(The pearls and cameo pinks competed with the cerulean and cyan streaks of blue for attention this morning and they had it from darkness onward. Rapt. Hypnotized by a moment and she went back for more, standing on the back steps watching the pinks dissolve and the brightest blues fade into pale representations of themselves. The culmination of warm light with such vibrant colors is a gift, albeit a fleeting one, like life itself. She spins and spins and hums to herself even though she can't hear it. She can feel the vibrations. That's enough.
Dreams are popped like balloons, words thrown around carelessly, regret and frustration remain bookmarked right where we left them, ready to pick up and carry along. These days are hard, she said, and he knew exactly what she meant in spite of the fact that she's on a different page. He has already read that one and can advise her of excitement or sorrow to come. No, don't tell me! She implores him not to give away the surprises, if only that she can discover them on her own. Otherwise there is no point.
The rain threatens to melt away her transparent facade so that all can see, voyeurs clawing at her emotions. Blatant, curious stares returned to her instead of comfort. She shakes her head in denial and she goes and does what she was going to do anyway.)
***
Dance, Bridget.
I was! Sorry you missed it.
More, then. I can wait. I want to watch you.
Suddenly I'm embarrassed but I push my chin up and tell him the moment has passed. Sort of like the sunrise.
I saw it. It was beautiful, no?
It was.
Thanks for the cookies in the kitchen.
Oh! You're welcome. How many did you have?
The plate.
You ate them all?
Yeah, they were so good...I'm sorry, was I not supposed to?
I was hoping Cole would get a chance to have at least one.
I didn't know. Look, I can say they were taken to the station and enjoyed. I've been talking to Cole anyway. Letting him know that if he has any concerns or if he needs to talk to someone I'm here. If I can help him-
It's okay. Everything's alright.
My mind is racing. He's talking to Cole? Oh, maybe this is not okay and I just try and do things the way I think they should work and then if they don't work I wait for help. But I don't know who will help with this. Andrew is always away. Lochlan? Are you kidding? Don't even ask. Christian might feel as if he is forced to pick sides. Daniel is a big monkey, he throws food and makes me laugh but he's not strong enough by half. Duncan is too busy with his rhyme-less poems and his minimalist image and Caleb could buy a fix but then his shadowy private backers would come looking for payment with interest and I can't even go there. Ben? I try not to complicate his life, he does that enough for both of us and he's never home either so here I am, knees dirty, tape in hand, trying to refasten the corners of what used to be a pretty picture to the heavens, keeping it level with the horizon.
But I didn't know that Jacob was trying to reach out to Cole. That's unexpected. Unscripted. Mindbreakingly touching to me. It leaves me almost as warm as it makes me angry. A surge of courage brings me to my feet and I am back in charge of my emotions for a precious few minutes. His words will be useless anyway. Thrown against Cole, who will swat them away unread. Unwelcome. Unnecessary and suspicious. It would be believing war strategies told to you by the enemy you are trying to defeat. Cole isn't stupid. This is only going to make it worse.
I'll make more cookies. Cole will like that.
Jacob nods but he's not buying it. The expression on his face has been upgraded from mild chagrin at not saving any dessert to overwhelming concern at my excuses. I reach up with both hands and try to form his cheeks into a smile. I pull his beard gently, tugging on his face but he only winds up looking darker and more dismayed. I turn away.
If cookies can serve as a catalyst, it's time you leave him, Bridget.
I turned around again and smile with what I hope is a light scowl. Bright and fake as anything. It's not that. I'm just still embarrassed that you almost caught me dancing in the sun.
Such a bad liar, princess. I hope you never fix that. His eyes soften now. The color matches the sky I witnessed this morning and I am humbled. I see God in his eyes. How fitting for a preacher to show this to me.
I shake my head. Would you believe me if I told you things are better?
He watches me struggle to maintain my position, perched on a slab of subterfuge so sharp it's leaving deep grooves in my skin. They begin to bleed.
No, Bridget. I wouldn't. It's far too late for that.
