If she wanted you she wouldn't keep choosing men to put in front of you. Don't be so hopeful.
I heard his words even from inside, carried through the window and into my ears. I wanted to unhear it. Caleb still screwing Lochlan to the wall, making sure to grind it in good so it would hurt the most, going on almost thirty years now. Lochlan doesn't need to be told things he already knows.
* * *
They gave a seventeen-year-old guardianship rights for a twelve-year-old-girl?
Eighteen. I'm eighteen now.
Whatever, kid. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.
Lochlan turned away from the gruff but kindly house manager and smiled at me with his teenage bravado. It's okay, peanut. Just paperwork. Here, take this change and go get some juice for us.
* * *
We took off for a late bike ride. It was warm and bright out. I held on tight against his back as he raced down the highway, my eyes closed. I can be young again that way, before everything became so complicated. Maybe he does that too. We are putting a lot of miles on this bike together, it seems. We've put a lot of miles on the planet already and far too many on each other.
He is putting gas in the bike while I play with the buttons on the pump.
He's right, you know. You just keep doing it.
I say nothing. I'm not going to have the same argument we always have here. I don't want to be left behind. I shake my head and he turns the key to start the bike. Conversation ends. I can't hear him anyway.
* * *
What do people do when they don't travel anymore?
With the show, you mean?
Yes. I am finishing the salty bits in the bottom of a cup of french fries.
He sits up and stares out to see, squinting slightly. He always looks like he's about to find the flaw in my logic when he has this expression.
I don't know, Bridge. I guess they pick a place they like best and live out the end of their days. We can find a little house we like and we can sit on the back porch watching the sea and trading our favorite memories. When the midway comes to town we'll go and ride the rides and eat cotton candy and have a wonderful day.
I smile into the sun, shaking my head to get my hair out of my eyes.
I need to trim your bangs again, he says and the moment of warmth is over. He is parental again. Worrying too much. We fight. I don't want bangs anymore and it's my hair.
* * *
Why didn't you just stay with me.
I don't answer, since it is less of a question and more of an accusation, a regret. I could point out that he was the one who freaked out and left me, so coldly so he wouldn't have to feel it, knowing I had a place to land, foolishly thinking he was doing the right thing.
You keep..you keep doing this. Just out of reach and I can't hold on to you.
It's been a long day. I dump my wine into the grass and set the glass down on the table. I'm going to head inside.
Just stay here for a few minutes, please, peanut.
I don't want to fight with you, Lochlan.
We won't. Okay? We won't fight. I just like having you to myself.
I look at the moon. He has gone back into subconscious territory, where everything he thinks about comes rushing out to poke at and burn our hearts, turning tingles into stabbing agony and inklings into paroxysms.
Don't listen to Caleb when he talks to you. It serves no purpose.
I could say the same for you. You have to stay away from him.
I can't. I have Henry.
He swears under his breath and settles low into the chair, taking a long drink from his beer. I wish he would put down the beer. I wish he would put down the past.
We got our retirement, didn't we? He chuckles to himself. The expression on his face is the furthest thing from humor that I have ever seen.
What?
Remember when we talked about what we would do when we were too old to travel with the show anymore and I said we would live by the sea and sit in our chairs watching the waves? Well, here we fucking are, peanut. I should have been the fortune teller. This is to the letter. Maybe we made it after all.
Yeah. I can't think anymore. My eyes filled up and drowned out the thoughts in my head.
Only you're bound to someone else. Someone who doesn't even fucking deserve you.
Lochlan, don't. (My mouth moved but no sound came out.)
You belong to me.
I stand up so fast, I knock over my chair.
I know. It wasn't what I meant to say, though and I clapped my hands over my mouth, horrified.
* * *
I hand him a coffee, automatically. I have set out nine different cups out this morning. His is blue. I always pour his first and I don't know why. Oh yeah, he is always closest.
Thank you, gorgeous.
He's in such a good mood. I almost drop the cup on the floor between us.
Loch-
Don't, Bridget. Just leave it. Whether it's true or not, just leave it. Please. It's all I have now. I wanted things to turn out differently, I take too much from you now but please, whatever you do, don't take that sentence back.
What sentence? Ben is behind Lochlan suddenly and I startle and then I do drop my full mug of coffee on the floor.
You need a keeper, little bee.
She has one, Lochlan says, to no one in particular.
