Lockdown Love

by Brisa Starr

  The lone tear dries as I rest my head on the pillow.

  Restless with longing for Landon, I fall into an anguished sleep.

  I wake up and see that it’s 8 o’clock in the morning. I’ve overslept, but I don’t care. My sleep was fitful, bombarded with mixed dreams of Landon and I making love in one, and us yelling at each other in another.

  I slowly get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom sink. I check on my wound and see that it’s healing so well, I can remove the bandage. I brush my teeth, smiling to myself at the homemade beauty products I brought with me that are adorning the bathroom counter. A sense of pride swells within me, and I look into the mirror. I look deep into my eyes, and a warm feeling comes over me. I feel my Granny looking back at me.

  With my head back on straight, I’m prepared, again, to proceed with finishing this book. I think about the different parts I want to work on today, while I slather on my jasmine-scented body lotion.

  I’m still in my pajamas, but I really want a cup of coffee before I get dressed, so I go into the kitchen. I pick up my special coffee cup and appreciate the intricate detail of the cherry blossoms and hummingbirds etched on it. Granny loved both cherry blossoms and hummingbirds, so when she found a cup that had both of them, she was tempted to buy all of them in the store. But she restrained herself, realizing that it would be more special if she had only one. So she left the store with only one cup, and she kept it safe all those years.

  I make my coffee and see that Landon isn’t here. I shake off the feeling of disappointment that wants to settle in my stomach.

  Focus, Emma. Focus.

  Looking out the window, I see that the weather is beautiful again, and I spy some weeds in the back yard. I decide it would be a nice gesture for me to pull some weeds, to make a contribution because I might be staying here longer than expected. Pleased with my idea, I take my coffee back to my bedroom to get dressed and finish getting ready.

  Since I’m going to do some yardwork, it would also be a great time to get some sun on my ghostly legs and arms. I pull out my short, tie-dyed, terrycloth shorts that barely cover my ass. And I pair them with my hot pink bikini top. I grab my big floppy sun hat and walk into the bathroom. Feeling a bit sexy — and going against my better judgment — I put on some purple eyeliner and mascara to accentuate my eyes. I add some pink blush, and I open my shimmery lip gloss that makes my lips so full and look pouty.

  What are you doing, Emma? Stop it. Don’t tempt him any more than he already is.

  I ignore my thoughts, put on the lip gloss, and adjust my hat.

  I head out into the back yard and start pulling weeds. I’m immediately relaxed with the warm sunshine on my back, and I let myself fall into the rhythm of nature. Yardwork is one of my favorite things to do, and I love feeling my hands dig into the soil, whether I’m planting seeds or pulling out roots. I connect with mother earth and always get lost in her warm embrace.

  As I start to get into the rhythm even more, I can’t help but allow my thoughts to drift to Landon. I wonder what he’s doing. Where did he go? We’re supposed to be self-isolating and not going out, except for essentials. I find myself getting a little perturbed now that I think about it. Where in the heck is he? He should be here!

  I decide to take advantage of my anger and remind myself that nothing more is going to happen with him. I’m putting a stop to any further flirtation. Today, and for the rest of the trip.

  Well done, Emma. That’s better.

  An hour later, I’m still pulling weeds when I hear the back door open, and Landon steps outside. Hoping he just ignores last night and moves on, I let him speak first.

  “Hey,” he calls out from the patio. “What are you doing?”

  “I should ask you that,” I reply and see him walking toward me. “What are you doing? Where did you go?” I snap, shocking even myself at my tone.

  “Damn girl. Possessive?” Delight fires in his dark blue eyes.

  “Please. Not at all. I just wondered where you went when we are NOT supposed to be going anywhere.” I go back to weeding, not looking at him.

  “Well, to be honest, I needed some space,” he says. “I called the golf course to see if it was still open.”

  “Space? Ha!” I bark, offended.

  “Yes. Space,” he replies firmly. “If you haven’t figured it out yet — and you seem reasonably bright, so you should be able to — I get a little crazy around you, and I needed some space to get my head straight.”

  What does he mean by getting his head straight? Disappointment floods me. Fear takes over. What if he doesn’t like me anymore? What if I pushed him too far rejecting him, and he’s over it? WAIT! Arrrghhh. That’s exactly what I want. I should be relieved, but... crap. I’m not.

  “And?” I say flatly, feigning disinterest.

  “And yes, the golf course is open.” He continues. “They realize the importance of allowing physical activity during the lockdown. They have some rules, such as maintaining distance between the players. Since we have our own golf cart, I didn’t have to rent one. So I took off with Bessie for a round of golf.”

  “Oh,” I say softly. “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Yes,” he replies. “So what are you doing?”

  “I’m just pulling some weeds. I wanted to contribute to the household chores, seeing as I’ve no idea how long we’ll be here.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. But, really, you don’t have to do that, Emma.”

  “It’s OK, I don’t mind. Yardwork is actually one of my favorite things to do.”

  “Of course it is,” he snarks, playfully I think, but I’m not in a playful mood.

