Early Jesus Beach this morning in the rain. It was perfect. Ice-cold, profound and the last service before Advent begins. My skin hissed in the rain from God's disapproval, though his son forgives me for whatever crimes I committed this week alone. Confession is a mental conversation you can't hide from it in this religion. I don't know if that's good or bad, and so I hold my head higher and wait for Sam's assurance that I will still have grace, even with wet eyelashes and the smell of salt stinging my nose.
Sam preaches directly to me today. I do not know if it's for my benefit or for his. I never know if his words are for me, about me or because of me but he moves to a whole other plane of existence once he has a crowd so it becomes an unanswerable question.
It reminds me of someone so dearly my nose stops stinging and my eyes pick up the torch and run with it. It's a sensual relay with no clear finish line and Sam is one of the last holdouts in whatever race right through redemption and back to sin takes place. I am auditioning for the Devil every moment of every day and I stand here trying to be so good all the while watching Sam's mouth as he speaks.
But it's just a crush.
I clutch Lochlan's hand, who doesn't seem to mind one bit anymore as long as it isn't Caleb. I don't know when that shift began. Sam was off limits to all and suddenly he's only off limits to one but I can't pull the trigger on that because I need Sam and I need him clear-headed and not addled by thoughts of what we did (that we haven't done). I need him to talk me down when I throw plates or eat ashes or go to the Devil anyway. I need a voice of dissent when I fight with Lochlan, to remind me that I'm awful, impossible and difficult so that I am aware of what I am. But in Sam's gentle way, that reminds me I'm still deeply loved.
Besides, I'm a little perpetually worn out and my schedule is full. August seems random and rare but he really isn't any more, just to enjoy life while its mine to enjoy. Loch told me not to apologize for it so I said I wouldn't and he laughed. He followed in Ben's footsteps to a point here, allowing things that should never see the light of day in a generous attempt to engineer my peace of mind and it works and it's not backfiring in that I don't want to be with Caleb constantly or even much past collecting him for a group dinner or seeing if he needs anything before I make the long arduous drive to run errands. (We try to stack as much as we can, it's a long drive to actual civilization.).
When we get home from JB I change into warm leggings and a big skull sweater and my docs and head across the driveway anyway. Caleb opted to sleep in and didn't show for church and I like to check on him. When I let myself in to the boathouse he is sitting reading the paper on his iPad, a cup of coffee in his hand and an empty plate beside it. He's in flannel pajama bottoms, bare feet and a dark blue t-shirt.
Just the girl I wanted to see.
Is that a fact?
It is, indeed. I wanted to know if you were free this afternoon for an ice cream drive.
(He knows. He KNOWS how to get me.)
I'll double-check with Loch but I am free as far as I know, until five anyway.
Wonderful. I'll collect you after lunch. Dress warm. And with that I am dismissed as he goes back to reading. He looks up once more as it dawns on me and smiles gently and I take the cue and make my exit.
