A Fall in the City - Chapter 06 (Patreon)

A FALL IN THE CITY

Chapter 6: Lova Lova

I think I met Fran at the perfect time in my life.

Once we started settling down in our new routine, things got more complicated between Blake and I.

We were both definitely feeling bad about what we were doing behind Liv’s back, and I was starting to resent him for sleeping with her every damn night.

No need to lecture me, I am fully aware that I had no right to feel that way. Just being real here.

Every time they showed the slightest display of affection, I had to leave the room, and soon, the apartment.

To be fair, it was the same thing anytime they started arguing, I felt responsible for anything wrong going on between them, and all I wanted was to flee the scene.

This is how I found myself searching for a bar where I could get away from them on Sunday night.

That was the good thing living in a large city, I was not lacking of options when it came to places to go out.  

The problem was: how the hell was I supposed to know where to go?

Back at the farm, if I wanted to have an evening out, there was this sleazy pub at a half-hour drive away from home and that was it. Easy, no need to wreck my brain around it.

In Sacramento, every place seemed crowded and filled with 20-something getting ready to party.

Karaoke bar, girls’ night, quiz and board games…

I just wanted to drink my whiskey in peace God damn it!

Eventually, at about fifteen minutes of walking from the building where we lived with Blake and Liv, I found a place which looked somewhat decent.

A sort of jazz club where people above 40 felt like they belonged and where you could go by yourself without feeling weird about it. Not that I cared much about what others might think about me.

There was a guy playing the saxophone live, I sat on a stool near the bar and I ordered a scotch, neat.

Finally, I could breathe.

The place was not empty but it was not crowded either.

A couple in their thirties were making out in a corner, a group of black older men were seemingly very into the music, another group of friends was chatting all throughout the performance, and there was this one woman sitting by herself on the other side of the bar.

I could barely see anyone’s face given the dark blueish atmosphere of the jazz club.

I liked it better that way.

Something odd happened when I tried to pay my drink to the bartender. A tall guy with very dark hair and a neatly-trimmed beard.

“Someone’s already taken care of that for you.” The guy told me with a wink.

“What?”

The bartender looked at the older woman, the only one sitting at the bar.

She had offered me my drink?

That was a first! Men were usually the ones pulling that move. Again, city life was full of surprises…

What was I supposed to do? Thank her?

Now that I was taking a closer look, it was obvious that she was way older than me.

She was wearing a fancy black dress with some glitter, and had gone heavy with the make-up, - especially the red lipstick -, but she could not fool anyone, she was certainly deep in her sixties, or even more likely, in her seventies.

She smiled at me while slurping on her margarita, leaving a red mark on her straw.

Did she think I was a gigolo of some sort? Her jewellery indicated that she had money. I was not expert but the gems around her neck did not look fake.

I nodded at her politely but I left it at that.

I mean, I had not asked for a damn thing, I could buy my own drinks.

I ordered a second scotch and I made sure to pay right away. No funny business.

The saxophone playing and the alcohol relaxed me; I did not notice the woman moving and sitting right next to me.

She was persistent.

“Did that hurt your ego, an independent woman buying you a drink?”

She spoke in a smooth, slightly hoarse voice.

As I suspected, up-close and personal, she certainly looked like she was over 70 years old.

“My ego is fine.”

She had a small laugh.

“I’m glad. You don’t look like you belong here.” She commented when the saxophonist had stopped playing.

“I don’t care about belonging.” I replied.

“I just meant; this is why I offered you a drink. I wanted to show you that you were welcomed anyway. It’s nice to see new faces in here.”

“I don’t know what kind of people you usually deal with, Madam, but I’m not one to seek approval or reinsurance.”

“I can see that now.”

She did not seem bothered by my tone.

I did feel like I had been a bit harsh with her. Maybe I was in a bad mood because I had left Blake and Olivia all intertwined with each other, watching a movie.

“Thanks for the drink anyway.”

“Clearly, you didn’t appreciate the gesture but that’s fine. You’ll buy me my next drink and we’ll be even.”

“Nicely done. Now, I don’t really have the choice. Interesting flirting technique.” I told her with a smile.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not hitting on you. As you may have noted, I am way past my time of hooking up with men in bars.”

“I’m not worried on bit.”

“I know everyone here; I had never seen you around… I thought I could offer you some company, not that I’m too busy myself. But if you’d prefer to spend the evening alone, I won’t get offended. We all need to be by ourselves sometimes.”

“Nah… That’s fine. I’ll get you that drink, what would you like? Was that a margarita you were drinking earlier?”

“Yes, but I think I can move on to the Chardonnay.”

“Fine. One Chardonnay for the lady, Sir.” I told the bartender.

I wondered if he was used to see that woman preying on men in his bar or if this was not ordinary.

In any case, he did not show any kind of reactions. He was a professional.

“I’m Fran.” She told me once she had her glass of wine.

“Joe.”

I had never been a man of many words but thankfully, Fran did not seem too eager to talk either.