  “What does that mean?” I snap, tilting my head up to see him from under my hat.

  “Just saying. You must be in your element. With all your plants,” he shrugs, his tone laced with a tinge of mockery.

  “You’re a piece of work, you know that? If you knew even half of what I know about plant medicine, your mind would be blown. Then you’d be spewing apologies at me left and right.”

  He rakes his hand through his hair. “I’m not going there. I’ve got better things to do.”

  “Good, like what?”

  “Like meditate,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “Good. Go meditate!” He turns to walk away, then stops.

  “How long you been out here?” he asks.

  I eye him suspiciously. “I don’t know. Maybe an hour. Why?”

  “You wearing sunscreen?”

  “What do you care?” I spit.

  “I don’t want you to get burned,” he says pointedly.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I fume and boldly meet his eyes. “I won’t get burned.”

  “Seriously, Emma, do you have any sunscreen on?”

  “No. I don’t. I don’t need it,” I scowl, my mood plunging into anger. “I take astaxanthin.”

  His head jerks back with shock, “Asta-what?”

  “Of course you don’t know what that is,” I chuckle and shake my head.

  He’s pissed I’m laughing at him. Well, good. I keep laughing.

  “What the fuck, Emma?”

  “First of all, you don’t own or control me. And if I don’t want to wear sunblock, I don’t fucking have to.”

  “Emma,” he growls through a clenched jaw, “if you get sunburned, you’re going to be fucked.” He adds in a patronizing tone, “You’re from Michigan, and you’re not used to the sun out here.”

  “Allow me to school you then, Dr. Mitchell. Astaxanthin is a carotenoid found in algae, shrimp, and lobster. You do know what those are, right?” I don’t give him a chance to answer. “When taken regularly, studies — clinical studies — show it protects the skin and basically creates an SPF internally.”

  “I see that you’re not going to listen to me, and do as I say,” he replies and looks me up and down, both anger and seduction fighting in his eyes.

  My pussy starts to betray me, tingling and throbbing at his comman
ding tone. But I won’t back down.

  “No, I won’t,” I say to him, devoid of any emotion.

  “Well, don’t come crying to me when you get burned,” he yells as he storms back inside the house.

  “Well if I do, I’ll use the aloe out here! A plant! You ever heard of it?” I yell back, but I doubt he heard me from inside. Well, it is a nice aloe plant. I look at it, smiling in appreciation of the healing powers it holds in those thick, spiky, succulent leaves.

  Frankly, I’m relieved when he goes inside. There you go, Emma, see? If you wanted a sign from the Universe, there it is, another example of him not respecting my work and thinking his way is the only way. And as my boiling blood starts to simmer down, I sit there for a moment and completely clear my head.

  I stand up and rub my hands together to wipe off the dirt, and I grab the bucket of weeds and take them to the garbage can by the gate. I’m a bit hot and sweaty, so I think I’ll take a nice, cool shower and then set up shop in the back yard to work. Hopefully, I will remain undisturbed for the rest of the afternoon.

  I’m about to head inside for some iced tea, when I see a splotch of red hair through a decorative hole in the cinder block wall dividing our yard from all of the neighbors. The entire back yard is surrounded by this wall, making it quite private, though there are these little sections every ten feet that could be used to peek through. It’s behind one of these holes that I see the red hair.

  Is that the neighbor lady looking directly at me? I call out. “Beverly?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s me, dear,” she replies, startled.

  “Um, can I help you with something?”

  “Oh no, dear. Just seeing how you’re doing.”

  So she was spying. “We’re fine, Beverly.”

  “That’s good, dear. And Landon? How’s that hunk of a fella doing?”

  Lordy, she’s something else. “He’s fine,” I call out.

  “OK, well, actually, there is something. Could I please have a few of your grapefruit and lemons?”

  “Why, sure. I’ll pick a few right now.”

  “Wonderful! Thank you so much, hon.”

  I pick the fruit and walk it over to the wall. I set the fruit on the top of the wall, but I’m not sure Beverly can reach it. She’s quite short.

  “Beverly? Are you able to reach the fruit?”

  “Oh yes, dear. I have a step-ladder right here in fact.”

  “Um, OK. Here you go.” It’s strange she just happens to have a step-ladder right there.

  Beverly takes the fruit and starts to walk away, saying, “Thank you, dear! Please tell that handsome lover of yours I said thank you, too.”

  “He’s not my lov-”

  “OK, dearie, see you later,” she cuts me off. Through the peephole, I can see her going into her house.

  Well, that was weird. And, lover? Landon? “Not if I can help it,” I mumble as I head inside.

  In the shower, the cool water feels so good on my hot skin. I just stand there, cooling off, long after I’m clean.

  After drying myself and freshening up, I make some iced green tea and head back to my makeshift office outside. Time to focus my attention on writing. Like a good girl.

  I sit back in my chair and stretch my arms over my head. I’ve done a solid three hours of work, and a surge of pride fills my chest. I made some headway, and I’m feeling much more confident about my book.

