This choice: Mark. Single father of a cheerleader (45 years old) • Go Back...Chapter #4Mark. Struck by Lighnting by: Unknown Ring-ring
The sudden noise startled Mark as he was cleaning his pool. Barely managing to avoid falling into the pool, he swore. Turning he glared at his phone wondering who was calling him. His daughter Claire had just left for the day at the lake with friends, and Mark had been looking forward to a day alone. There had been a number of home projects piling up and it was the perfect time to get some of them done. Whoever was calling had better have a good reason for interrupting him.
"Hey Dad."
"Claire?" Mark instantly went from enraged to concerned. He hadn't expected to hear from his daughter for at least another hour. "Is there something wrong?"
"You could say that." A sigh came down the line. "The Bitch stopped working." The Bitch was Claire's car. I you could call her that. The thing was a monstrosity, made from a hodgepodge of other car parts from now to the eighties. She ran, most of the time. But she was high maintenance woman. You had to love her and please her, or she would just stop in the middle of the road. She had been Mark's first car and he had never found a reason to get rid of her until he handed Claire the Keys on her sixteenth birthday. "Do you think you could come pick us up? We're only a couple miles out of town. At the rest stop"
"Of course I will." Mark assured her. "I'll be there soon." Hanging up he sighed, looking around the smoked glass walls and ceiling of the pool room.It, and the spacious house, had been one of the many ways Mark had indulged his wife. She had been delighted at the heated pool she could use year round, and a house big enough for all the children they planed to have. Even after she had passed the pool and house still got plenty of use, to Mark's delight and frustration. He was happy to see that Claire always had friends over. Unfortunately those friends were uniformly young, attractive girls, often prancing around the house in small bikinis. More than once Mark had retreated to the master bathroom to relive the tension to the image of one of his daughter's friends writhing beneath him. Shaking his head, Mark retrieved his keys and headed out.
Not long after, Mark pulled into a parking spot next to the Bitch and the three girls surrounding it. His daughter waved at him as he got out of his truck. They young redhead was the spitting image of her mother, from her long, lithe frame to her freckled skin. More than once he had rounded a corner and found his wife's name on his lips when he saw Claire. On the Bitch's roof was tall Martha, laying down on a towel. The thick bodied girl's caramel skin contrasted with the white fabric of her bikini. Then there was Tina, the fierce Latina, decked out in leather. She had a small radio in her hand listening to the forecast.
"Hey Dad!" Claire walked over to give him a hug, "Glad you could make it."
"I wasn't about to leave my little girl stranded." Mark glanced at his daughter car. "No Ling today?"
"Her parents had 'plans'," Martha sat up, with her customary scowl that she got when she talked about her girlfriend's parents. Mark knew for a fact that they were the only parents in his daughters group to NOT know about Ling's relationship with Martha. Everyone who did know conspired to keep the conservative couple in the dark until the little China doll was ready to tell her parents. With a snarl that Mark knew wasn't directed at him, Martha hopped off the roof and changed the subject. "How did you keep this hunk of junk running anyway?"
"Virgin sacrifice." Mark deadpanned. Martha scoffed. "No seriously." He opened the back door and pointed at the seat. "See that dark stain right there in the middle? That's were Claire's mom lost her virginity." There was a moment of silence as the girls processed that information, thinking about how often they that on that stain.
"Ewwww!"
"Dad! I did not need to know that!"
"Hey,guys?" Tina looked up from her radio. "You need to hear this." She cranked up the volume.
"...Get inside. There is a large lightning storm moving down highway 67 at high speeds. Be advised that everyone needs to get off the road and under cover or to get inside. Repeat. Get inside.
The foursome looked at the sky. Lightning storm was a very accurate description. The storm appeared to be made of nothing but lightning. Heads swiveled towards the bathrooms. "Run!"
Mark had almost made it to the building, when he tripped. He skidded on the pavement hard. Groaning he got to his feet. He was to late. White hot fire coursed through his veins and thunder roared in his ears. Everything went black.
Mark opened his eyes a groaned. Everything part of his body was sore. And the world was blurry. He tried to sit up and was pushed back down by gentle hands. "Don't try to get up. You were hit pretty hard." A soft voice murmured in his ear. Blinking, Mark turned his head to the side. A beautiful face swam into view. Perfect symmetry framed sapphire blue eyes. "Do you know your name?"
"Mark Jibs." Focusing lower he say that the beautiful face was above a plain set of hospital scrubs. "What happened?"
"You were hit by lightning and thrown across a parking lot." That explained why everything hurt. Although he was starting to feel better already. "You've been unconscious for about twelve hours."
Memories snapped into place. "Claire!" Mark struggled to sit up headless of the pain. The pretty nurse forced him back down.
"Relax, your daughter's fine. She got under cover in time."
"Dad!" Claire ran into the room. Sobbing, she hugged her father, "You're okay!"
"Ow! Baby, everything hurts!"
"Sorry!" Claire stepped back. "It's just you were on the ground and then you were flying and Martha wouldn't let me go and and... You're okay!" Mark was silently grateful for the cool headed amazon who kept his daughter safe.
Chuckling, in walked a doctor. "Surprisingly considering your age and what you just went through. We were mostly just waiting for you to wake up. How do you feel?"
"Sore. Not surprising if I took flying lessons." Mark frowned. "I didn't break anything?"
"No." The doctor smiled, "being unconscious probably saved your life."
"Other than that I feel okay." Mark didn't mention that everything felt fuzzy. Not in any conventional sense. But something was different. The doctor started talking and Mark mostly blanked him out. If nothing else Claire would remember everything for him. Mark's attention was instead focused on the gorgeous nurse that had come back into the room. Mark couldn't help but think about what see looked naked. Or at the very least, his eyes dropped down to gaze at her breasts, what her nipples looked like.
Suddenly the nurse looked right at him. Mark freezes realizing he's been caught staring, when...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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