Finally, Micky thought, letting out a sigh as she dropped her sports bag on the floor of her father's house. "Da! Da, I'm home!" She called, and the thump upstairs told her he'd heard her. Kicking her things into the corner by the door, Micky readjusted her cap, searched the living room briefly. Well, s**t, she thought, he'd cleaned. Only when she forgot something did he every bother cleaning and switching everything around, it seemed.
With a sigh, she took the steps two at a time, peeked into her father's room and laughed. Kevin Raider never ceased to amaze her. Retired from the pro baseball scene due to a permanent knee injury, Kevin raider had, since the age of 25, been a stay at home dad with endless hobbies. Today, it seemed, he was attempting...Was that yoga? She thought it was yoga. Seeing her father's lean build twisted into...Was it supposed to be a flower? She chuckled, knocking on the wall.
"Seriously, Da?" She said, and somehow he managed to untangle his arms and legs and...neck, then turn to her. "There's my baby girl!" He said, his eyes sharpening a bit when he spotted the bruises, but not saying anything. "I was thinking takeout for dinner tonight. Chinese sound okay?" He asked, and she nodded, watched as he got to his feet, reached automatically for his cane which was leaning against the wall.
"Yeah, sure, Pops. I'll be in my room if ya need me." She said, and was still chuckling as she crossed the hall to her own room. Kicking the door shut, she began hunting for the book she'd left...Somewhere around here. After twenty minutes and several curses, she found what she'd been looking for. Holding it above her head in triumph, she sank down in a baseball shaped beanbag, glancing around and spotting a half a bag of sunflower seeds halfway under her bed. Nabbing them, she tossed a few in her mouth, looked down at the prize in her hands.
A new book, she thought, and could've kissed the cover. Particularly since there was a gorgeous hunk of burning man meat on the front cover. Better yet, said hunk was shirtless. And, as all good cover-worthy hunks did, he carried an intimidating sword. She'd yet to read this one, but she'd already skimmed the back. The title was 'Jungle Fever'. Boy, did that sound promising, as was the back cover, which mentioned said cover-worthy hunk, who was apparently named Jackson Greywolf, was going to save/protect/fall in love with some girl in some jungle, yada yada yada. Whatever. She'd find out the plot eventually. Flipping to the first page, she settled in, preparing to enjoy herself.