  Oops. It dawns on me that I haven’t texted Paige or my mom to let them know I’m probably going to be in Arizona longer than I’d originally anticipated. I pick up my phone and almost tap the icon to FaceTime Paige, when I change my mind and text her instead. I’m afraid she would ask me about Landon, and I wouldn’t be able to dodge the conversation. Paige can always tell what I’m thinking from my expressions. I’m just not ready to go there yet.

  I text her:

  Me: Hey, girl! How are you?

  Paige: Emma! Hi!

  I love her enthusiasm. She always makes me smile, ever since the first day we met in ecology class. We became best friends instantly. I took the class because it’s a subject I love. Paige was there because the professor was hot, and she had a crush on him. She just stared at him with dreamy eyes the whole semester. She would’ve flunked without my help.

  Me: I’m doing great, but hey, weird shit here. Have you been following the virus on the news?

  Paige: Yeah, why? You don’t have it do you???

  Me: No, no worries there. However, the city I’m in has been hit hard and it’s spreading like wildfire.

  Paige: Oh wow! So what does that mean for you?

  Me: We’re under lockdown, not allowed to travel. I might not be able to come home for a while. If I have to stay another week or two, can you please keep getting my mail?

  Paige: Of course! Geez, are you scared?

  Me: Not really. Landon and I are taking precautions and self-isolating.

  Paige: The hot doctor roommate! Ohhh, self-isolating with a hottie? Lucky girl!

  Crap. I brought up Landon. Why did I do that?

  Me: No, it’s not like that.

  Paige: Um why not?

  Me: Um because he’s too hot, and I’m too busy writing.

  Paige: Lame.

  Me: I do have a confession.

  I had to say something because it’s been driving me crazy keeping it to myself. Maybe she can give me some advice.

  Paige: Spill.

  Me: We might have kissed. Against my better judgment.

  Paige: Kissed? And that’s it???????

  Me: Um, he might have gone down on me last night.

  Paige: OMG!!! Was it good?

  Me: OMG is right. It was the best ever, and that’s the problem. I’m screwed.

  Me: FIGURATIVELY I mean.

  Paige: I fail to see the problem here.

  Me: Beyond the fact that he’s too hot for his own good, he’s cocky as hell, and we have nothing in common. It’s just something that would go nowhere, and I’d end up heartbroken.

  Paige: What makes you think it can’t go anywhere?

  Me: We live in different states, for starters.

  Me: Ahhhh I’m so confused. There’s something about him that I can’t resist, but we fight like cats and dogs almost every day.

  Paige: Sounds kinda spicy. :) And make-up sex is the best! ;) I vote you go for it. Although if you end up hating each other and trapped together, that might be awkward.

  Me: You’re not helping.

  Paige: Sorry, I thought I was. :)

  Me: Well, I better get back to writing.

  Paige: Luv u. And when you go all the way with him, let me know!

  Me: Lol. Luv U 2. Bye.

  Just then, Landon opens the door and steps outside. “How’s it going?” he says, as though nothing was wrong.

  I’ve always been amazed how guys can be in a fistfight with their buddies one minute, and laughing the next. They’re like puppies.

  In fact, he seems completely harmless right now. And sexy, as usual. Actually, I’m in a better mood, too. My anger from earlier is diffused, and I’m stoked about the progress I’m making on my book.

  I decide to smile at him. “I’m doing great. How are you?”

  “Can’t complain,” he answers and smiles.

  He’s wearing navy cargo shorts that hang loosely on his waist, and I can see the waistband of his gray boxer briefs peeking out from above his shorts because, of course, he’s shirtless. But I refuse to be distracted. “How is meditating? Have you been keeping up with it this whole time?”

  “Hardly,” he laughs. “I’ve been working with my partners back in Wisconsin to set up tele-medicine meetings with my patients. I’ve been busy setting up the software to make that happen. It’s all regulated and has to be HIPAA-compliant, so we need to do everything just right.”

  “Do the regulations make you wear a shirt?” I say dryly but continue to stare at him. I’m wondering why he’s out here.

  He winks at me. “Yes. I only took it off
for you because I like the way you look at me when I do.” He pauses, ever so slightly, to see how I respond. I don’t.

  He continues, “How would you like to have a perfectly grilled steak for dinner tonight?”

  “Perfectly grilled steak?”

  “You got it,” he replies. “One of my many talents is grilling steaks, perfectly. I want to make you dinner tonight.”

  He has that damn sparkle in his eyes again, full of hope and confidence, and I’m flattered that he wants to make me dinner. Not to mention, steak sounds delicious. But I’m afraid of where it will lead.

  “Thank you, Landon, but it’s probably not a good idea. Though I appreciate the offer. Really.”

  “Just as friends, he offers casually. Consider it my appreciation for the yardwork you did today.”

  My defenses begin to crumble around me. I would absolutely love a steak. And I’ve been working all day, so I don’t have any energy to make myself a meal. Plus, I’m mildly intrigued by his grilling confidence.