Frank had spent four and half years and $8,000.00 restoring the old convertible. The new ragtop alone was $3000.00. He’d had everything rebuilt from the shocks on up, it purred like a kitten. He’d had everything restored to original from the wide white wall tires to the bench seats, except he’d had the seats covered in leather and not vinyl. His first inclination had been to have it painted with flames down the sides but thought maybe he was getting a little old for that and had settled on a bright ‘candy apple’ red. It was his pride and joy, well, next to Roxanne. She was his real ‘pride and joy’.

He looked over at her, the wind blowing in her hair, her head back, her eyes closed. She had at least put on a T-shirt and a pair of white shorts for the ride.

“If ya get cold, just say so. I can put the top up, or you can scootch over here next to the ‘ole man’.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I don’t need to be cold to sit next to my favorite man,” she said sliding across the seat and under his arm. “Daddy, tell me a story.” She asks snuggling close to him.

“You mean like the three little pigs?”

“Mmm hmm.”

He leaned his face on the top of her head. “Once upon a time there were three little pigs. One pig wanted to build a house but the big ole nasty loan officer ‘Mr. Wolf’ wouldn’t loan him any money because he didn’t have any collateral, so he built a flimsy old house out of straw, but Mr. Scarecrow keep coming along and stealing part of his house.”

He heard Roxanne giggle as he told his story.

“Now the second little pig had an old beat up jalopy, kinda like this one, but not near as cool. Therefore ‘Mr. Wolf’ had no choice but to loan him some money. He got in a big huff and puff about it though.”

Franklin continued to tell his made story as they drove down the road, smiling each time she’d giggle. He loved to listen to her laugh and see her smile. As time as miles went by, Roxanne slid down his side, laying her head in his lap, her arm across his knee, listening to his fairly tales. After awhile they both grew silent, him just enjoying the drive. He looked down at her, she seemed to be asleep.

“Are you warm enough baby,” he whispered.

She gave no response so he took his hand off the wheel and rubbed it on her arm to see if she was chilled. The touched caused her to move and slid her arm farther across his legs. His hand fell on her breast. He froze, he knew he should lift his hand, but didn’t. He looked down at her and she appeared not to notice in her sleep. He felt she had no bra on under the T-shirt and could feel the heat of her breast through the cotton. He knew he should move his hand but instead cupped her breast softly. He kept his eyes on the road as he held his daughters breast in his hand. He found her nipple through the material and gently squeezed it. She moved and he jerked his hand away. She rolled over on her back and he looked down at her. Her dark eyes shining from the light of the dashboard.

“Will this help Daddy,” she asked, reaching down and pulling the bottom of the shirt up, exposing both her breasts to him.