Music Box Dreamer

Ann grinned at her sister, “Slow down moppet. Give me time to answer one question before asking another one.”   “Sorry Annie,” but there was only joy in the teen’s voice and delight dancing in her eyes.   Annie’s grin grew bigger, “It’s all right Moppet. A simple yes is the answer to all of them. My Tommy is gorgeous, a living doll and so dreamy. It’s funny dear but I never knew what you meant by dreamy before. He’s got lovely red hair and.”   Her mother’s strident voice interrupted her description, “None of us are interested in this common soldier that you’ve throne your life away over.”   Ann Foster ignore her mother’s words, “He’s got a powdering of freckles all of his beautiful body. He even has red hair, well I never knew men had hair there at all. Of course I never thought about that before. It’s curly and softer than any silk could ever bee. If Irish women are as good in bed as Irish men are, no wonder daddy has one for a mistress.”   “Your father doesn’t have a mistress. Why he’s a Foster and Fosters don’t do that sort of thing.   Alexander stubbed out his three quarter smoked cigar in a marble ash tray, “My word Annie, where did you ever get such a silly notion. A Mistress, my word, my word indeed.”   Annie smiled through beginning tears, “You don’t have to pretend with me daddy, I’ve know about Mrs., about Fiona Fitzgerald since I was twelve.   Foster eased himself off of the couch and started pacing back and forth, mumbling as he went. “My word, my word, since you were twelve,” he stopped in his tracks and turned to face his daughter. “Just how did you learn about my mild indiscretion?”   “Daddy darling all the heating vents are connected together. I get to hear every conversation in this house. I first started to listen so I would know where you hid my Christmas gifts. I was so angry at first daddy. I even thought I hated you for the longest time but now I understand why. Aren’t the Irish people the most loving and glorious people in the world. I just can’t wait to be close to his naked body again. It’s so delicious making love with him”   Abigail Foster roared, her face was as red as a beet, “I won’t have that kind of smutty talk in my house. Now take it and get out of here. Your allowance will be cut off and you won’t inherit one penny of my money.”   Bertie wandered over to the couch and poured a large tumbler full of brandy. He sat down and swallowed half of it in one gulp.   Annie smiled sweetly at her mother, “I’ll be gone as soon as I pack my suitcase and i don’t care about your filthy money. You can choke on every last red cent of it.”   Mr’s Foster glared into her daughter’s teary eyes, “You’ll not take one thing form the my house except the clothes on your back”   Ann returned the star with one just as cold, “It was daddies money that bout my clothes, so I’ll take what I want and send for the rest.” She turned her worried gaze to her father, “I can have them, can’t I daddy.”   “Of course my darling, Bertha will help you pack.”   “Thank you daddy, will you please come to my wedding and give me away.”   Foster’s no sooner got his mouth open to answer than his wife roared, “No one is going to your wedding, you filthy strumpet. It’s all you your fault Alexander, if you hadn’t been rutting with your Irish washer women for all these years, none of this would have happened.”   Alexander Foster looked his wife straight in the eye, “Perhaps Abigail, if you had a warm bone in your body I wouldn’t have had to go to Fiona for love and comfort.” He turned to look at his two daughters and winked. “Of course I’ll come to your wedding and give you a way. I can’t wait to meet your Tommy boy.” When he added, “He sounds so dreamy,” both girls broke in to a fit of giggles. “You won’t mind if I make a quick stop along the way.”   Two girlish voices chimed, “What for daddy?”   Foster smiled, “You don’t think I’d let my oldest daughter get married without a room full of flowers, do you? Now run along and get ready, I’ll go and pull the sedan around to the front door.”

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