(One of those magical days.)
The two jellyfish found each other (and made a bloom!) in spite of the fact that they have no brains and painted a mural on the tiny wooden shed this morning, in the rain with a haphazard tarp rigged up over the roof and attached to some garden stakes. It was like a yard fort only it was necessary instead of purely recreational and yet we got some neat effects when the paint began to run. It's like a surrealist masterpiece in some places, as weaker colors bleed out over strong ones and the first crisp lines soften and blur.
Sam put his fall construction on hold but he still put on his surrender plaid and came and helped Loch add more wood to the pile near the house from the pile behind the garage and then he asked if he could steal me away for the remainder of the afternoon and he did. We painted and went for coffee (too much coffee, here I go again but the headaches, you see) and then we sacked out in the theater and watched a little television and then we napped, my head jammed against his bony shoulder cap, his arm flung wide across my back. I missed dinner. Which was called off anyway on account of a lack of participants and the fact that Caleb took Henry and Ruth out.
When I did wake up on my own Loch was back and the plaid jellyfish was telling him about our antics putting up the tarp. Loch said he'll help us finish if the weather clears up over the weekend and then he stole me back, not content to leave me there in Sam's arms, but loathe to take me out of a place that was some of the best comfort I've had all week.
But it was a means to an end. The rain was heavier than earlier in the day and he took me out front, across the yard and into the tiny wood to the grotto where he had candles blazing and dinner for us laid out on the tiny writing table. It doesn't rain in there, the tree cover is so thick above. There was some cheese melted on bread, wine, olives, sliced tomatoes, warm chicken pasta salad and there was chocolate cake.
And there was music. He slow-danced with me as a prelude to eating because it was one of those nights where you forget you're hungry because the company is better than the event. Because his green eyes had gold flickering in them from the light and yet he is the constant, a beacon that brings me safely home when I drift so far away I feel like I'll never get back. He's the lighthouse, Ben is the storm. Why I try to force them into roles they aren't suited for I'll never understand but I try to do it less.
We did eat, eventually. All of it. Until we were too stuffed to dance anymore and had to go inside and fall asleep with all the windows open and the sound of rain pouring down outside. Only I've had coffee and so I can't sleep yet. Maybe later. I'm going to go back and watch him do it though. He makes it look so easy.