In the distanceI came home late last night.
Light years from tomorrow
But far beyond yesterday
She is watching
Heart aching with sorrow
She is broken, as she waits
Hoping that when all is said and done, we learn to love and be as one
Oh Starlight
Don’t you cry we’re gonna make it right before tomorrow
Oh Starlight
Don’t you cry we’re going to find a place where we belong
And so you know you’ll never shine alone
One last chance to show you the kind of man I can be, he said as we boarded the plane.
One last chance to show you I mean you no harm, he said, as he took my hand and kissed it and a shiver went down my spine.
One last chance to show you I have always loved you, he said as he lifted his cupped hand and poured hot water down my shoulders and over my back. I closed my eyes and leaned against his chest, my forehead against his clavicle. I let his arms draw me in and I let go of everything I was holding. My worries. My fear. His request for this moment. I let the heat of the water overcome me and my mind was blank, gloriously parked in a wooded glade, not racing down the asphalt at two hundred kilometres an hour. Picking flowers would have taken too much effort, I just stared into the sun through the trees.
Princess.
I jolted and my nose bumped his ear as I raised my head. Caleb passed me my wine, against my better judgement of things made of glass in the bathtub. I took it but he held it for an extra beat in case I wasn't actually coherent.
You fell asleep.
Almost.
He smiled his millionaire smile and I took a sip from the glass and when the steam cleared from my eyes I made a note that he wasn't Cole and that was okay because he was Caleb, like Cole 2.0, new and improved, richer and longer lasting and I laughed out loud and I swear to God that man doesn't count his worth in terms of dollars anymore but that's what men are like when I am around.
It was a good weekend, an uproariously fun weekend, full of airplanes and crowds and wine and kind Russians and kind Czechs (?) too and singing and sleeping and holding our breath that first day during qualifying when I thought I was about to see a plane crash with my own eyes but thankfully it didn't and I'm glad for the health of the pilot and for the fact that last night I had to board the teeny-tiny private jet to come back home. I'm glad for Ben because he had an absolute blast and came away with a new effort to get and keep his newfound sobriety in order to regain his wings which could someday make him the oldest pilot in the air race (but don't tell him that part) and he was content to share his stake in Bridget with no strings attached like the ones that tie me to Lochlan because I don't need-need Caleb. I just want him in my life and I'm done making apologies to the one-love folks and to the boys. I'm just done making apologies period. I'm finally at a place in my life where I can choose what I want and maybe that's mixed with a tiny streak of recklessness for the simple fact that I can't bring the dead back to life. But only for color and flavour. I like my recklessness light.
Suffice it to say there's a huge comfort to be gained from standing in between the Dark Lords. I never once felt like a ghost could sneak up on me, never felt the need for Lochlan's comfort, the kind I have sought out religiously since 1979. I just wanted to have fun and I did, so everyone should be happy for me. My face hurt from smiling. That doesn't happen. Caleb and Ben? Both romantic and that doesn't happen all the time either but when it does it's like Christmas mixed with fireworks and cotton candy and God. Like holy sticky exploding things.
NICE.
Snort.
Ben even bought me flowers, which I brought home with us. Gerbera daisies in the colors of the planes I liked best because I mentioned in passing that I wanted to have so many flowers in the house it would be positively stupid. Because he hears everything and misses nothing and tries so hard to accommodate my every whim, even the really stupid/bad idea ones, and because he's so incredibly generous with me I think all the boys should get down on their knees and worship him if we rolled like that but we don't.
And Lochlan didn't much like the fact that I went away with Ben and with Satan but when I came back he was quick to be cajoled into a long hold and then he could see how he has an addiction of a different sort and in his heart he lives on his knees for me, and that's ironic because in our spare time late at night he would spend hours standing in the middle of the dirt road behind the tent, long after the crowds had filtered away, teaching me how to juggle. Patiently. Tirelessly.
One last chance to make you the star of the show, Bridgie.
And now I am.
And oh, I think I finally having the juggling part down. At last. This is awesome.