[Conduct Unbecoming 01.0] Conduct Unbecoming

by LA Witt

  Shane’s eyebrows jumped. To Marie, he said, “Is that right? Doing what?”

  “I don’t know yet. I kind of want to try everything. Directing, screenwriting, maybe some pyrotechnics.”

  “Pyrotechnics?” Shane and I said in unison.

  Shane laughed. “Wow. Here I thought you were a bona fide film connoisseur, if one with questionable taste, and now you’re talking about blowing things up.”

  “Well,” she said with a shrug. “There are films out there that could arguably be improved by a few explosions.”

  He cocked his head. “Such as?”

  Marie smirked and looked him right in the eye. “Anything by David Lynch.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Shane

  After two solid days of showing Eric’s daughter as many sights as we could without collapsing from sheer exhaustion, the three of us decided to kick back at his place for the evening.

  “So, you’re going to film school?” I asked Marie as we made dinner in Eric’s kitchen.

  She nodded. “Hopefully. I’m trying to get a scholarship to NYU, but I’d be fine with Vancouver Film School too.”

  “Ambitious,” I said with a nod. To Eric, I said, “And you and her mom are on board with this?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “It’s what she wants to do. She’s had her eye on Hollywood since she was a kid, so…”

  “And you know what he got me for my fifteenth birthday?” Marie asked.

  I shook my head.

  She grinned from ear to ear. “He took me to the Sundance Film Festival.”

  My jaw dropped, and I looked at Eric. “Are you serious?”

  “Are you kidding?” He laughed. “She’d been talking about how bad she wanted to go for like three years. Seemed like a no-brainer.”

  To Marie, I said, “So how was it?”

  “Oh.” She clasped her hands over her heart and sighed. “It was amazing.” Then she giggled behind her hand. “Especially when Dad got all starstruck over Robert Redford.”

  “What?” Eric threw her a horrified look, but the color in his cheeks gave him away. “I most certainly did not.”

  “Yes, you did.” She turned to me. “Redford walks out of a restaurant, and Dad was about this close to being a squealy fangirl.”

  “Uh-huh,” Eric said. “This from the girl who turned into a stuttering mess when someone said some director or another was in a building the next block over.”

  I laughed. “You know, most teenage girls get starry-eyed over actors, not directors.”

  “Yeah,” Eric said. “But most teenage girls don’t have a DVD collection where almost every movie has subtitles.” He paused. “And you should see the movies she and her friends have made in school. Some of them are absolutely hilarious.”

  “Is that right?” I asked.

  Marie giggled. “Dad, you remember the one we made with zombies attacking Grandma’s house?”

  Eric laughed. “How could I forget?”

  To me, she said, “Dad actually helped us choreograph the battle scenes and roped a few guys from the ship into volunteering to play the zombies.”

  “God.” Eric shook his head. “You would not believe how much beer I had to buy after that.”

  “Oh, whatever.” She waved a hand. “It was totally worth it, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, it was,” he said. “That was a fun weekend. What about the romantic-comedy spoof?”

  Marie laughed. “God, that was so ridiculous.”

  Eric looked at me. “She had her mother and me for one scene—”

  “That’s dedicated parenting,” she said matter-of-factly. “Two divorced parents willing to act together in a romcom for their kid’s school project.”

  I chuckled. “You really did that?”

  “Yep,” he said. “Her friends thought it would work because things would naturally be awkward between Sara and me.”

  “Uh-huh.” Marie glared at her father. “So much for that. Damn you two for getting along.”

  He shrugged. “I never said we were the greatest actors in the world. Hey, did you guys ever finish that sci-fi thing you were working on?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. The SFX budget is a bit…ambitious.”

  “Hmm.” Eric pursed his lips. “Well, let me know if you need help with it.” Then he threw her a pointed look. “Within reason. You’re not getting Michael Bay’s pyrotechnics budget.”

  “Damn it,” she said.

  “Sorry, honey,” he said, chuckling. “I’m in the Navy. Not exactly made of money.”

