Tuesday 4 March 2014

Death threats, broken glasses and an unsalvageable Valentino dress. Here's a birthday that will go down in history.

Looking out for love
In the night so still
Oh I'll build you a kingdom
In that house on the hill
I took my turn when it came, standing, holding a glass of champagne, flushed almost as red as my dress by then from two full glasses, as I watched the Devil sit and smile at me virtually all evening, except when he would turn his attention to the speeches made by each of us, as is birthday tradition.

I told him I was proud of him for slowing down, for knowing when to focus on his health and put his somewhat thoroughly redundant business efforts aside. I brought up his generosity with myself, both children, and with Loch. With Daniel. With Duncan. With all of us. I said I hoped he would find happiness and health and a long life ahead in which to do all the things he hasn't done yet. Someone called out for him to list something he hasn't done yet and he answered without skipping a beat.

Get married, he said as he stared at me and I wrapped it up and sat back down so hard I feared I bruised something.

Oh, but then Loch stood up, ignoring his champagne and his four-times-empty whiskey glass (not to mention the fact that it wasn't even his turn). PJ asked the servers to cut him off half an hour ago. Maybe we were too late. He clears his throat and addresses the birthday boy.

There once was a man from the East
at a fifty-first birthday feast
He tried taking my wife,
So I took his life
And that! Was the end! of the beast!

And then he flipped the fucking table like it was nothing.

And Valentino and I took a shower in champagne and broken glass.

But it's okay, no one cared about that. I think they forget precisely how acrobatic he is, as he went right over the sideways table and tackled Caleb off his chair.

And then it was over, because you have to be pretty fast to get a punch in with this crew sitting between the two of them. Mostly I sat there in disbelief and gratitude because we didn't bring the children. Ruth gets bored. Henry didn't want to go but wants cake later. Thank God they didn't see this. Would he have done it if they had been here?

Another restaurant off our list as we are asked to gather our things. Right away. Caleb leaves his card for a damages tally. I consider making a glass angel in all of the shattered flutes on the floor but we have to leave.

Outside the restaurant Caleb takes my hand and pulls me behind him and then drags me down the sidewalk toward Lochlan. PJ tries to hold him back, Christian is trying to extricate me. Too close. Schuyler steps between them. Christ almighty.

Caleb points over Schuyler's shoulder, right in Loch's face.

I try to be generous with you. I put up with no small amount of abuse and after everything I have done for you and to make it up to Bridget I think you should either learn to control yourself or I'll start excluding you from everything, including my home. You'll learn these lessons one way or another, Lochlan. Bridget will be coming home with me. You don't even deserve her. What in the fuck have you done in the past decade anyway? What do you do to make her life better, you fucking useless piece of-

You keep talking and I'll never speak to you again, I say to Caleb as I wrench my hand out of his and fight my way out of Christian's grasp too and shove my way past Schuyler, crashing against Lochlan in my ruined dress. The look on his face is frightening. Everything he fears most is playing out and I don't even think he has registered that I'm right there until I touch his face.

Let's go home.

Bridget, we aren't finished here. (Caleb keeps it going, just because he can.)

I DON'T FUCKING CARE, CALEB. You did this. You baited him. Who else do you want to marry?

Most people let it roll off. He's uncontrollable.

No, your brother was uncontrollable. Lochlan is just frustrated, he has a short fuse.

Ah, another fire metaphor.

See you tomorrow. We'll reschedule dessert.

I ignore the shocked and disappointed look on Caleb's face as it dawns on him that his night is over as Loch pulls me to the truck. He lifts me up into the passenger seat and then goes around and gets in. He's slamming the doors so hard I think the whole thing will break but then once we're in he just sits there and stares at the wheel.

And then he starts to laugh. He drags his hands down his cheeks and collects himself and then he winks at me. That was exhausting.

Why did you do it? On his birthday, of all nights. What purpose does it serve? And why did you ruin my dress?

The purpose was obvious. and fuck the dress. You don't fucking need that dress. You don't need anything from him. Had I not done it you probably would have gone home with him tonight.

You don't know th-

Yes I do. And I told you it's not going to happen anymore. But it's easier to fucking stick it to him if he thinks it's your decision not to go, don't you think? Probably hurts twice as much! Maybe five times more.

So that was a routine.

Yes. A means to an end.

You're not drunk at all, are you?

Actually no. Everytime I came back with a drink it was tea. Jesus, Peanut. You're missing all your cues. Getting rusty. Maybe we should go back out for a few months, find a show before you lose all of your skills.

Maybe we should. He might kill you otherwise.

Nah. He's an old man. And I have fire on my side. He'll burn before he can touch me.

Better hope you're not rusty then.

That, Bridgie, is why I practice every. single. day.