We listened to the musician playing another tune in silence. He was good at this, although, I did not have much comparison.

When he took a recess, I decided to order a third scotch and Fran engaged the conversation once again.

“I don’t see a wedding ring on this finger.”

“You really are hitting on me, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. I’m afraid you’re too old for my taste.” She teased.

That made me smile.

“I’m a widow.” I explained laconically.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s been more than ten years ago, I’m okay with it. You don’t have a wedding ring either.” I pointed out.

“I’m not a widow though, although sometimes I wish! Things would be easier. I have divorced four times. Four assholes.”

That was a bit insensitive, but for some reason, it made me like her more.

“Four. Impressive record.”

“Well, what can I say? I have lived… What are you doing in Sacramento?”

“That’s a long story.”

“I assume there’s no way to make it short? I’d like to know before the show continues.” She looked at the empty stage.

“I can make this simple, I guess. I own a farm in Utah but the barn and my house burnt down a couple weeks ago, part of the roof collapsed and I cannot stay there anymore. I’ve moved in with my daughter and her boyfriend here, just until the major repairs are over.”

“Oh… That must be a pain in the arse.”

I chuckled.

“It for sure is.”

“It’s good that you can count on your daughter though, I have two sons and five grand children and I barely see them anymore.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, I deserve it. I was a bitch to them.”

Again, I appreciated her bluntness.

“I’m not father of the year either, trust me.”

“I suppose we do what we can. We all make mistakes… I was too focused on my career, on my frenetic life, on the men I was meeting. They looked handsome back then; we could encounter real gentlemen. Maybe I was too selfish to be a mother.”

“Your career? What was it?”

Right on cue, the saxophone player came back to the stage, but this time, he called someone to join him.

I did not pay attention to that until Fran stood up and walked towards the stage herself.

“A round of applause for Lova Lova.” The musician demanded.

People clapped and I joined them.

That explained Fran’s fancy outfit, she was the main performer of the night.

“I recognize some familiar faces.” She told on the microphone. “Now, you know the drill, I’m not too demanding on the applause but please, do compensate with some good tips on Sergio, our favourite bartender.”

Fran had a residence there, that made sense.

I had immediately noticed that her voice was quite peculiar and it showed even more when she was singing some jazzy tunes.

That evening, I spent a full hour listening to her.

Google told me that Lova Lova had been a quite popular celebrity in the eighties and nineties. I had obviously missed it.

Being in the know when it came to music or culture had never been my strong suit.

Her Wikipedia page could not tell me her exact age as multiple date of births had been given throughout the years, but Fran Davis (also known as Lova Lova) was between 68 and 75 years old.

The page concluded that way:

“Late career: Lova Lova has never stopped singing, she keeps performing to this day in local clubs, mainly in Northern-California where she lives.”

She had released not less than twenty record albums. Who would have thought I had just met a star? Certainly not me.

Unfortunately, she left through a back door at the end of the show and I did not get to say her goodbye.

My night out had worked as I had planned though, it had been a much-needed distraction.

When I came back to the apartment, the atmosphere was very different. I found Blake alone in the kitchen, he was wearing ample light-blue underpants which he used as pyjamas.

Dang it, he always looked hot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I cannot even open a damn beer!” He grunted, struggling with his right hand.

“Let me help you, idiot.”

He handed me the beer. He seemed annoyed.

“How was it? Did you find a place you liked?” Blake asked me.

“I did. What is up with you? Why the bitterness?”

“I’m just tired of this damn cast.”

“Is Olivia sleeping already?”

I gave him back the beer.

“She’s in our room, we had a fight.”

That explained the mood…

I got worried.

“About what?”

“Don’t sweat it, Joe, it had nothing to do with…” He whispered the next part. “With us.”

“I don’t like it when you guys argue.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You like it better when we fuck?”

“No.” I replied harshly.

I did not appreciate his tone or what he was implying.

He sighed.

“Sorry, I’m a little on edge.”

“That’s fine. We knew it would be difficult to have me around all the time…” I told him, feeling once again like it was my fault.

“I don’t think that’s it. It almost feels like Liv tries to be cooler when you’re in the apartment. We started to argue when you left actually. Things have just been difference since she came back from London.”

I could see why.

“It will get better. She’s been gone for three months and then, there was the fire at the farm. You both have to adjust.”

Blake grabbed my wrist with his left hand.

“Joe, seriously, do you wish for things to get better between me and Liv?”

I gulped.

At times, Blake was scary, like he was about to spill everything to Olivia.

“Of course, I want you both to be happy.”

“Yeah… Sure.”

He drank his beer in one go.

“You’re sure, you’re okay?”

“I never said that I was.”

Fuck, now I felt even worse. I hate those freaking emotions’ switches.

“Blake…”

“I should go to my room; we shouldn’t even be talking here.”

On this, he was right.

I let him go and I prepared the couch.

We had been living all together for barely a full week and things were already starting to go south.

Obviously, Liv must have been feeling that Blake was more distant with her.

