Lock Step - Love Under Lockdown

“Look, if this is too real, Phil, I—” Richard started to say.

“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 shot.”

“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. It’s fine. 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 and he was pretty funny, too. I didn’t think I could 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, if I were to ever have a serious relationship not work out. Not that I would want that, which was one reason I stayed out of relationships to begin with. 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 if you two could learn 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 Tracianne 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 guess.

“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 was sure this conversation would get really ugly, really quickly, 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, too. 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.

No, it was best to go along with what he was saying, just to get along.

“All right, I have to go back to my room,” I said. “Thanks for the drink. Sorry, I can’t finish that cigar.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugged. “I’ll save the rest of it for you for next time if you want it. You keep these things dry, they last forever.”

He snipped off its ends and put it in a plastic case. I went back to my room to have more dirty thoughts about his daughter.

If I was going to have to try to get along with her, there was no way I was going to stop thinking about all the naughty things I wanted to do to her.Chapter Eight - TracianneAfter days of nothing but surfing the Internet, I grew weary.

What day was it?

Had I been locked in for a week yet?

Jesus, I’m going out of my mind!

“Hey girl, what’s real?” asked Diamond, over the phone.