Calypso and the Moon

Cherry Tomatoes.

Her father stood infront of her, smiling widely and with paper bags in his hands. His greying beard was shaven completely, making him look younger.

"I brought ya dinner, kid,"

Calypso leaned back, looking at the clock ext to her door. "It's five in the afternoon, pa. I eat dinner at eight,"

The man shrugged, and pushed past her. Calypso's heart shuddered against her ribs as she closed the door behind her. The man stood still then, frowning at the blazer that layed on the couch. Calypso stayed silent, chewing on her bottom lip.

"What's that?" He asked, pointing to it. He walked with the bags in his hands to the kitchen and put them on her island. He frowned again, and pointed to the ashtray. "Didn't know you started again,"

"That's mine, actually,"

Calypso and her father both spun around, and she felt her heart drop to her feet. James walked out, dress pants being the only thing covering his body. His hair was tucked behind his ears as it usually was.

Her father tilted his head, and accepted James' extended hand without a word, "James Dudley,"

"I know who you are,"

Calypso deadpanned. She watched James smile at her father, and his eyes trailed over his body, skeptically.

"James, this is my dad, Frank,"

James nodded slowly, "Pleased to meet you," He said kindly. Frank raised a curious brow, "Ditto, James," Her dad stuffed his hands in his pockets, and looked at the girl with wide eyes. James did the same, his hands tucked into his pockets and looked at Calypso.

She swallowed, "Uh-"

"Weren't you on trial today?"

Calypso swallowed a groan. James laughed softly, nodding, "Sure was," Frank nodded, "Yeah, and who was your lawyer?"

Calypso's eyes shut for a moment, and then she inhaled deeply, "All right, enough with the introductions." James bit the inside of his cheek, ridding his lips from pulling into an amused smile. Calypso clasped her hands together as silence wafted in the air, and Frank shifted uncomfortably.

"Dad, mind getting the plates?"

Her daddy nodded and turned on his heel, and Calypso grabbed James' wrist, pulling him behind her into her bedroom. James smiled at her, amused.

"Oh, my god. This is fucking horrible," She whispered as James shut the door. "Why?" She groaned softly, her head galling into her hands, "You weren't supposed to meet him!" She whisper-yelled between her parted fingers.

James rolled his eyes, "Listen, it's okay, baby. I'll be nice," She took his en tended hands, gripping them tightly, "I know! It's him I'm worried about,"

James shrugged his broad shoulders, "I need my shirt," He then said, his lips pulling into a smirk. She tsked, and quickly worked to unbutton it. She turned and slipped a white band t-shirt on. She bended and groaned when she saw herself in the mirror. Her hair was messy and standing everywhere, black mascara stains under her eyes and a little on her flushed cheeks.

After James shrugged on his shirt, he pressed a kiss to her temple and a tap on her ass, and left her bedroom.

She cleaned herself up faster than she ever has, and she looked at the mirror, sparing herself a satisfied nod and walked to her living room.

James and Frank were sat infront of the TV, half-full wine glasses on the coffee table infront of them. Calypso frowned, then looked at the TV. They were watching a football match, and she rolled her eyes, and passed by them to her kitchen.