Under My Enemy's Roof - Under Him

“That’s the rule?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“What about the husband? What does he get?”

“Sex,” he said, then laughed.

“Sounds like a shitty deal, Richard.”

“Welcome to life,” he shrugged. “But really. I was just kidding. We have responsibilities in life, but we also get the happiness of companionship and sex, which makes it all worth it. It’s not much better for the ladies. They have to keep us happy, too, even if neither sex likes to admit it about the other.”

I laughed. Pretty ballsy the way he was talking. If I told mom half the stuff he said, she’d probably have a fit.

“Shit, Richard. This is getting pretty real.”

“If you don’t have truth, you don’t have much of anything,” he offered. “If I can’t be real with you, you won’t trust me. Not that I expect you to instantly trust me on every subject, but--- Give me some credit. I’m trying to build a bridge.”

“After you destroyed one between my mom and dad.”

“That wasn’t all me,” he pointed out. “Couldn’t possibly be. You don’t stray from the path for just anyone and no reason. If you’re being honest, they were having problems before I came along.”

That was true. They had bickered a lot over the years. My mother wasn’t happy. I sighed. Maybe I didn’t want this conversation.

“Look, if this is too real, Phil, I---” he started tos ay.

“No, you’re talking to me like a man. I get it,” I acknowledged. “You know I wanted to punch you in the face. I vowed to do it if we ever were alone.”

He put down his drink and his cigar, then stretched out his arms.

“Okay, but you only get one.”

“You know I’m not going to do that,” I said smiling wryly. “What would you tell mom?”

“That I walked into a door or fell down. Just so I’m ready when you do it. Don’t surprise me in the hall or coming out of the bathroom, okay?”

It was hard to stay mad at Richard. He seemed like a genuine guy. I don’t think I’d ever forgive him for what he did, but I suppose I could learn to live with it. Maybe I would see things differently in the next ten years or, God forbid, after a divorce. I sipped the whiskey.

“Yeah, sure,” I agreed.

“I don’t know how long this lockdown’s gonna last, but if you ever want to visit the man cave,” he offered. “Let me know. We can smoke, drink--- I’m gonna assume that’s all you do. I’m not really into weed, but if you want to smoke a bowl---”

“You’re working it hard, Richard,” I smiled. “I’m not gonna share my schwag with you, but I guess we have a truce. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “One big ask. My daughter--- I’d really like it for you two to get along. I’m sensing a lot of tension there. Tracianne’s kind of in the same boat. She’s blasted me pretty good about dating your mother.”

“They do not get along.”

“No, they do not,” admitted Richard. “The two of them are vying for Queen of the Beehive and there can be only one.”

Hmm. That was true. Why was it that Richard and I could sit down together and have a real chat, but the ladies? No way.

They’d pretend to be cordial, but you could sense the underlying hostility between the two. My mother would rule over her or she would be driven out of the house. I could just see it.

As much as I disliked Phil and what he did, I could at least tolerate him if I tried. Such a weird dynamic either way, I gues.

“Maybe if you spent some time with Tracianne,” he offered. “Got to know her. Maybe, I don’t know--- Watch some TV together or something. I’m not suggesting you have to be best buddies---”

“Yeah, sure. I hear you. And I’ll see what I can do.”

He toasted and we clinked glasses.

“Thanks, buddy,” he smiled.

He wouldn’t be smiling if he knew how turned on I’d been when I had seen her swimming. I’m sure this conversation would get really ugly, really fast if I told him how hot I thought his daughter was. Oh, but he could talk about my mother all day long and I would have to sit here and---

Nah, he wasn’t trying to be a bastard. God, I wanted to dislike him, and, for my dad, I would not say I liked him. I decided I would, henceforth, only tolerate him somewhat. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.

It seemed the best thing for me to do for my own situation. If Richard thought I was cool with him, he’d be calm. The whole house would be calm and I would have less visits from him.

I could podcast and read comics in peace. If I put up a resistance, what would I get? I guess I would get the satisfaction of pissing him off, but then we’d both be miserable.