  “But Daddy.” She stomped her foot and folded her arms across her chest. “How am I supposed to knock Hollywood’s socks off with a Navy SFX budget?”

  “Sorry, princess,” he said, and they both laughed.

  I rested my hands on the counter. “Guess you’ll just have to fall back on things like dialogue and plot to make a good movie.”

  She shifted her weight and sighed dramatically. “Oh, if I must.”

  “You must,” Eric said. “Hey, you should show Shane some of the videos. You have them on your computer, right?”

  “Yeah, I do.” She looked at me. “Do you want to see them?”

  “Heck yeah,” I said. “I’m curious now.”

  “Okay, I’ll go get my laptop.” She left the kitchen.

  Eric put his hands on my waist. “You know, it’s a real shame the two of you don’t get along.”

  “No kidding.” I kissed him. “So does that mean you’ll keep me around a little longer?”

  “Oh, I suppose I could be persuaded,” he said with a smile.

  “I certainly hope so.”

  He grinned, then leaned in and kissed me again.

  “Oh, Jesus.” Marie’s voice turned both our heads. “I leave you kids alone for five seconds, and you’re all kissy-face.”

  Eric and I separated, both laughing.

  “Whatever,” he said. “Now fire up the movie so he can see what we were talking about.”

  “On it.” She grinned. “Here, let’s start with Mom and Dad trying to be awkward…”

  ~*~

  Later that evening, after we’d eaten dinner and watched several of Marie’s videos—which were quite impressive—we went into the living room to play some video games. I sat on one end of the couch. Eric lounged against me, his feet up on the other armrest.

  Marie sat on the floor, leaning against the middle of the couch. Glancing up at us, she said, “So, isn’t the whole point of a Wii to be more active while playing video games?”

  “Sure.” Eric concentrated on holding up his controller, aiming at the dartboard on the screen. He snapped his wrist forward, and the animated character threw his dart, which just missed the ring around the bull’s-eye. “We’re being active. Sort of.”

  “Uh-huh.” I pulled a Dorito out of the bag on Eric’s chest. “Active compared to, say, just staring at the TV.”

  “See?” Eric “threw” another dart. “Could be worse.”

  Marie clicked her tongue. “You two are such a horrible influence.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Eric asked. “Tell your mom on me?”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Fine.” He pulled a chip out of the bag. “Then as punishment, she’ll make me sell my car, which means—”

  “Okay, okay.” She put her hands up. “I won’t tell Mom.”

  “I knew you’d see things my way.”

  “Whatever.” She elbowed his leg. “Now quit hogging the chips, you two.”

  She reached for the bag, but Eric snatched it up and held it out of her reach.

  “Nope, these are for adults.”

  Marie snorted. “Oh, right. You let me drink beer, but I can’t eat Doritos?”

  I laughed. “You let her drink beer?”

  “I’ve let her try it,” he said, lowering the bag so she could grab a handful of chips to refill the bowl sitting beside her. “Somehow, I don’t think she’ll be making a habit of it.
”

  “Ugh.” Marie wrinkled her nose. “Not a chance. Okay, whose turn is it?” She picked up a chip and crunched on it.

  “I think it’s Shane’s turn, isn’t it?” Eric looked at the screen. “Yep, all yours.” He slid the wrist strap off and handed me the controller.

  I took my turn, then passed the controller to Marie. It was easier when we each had one, but we’d burned through the batteries on the other two, so this was the best we could do until they finished charging for the hundredth time.

  As we played, Marie and Eric teased each other, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw in as many comments as I usually did.

  For the last few days, as we’d spent more and more time together, a knot had slowly formed beneath my ribs. It wasn’t that I was jealous of the attention Eric showed his daughter. Far from it. And I didn’t feel like a third wheel at all; the three of us got along so well it was almost frightening.

  But something bugged me, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Oh, hell yeah!” Marie held up her controller triumphantly as the dart landed square on the bull’s-eye. “You’re going down, old men.”

