And baby you hurt oh I knowI am busy. I'm folding laundry and bouncing back and forth between the piles of clothing (stacked in piles according to wearers) and the kitchen, cleaning up and preparing for the next meal. I run the household much like the army does, if I knew anything about the army at all. I have no time for this and yet he's tearing moments apart looking for space anyway.
Things we did they just won't die
But life it goes on
Gotta live
We gotta live with how it feels
Down there inside
The feelings that you fight
The demons that you hide
Know you're not alone in how you feel
The ribbon is black with tiny embroidered daisies. It seemed summery so I tied it around my ponytail in a neat bow. By the end of the day it will be jammed into Ben's back pocket when he finds it unraveled on the patio or in the front hall. By then my ponytail will be low and loose, escaped waves everywhere. Disaster and nothing less than the usual.
The Devil puts his hand out to touch the ribbon but I am already on the other side of the kitchen, drying the big pots and pans to be put away.
Bridget.
Yes?
Nothing. I just wanted to be sure of you.
I stop moving and my blood begins a slow simmer, bubbling up into my veins until everything is covered in a red film.
You don't get to use those.
Use what?
Don't think I don't know those quotes better than you think I do. I only forget new things. Insignificant things like 'pick up milk', or 'show me that song'.
So not a decade of trading Pooh quotes with Preacher?
Never. My limbs have become mired in quicksand. Everything is heavy. I can forget about the weight too but once reminded I can't lift it anymore, let alone carry it through the days and nights, unwelcome.
If you want to continue them I'm game. He looks uncomfortable, as if he is deigning to stoop to some level he doesn't want to be on but finds himself on anyway in an effort to jockey for Alpha designation.
I'd rather die than give you any of the honor and familiarity of Jacob's love for me.
I don't need it, princess. I have my own memories with you. I was simply offering an outlet.
Yeah, you're good at that, aren't you?
I just want you to be happy. That's all any of us want, Bridget. We want to be the one to make you happy.
Then stop making me miserable!
Achievement unlocked. Hot tears have spilled over. My nose stings, my skin turns pink, my eyes turn turquoise-blue. He is fascinated, pulling me in against his chest, his fingers locked around my arms, lifting me up to my toes, staring down into my eyes with a wonder that never changes even though he has borne witness to this strange phenomenon for most of my life. I have tried to change how it happens but I guess I should give up after all these years. It's just the way I cry.
It's the last thing I want.
Could have fooled me.
Look, I understand the disappointment. I've been there. You have to remember this way you can continue to honor Cole's memory and Ruth does not have to switch allegiance which would be difficult at her age and unfair after all this time. She took Cole's death particularly hard, you know.
You're really going to be all self-righteous about this, aren't you?
No. Look, I feel for the guy. I know he was hoping for a positive outcome.
He would have made a good father.
He does make a good father, Bridget. We all do our part. This way he doesn't get to claim ownership and then drop it later when it suits him.
Just leave.
Like he did with you.
Just GO. Please. Get out. I don't need this.
You should come with me. I'm consistent. I haven't changed, I've never made you second-guess me. I've never changed my mind. I've never denied you anything, princess.
He wouldn't do that with Ruth.
No one thought he would do that with you, Bridget.
He made a mistake. He came back.
And look what it did to you. I wouldn't give my allegiance to someone who hurt me like that. How do you trust someone who does that? How do you continue to throw yourself at them only to be continually pushed back down? What in the hell does he have that the rest of us don't, Bridget? Why can't you just let him go? Everyone blames me for brainwashing you and it wasn't me. It was never me. I tried to save you from him.
His eyes are red now. I am dumbstruck by how vulnerable he looks and now I understand. Wide open, unchecked, miserable and desperate. Naked. It is a gift to be permitted to see someone this exposed. We all wear so many layers to protect from prying eyes. Little Bridget will forever be twelve years old and completely defenseless in the eyes of the Devil.
She doesn't need to be saved from me.
Lochlan is in the doorway and Caleb lets go of my arms gently, releasing me back to the floor, resuming control of his expression, this one weary hatred tempered with a superiority that masks the relief. The smug decorum, the shot-cuffs, pressed-collar, time-is-money glance at his watch.
And with that he is off, striding out the door, stopping on the verandah to say goodbye to the children, collecting the long hugs they give him with assurances of return in a days' time, crossing the driveway to duck into his new black Porsche, roaring out onto the street, away-away. Fly away home.
What was that all about? What did he say to you?
I turned back to face Lochlan, my bloodshot eyes and overwhelmed mind refusing to censor anything. Fuck it.
He says you make a good father to Ruth, even without the paperwork to prove it.
That means he's up to new tricks.
Maybe he just envies you. Did you ever consider that?
No, he sees me as the only obstacle standing in his way.
I think he's given up.
God, that dreamworld you live in, peanut? It's positively epic. I get why you sleep at night, you fill your own head with lies.
It's better than the alternative.
What alternative?
Remembering the truth.