfortable with me saying the word 'lesbian' out loud. Did you have a tough time coming out to him?"
Marcy just shrugged as they walked up the street to where the second hand Porsche was waiting for them. How had she come out to her father? It wasn't a strong memory so she supposed it must have gone ok.
"I don't really remember sitting down and having a big conversation with him about it. I just… sort of casually mentioned girls I liked, or dates I'd been on. We didn't even really start talking until I was in uni and you're the first girlfriend I've ever taken to meet him. But you're also kinda my first girlfriend. The others were more… y'know."
"One night stands, you big slut." Bonnie teased.
"Not all of them! Some of them were weekend affairs." Marcy countered, grinning self-consciously. "I was far too cool and busy to go around falling in love with anyone."
"So what does that make this? A six month affair?" the redhead asked, leaning in expectantly from where she'd slid into the driver's seat.
"True love." Marcy replied softly, just before their lips met.
It was true, every word. She'd drank and smoked and been a slut and never once thought about actually spending more than two nights with the same woman because, where was the fun in that? Besides she'd had a high flying music career that took her all over the country and sometimes to exotic foreign locations, how was she supposed to even think about having a girlfriend when she had a whole world to explore? And besides, if she never let anyone close enough to love them then she'd never have to deal with being left behind by anyone. Never have to watch someone she loved walk out the door for the last time, never have to hear them say that they were sorry but it was over. Never have to receive a phone call from the British Embassy in India to tell her that her estranged wife's death certificate had finally been processed.
But that had been before the night she'd met Bonnie, before commitment became a goal instead of a phobia. And she suddenly got why people signed on for decades of monogamy, why sex with just one person for the whole of their lives wasn't automatically terrifying. Why her father had never remarried, because if he'd felt about her mother the way she felt about Bonnie then she could understand why limitless grief was his response to losing her. The redhead was a bossy control freak with an expensive taste in cars, she was thoughtlessly amazing in bed and sang like a beached whale when she didn't realise Marceline could hear her from the bedroom when she was in the shower, she was a die hard feminist and somehow still a Twilight fangirl and didn't see how those things contradicted each other. And all of that and more combined to make her irresistible and incredible and just impossibly amazing in a way that Marcy still didn't feel able to really explain. As they drove away together Marceline was struck by a thought. If commitment was her goal, if this was as forever as she desperately hoped it was, then they'd just passed an important milestone. One set of parents down, one to go. One step closer.