  “Au contraire, kiddo,” Eric said. “Enjoy it while it lasts, because you’re toast.”

  “Whatever, we’ll—hey! That’s cheating!” She smacked his leg, and he laughed. As she tried to focus on her throw again, he nudged the back of her head with his foot. “Shane, would you keep your man in line, please?”

  I laughed. “I think you’re overestimating my ability to keep him in line about as much as you’re overestimating your ability to beat us ‘old guys’.”

  She glared at me over her shoulder.

  “Looks like you’re outnumbered,” Eric said, and I didn’t have to look to know he had that devilish grin on his face.

  Marie rolled her eyes. Turning back to the game, she muttered, “When you least expect it, Dad, I’m getting you back.”

  “Yeah,” Eric said, “we’ll see about that.”

  I had to give the girl credit. She had me convinced she’d let it go, that she’d forgotten about her dad trying to sabotage her game. Apparently she was just lying in wait, though, because several dozen throws later, when Eric was four points from beating us both, she made her move.

  He raised the controller, furrowing his brow and focusing on the screen, and just when he made his throw, she smacked his leg, this time closed-fisted.

  “Ow!” He sat up, putting his hand on his shin. “What the hell was—”

  “Ha! You lose.”

  He stared at the screen, slack-jawed. The dart had hit the eighteen instead of the four, which pushed his score over the line and cost him the game. “Oh, now that’s just playing dirty.”

  She batted her eyes at him. “Well, I did learn from the best.”

  He looked at me. “You see this abuse I take?”

  I held up my hand, rubbing my thumb and forefinger together. “And this is the world’s tiniest violin—”

  “Oh, fuck you.” He laughed and rolled his eyes.

  “Daddy!” She scoffed, putting a hand over her mouth. “You shouldn’t swear like that around me.”

  “Right, like you’ve never heard it before,” he said.

  She gave an indignant sniff. “You’re going to warp my fragile little—”

  Eric and I both burst out laughing.

  “You know what?” she said. “Fuck you both.”

  Eric glared at her.

  She put up her hands. “What? You say it, don’t you?”

  I patted his shoulder. “Father of the Year, right here.”

  Eric snorted. “Yeah, that’ll be the day.”

  “No kidding.” Marie chuckled as she stood and picked up her empty glass. “I’m going to get another drink before we start the next game.”

  As soon as she was gone, Eric sat up and put his hand on my arm. “Hey, you all right? You’ve been kind of quiet all evening.”

  I forced a smile. “I’m fine. Why?”

  His eyebrows knitted together. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I leaned in and kissed him gently. “I probably should get going, though. Some of us have to work tomorrow.”

  He grinned. “And some of us get to sleep in and slack off for a few more days.”

  “Very funny.” I kissed him again. “But seriously, I should get out of here.”

  He touched my face, and his brow furrowed a little. “You sure you’re all right?”

  I nodded. “I’m fine.”

  He eyed me skeptically but let it go, and we both got up just as Marie came back into the room.

  “Well,” I said. “You two have fun.”

  “Aww, you’re leaving already?” she said.

  “Yeah, I have to work in the morning.” I gestured at her father. “Do me a favor and make sure you beat him soundly on every game tonight.”

  She touched her hand to her forehead in a mock salute. “I so will.”

  Eric snorted. “Yeah. We’ll see about that.”

  “Bring it on, old man.”

  “Hey!” Eric and I both said.

  She laughed. “Hey, if the shoe fits…”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I said.

  I gave her a quick good-bye hug. Then Eric showed me to the front door.

  “You guys have plans tomorrow?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I’m taking her up to Nakijin Castle, and then, I don’t know, probably check out the Pineapple Park in Nago while we’re up there.”

  “If you do go to the park, grab another bottle of that pineapple wine.” I winked. “We can drink it when we have a night to ourselves.”

  Eric grinned and wrapped his arms around me. “I will definitely make sure to stop by, then.”