When he went working on the farm, he was seriously considering proposing to her, but what did he want now? Me?

When I woke up the next morning, tension was still running high inside the apartment, although, Liv was pretending like everything was fine.

“Dad, sorry, I have to use the living room, I have a video-call to make for work.”

I stretched myself and tried to hide my usual morning wood.

“No problem, honey.” I told her.

“Blake, you’re very late, we have to go in ten minutes! Hurry!”

Blake came out of his bedroom yawning. He was wearing the same long pair of underpants. His dick did not look like it was stiffed though. Good.

“Relax, babe. We’ll make it on time.”

“I’ve told you yesterday that I would have calls to make this morning. We should have anticipated this. I cannot spend all my time taking care of you, Blake!”

“Wow. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re not even able to put on a pair of pants by yourself!”

“I can!”

I knew for sure that he could not, or at least, not in a reasonable amount of time.

“Look, I have to do this now. Dad, can you help Blake dressing up so we’re all ready to go when I’m done with the call?”

“Sure.” I immediately replied.

I should have offered my help earlier.

Olivia sat behind the kitchen counter with her laptop, she put ear phones on, and she launched her video call.

Suddenly, she looked all collected and professional. She was very impressive.

The only problem was that she was literally facing us.

She was mainly watching the computer’s screen but I was supposed to help Blake fit into a pair of jeans right in front of her.

Given our history, that was far from being ideal!

“I need to change underwear too…” Blake whispered to me.

Of course, he did…

This could not be more awkward.

“Well, that’s fine. Liv knows that I’ve already helped you shower, I can see you naked.” I whispered back, jaded.

Like it was his cue, he slid down his underpants and exposed his cock in the middle of the living room.

I got chills thinking of Olivia watching this innocently behind us. Just two straight men helping each other out. Right?

“I’ve prepared the clothes I wanted to put on.” Said Blake. “They’re on my bed.”

I went to fetch them quickly while Olivia was discussing library’s fees and other administrative stuff with the person on the phone.

She did not seem to care one bit about her boyfriend being naked a few feet away from her, or about her dad, helping him out.

I knelt down next to Blake with the pair of black boxer briefs he had chosen.

“Lift up your right leg, idiot.”

He smiled at me. He was being cheeky.

Blake looked like he was doing much better than the night before. Liv was the one being all stressed that morning.

“What am I supposed to do now?” He asked to toy with me, the boxer briefs handing around his left calve.

“Now, you lift up your right leg and you shut your damn mouth!”

His flaccid dick was dangling before my eyes.

It was dangerously becoming a semi. I quickly glanced at Olivia; she was very focused on her call. Thank God!

He lifted his leg and I was finally able to pull the briefs up to his thighs and then right under his waist, going over his bubble butt.

I noticed that Blake’s pubic hairs were trimmed a little.

I wondered if he had managed to do that himself or if Olivia had taken care of his genitals.

I must have dozed off in front of his junks because he had to remind me of the next step.

“Joe? The pair of jeans?”

“Oh, yes. Of course.”

I went to get them and in the same way, I helped him put it on.

I buttoned everything up and felt his cock and balls against my hands all throughout. He was definitely getting hard, and so was I.

I was only wearing underwear though, I had to be cautious and I made sure not to get too excited.

To be fair, I only had to look at Olivia to calm down.

“Sit down on the couch, I’m gonna put the socks on.”

“Yes, Sir!”

I liked everything about Blake’s body but I do not think that I have already mentioned his feet. It is a shame because I enjoyed them very much as well.

I had never been a foot freak per se, but I could appreciate some manly feet, not too hairy, - especially compared to mine -, and ticklish.

This was the best part about Blake’s soles, how I could get him to have a reaction anytime I was caressing them. The way he was giggling as I was barely rubbing them would never miss to turn me on.

Besides, I owed him to service his feet once in a while. When I was asking him to, he would take my hairy (and often super-stinky) toes to shove them inside his mouth.

It was only right to return the favour from times to times.

Since it was his first day of class, - orientation for their senior years -, Olivia had made him wear a white shirt, pretty classy.

It was a bit of a struggle to help him put it on since it was very tight but I have to say, it was a great choice and he did look good afterwards.

“Funny how I’m going to class just to show up. I cannot even take notes.”

Olivia who had just ended her call without us realizing, intervened. She did not seem to be in a better mood.

“It’s not just to show up, Blake, you can still listen to everything and you won’t have this cast forever.”

“Thank God! Not having a right hand is getting very old, you know. I’m not having the best time either.”

“Less than a week before you’re free.” I said to appease the tension.

“Thanks for helping him out, dad. I’ve told you we would need you here.”

“No problem, honey.” I kissed her forehead.

“We really have to go now.” Olivia grabbed the car keys.

“Say hi to Eric, Zaid and the others for me!” I told Blake before he left.

“Will do, da… Joe! Will do!”

Shit.

He had almost called me daddy.

Hopefully, Olivia had not noticed anything.