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The little bit of time we spent together in the evenings was like it had always been except that I found myself looking at her differently. One night Lucille had gone to bed early so I opened a new bottle of Jack and started doing my thing. The drinking, however, hadn’t really changed yet. I recalled how her mother used to do that when she was about to go… No fucking way is THAT about to happen
Lucille moved to the bottom of the bed and sat in between my feet that she had spread apart to make room for her. It all seemed like routine. Maybe I usually had a hard-on when she put me to bed and she was just used to it? “It’s time to go to bed Daddy.”
“Honey I…”
“No arguments now.