  “Good.” I kissed him lightly. “You could always grab some of the pineapple sake too.”

  “Pineapple sake?” He raised an eyebrow. “You trying to get me drunk or something?”

  I shrugged. “Well, you are kind of fun when you’re drunk.”

  “So are you.” He kissed me, drawing it out for a moment.

  When I broke the kiss, I glanced toward the living room before meeting his eyes again. “I guess I should let you get back to your game.”

  His amusement faded, and his earlier concern crept back into his expression. “You sure you’ll be all right tonight?”

  I ran my fingers through his hair. “Eric. I’m fine.” Cupping his face in both hands, I said, “Now go enjoy your evening with your daughter, and we’ll catch up on spending time together this weekend.”

  He smirked. “Is ‘spending time together’ a euphemism?”

  “You’re damn right it is.”

  “Good.” He pulled me to him and kissed me. We both started to pull away, hesitated and sank into a longer kiss.

  After a moment, I drew back, and our eyes met. Like that kiss, the eye contact lingered, and I caught myself drawing in a breath like I was about to speak, but I wasn’t sure what I’d thought to say.

  Finally, Eric cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. “Anyway. I guess Marie and I will see you tomorrow night?” His eyebrows rose.

  I smiled. “Of course.”

  He kissed me once more, briefly this time, and after we exchanged one last lingering look, I left.

  ~*~

  As I drove, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Eric and his daughter interacted. Admittedly, something about what I felt was jealousy, but not in the sense that I wanted to get territorial or that I was looking forward to Marie leaving so I could have Eric to myself. Not even close. I would never have dreamed of wanting to get between a parent and child.

  But there was something. Something I couldn’t put my finger on. A knot that tightened as the two of them carried on with their rapid-fire banter and easy conversation. A heavy feeling that sank a little deeper when Eric ribbed Marie about her taste in boys, or they both teased each other about their respective bad habits behind the wheel, or he deadpanned a few cutthroat suggestions for metho
ds of eliminating competition for the varsity softball team next year.

  About halfway home from Eric’s apartment, as I sat at a red light, a piece fell into place, and I suddenly understood what it was about them that threw me.

  I envied them.

  They bantered. They had the same sense of humor, enjoyed the same video games, and knew exactly how to playfully jab at each other. They knew each other.

  And, with that heavy, sinking feeling in my gut, I realized I didn’t know my kids like that. If I was honest with myself, I didn’t know them at all. I saw them so rarely it was like interacting with my nieces and nephews, not my own children. After watching Eric with his daughter, I couldn’t help realizing the twins were strangers to me. I loved them more than life itself, but I didn’t know them.

  That needed to change, and while I didn’t relish the thought, I may have had an idea about how to make that change.

  ~*~

  I shut the front door behind me and leaned against it. All the way here after that stoplight epiphany, I’d told myself what I needed to do, but now that I was home, nerves threatened to close in on me.

  No, I can do this. It’s long overdue.

  I pushed myself off the door and crossed the living room to the couch. I picked up my laptop, opened it and rested it on my knee.

  While my computer powered up, I glanced at my watch. It was a little after eight o’clock here, which meant it was seven in the morning in Pennsylvania. Knowing my ex-wife, she’d be up by now. She usually got up early to take care of e-mails and such while the kids were still asleep.

  Heart thundering, I opened up the IM program I used to talk to my kids when they were at my parents’ house. I pulled up the Add User function and, after a long moment of hesitation, entered my ex-wife’s e-mail address.

  My finger hovered over the button, and the cursor hovered over Send. Holding my breath, I pushed the button, and as soon as the pop-up window disappeared, panic rushed through me. Fuck, what was I doing?

  Too late. No turning back.

  I refreshed my e-mail in-box. Again. Then I read a news site, checked a couple of blogs I liked to read, and checked a few I hadn’t looked at it in months, just to give myself something to do. When I refreshed my in-box again, there was nothing. Five minutes later, still nothing.