Tuesday, 11 December 2007

A little relief, a fourth post. I have no life.

Hey, baby girl.

Hello, Lochlan.

Ben's fine. He came to me before I could go track him down.

Can you talk him out of going to see Caleb?

Too late.

Oh, shit.

No, he's fine, Bridgie. He's here for the night. We're toasting to new beginnings and talking about you.

Oh, that explains the nickname-fest.

I'm on my way to bed soon. Parenthood and alcohol don't mix.

Loch, is Ben drinking?

Of course not. He's not supposed to, right?

Right. Thank God. So he's okay-okay?

The devil didn't eat him, if that's what you were worried about. His soul appears intact, anyway.

I'm glad you called.

So do you want to fill me in on what happened between you and Caleb?

No, not really.

I could always get Ben drunk and then he'll tell me.

That is so not funny, Lochlan.

I know. Sorry. Are you okay?

Should I be?

Eventually. Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow. I just didn't want you to worry. Ben said he would have called but that you're not speaking to him.

Yeah, I don't know what we're doing. We're fighting.

He thought this would be smoother, baby.

There's nothing to be smooth about. I'm not property.

No one thinks you are.

Everyone thinks I am. I was bequeathed, for fuck's sakes.

No, I don't think it was like that. I think Jake wanted to eliminate some of the pressure.

He didn't and I'm so angry, Loch.

Do me a favor, Bridgie and just talk to Ben. Sort it out so you at least are surrounded by magic and not tension, okay, please?

I'll try, Loch.

Thank you, now I'm going to bed while I can, Miss Hope just passed out cold on Ben.

Send me some more pictures, will you?

Will do. Love you.

Love you too.