I'm playing 9 Crimes on the panio this morning. Singing both parts. August comes in and sits with me on the piano bench. He doesn't know the song. How can you not know the song? But he knows the piano after watching me play the same part over and over again. He takes over on the keys and I wish for my violin but it's not on this floor. Maybe another time. The tag is sticking out on the neck at the back of his henley and I absently sabotage my perfect morning with the ridiculous point that Jacob had the same shirt. Dark grey. Five small buttons on the front. Long sleeves and a marled texture that made it appear cashmere from a distance, though it was brushed cotton.
Thanks, brain. Thanks for that. Truly.
August turns. I didn't realize I had stopped singing.
I don't ask for much, Bridget.
I shake my head in agreement. No, he certainly doesn't.
Please don't talk about what happens between us. Don't lump me in. Don't call me out. Don't put a target on head. It's between you and I. They know damn well I wouldn't hurt you so don't list my name when you speak of reasons to continue your war. I'll be in your army but I don't want to be singled out. I'm begging you.
Did someone come to you?
Of course. It was an avalanche and I had no idea what was going on.
I'm sorry.
I understand you were trying to prove a point. I get it. I just don't want the politics.
It's inevitable, August.
It's making me think twice, Bridget. Honestly, I'm well past twice and am reconsidering everything.
What's keeping you here then? I close the lid over the keys and get up to leave. He grabs my hand. I wrench it back. Go if you're unhappy. (I call his bluff. He's not leaving.) Sorry I used you as an example but in case you forget they know exactly what it's like with you because they've seen you in action.
May as well point out I'm not the one who brings others to my door. The politics is all this is at this point.
***
Henry's done and done. Marks are rolling in already, though he wrote exams this morning. We held the ceremonial burning of the schoolwork and tallied up the marks, as the children get a pre-determined amount of cold hard cash for every A, B and C they pull off, A is worth the most, naturally. His marks are great, far better than mine were, anyhow at the same age. Almost as good as Ruth's though Henry took all physics and engineering, drafting and computers and math classes. Ruth took art, english, french and student assistance, so they are as different as night and day.
I'm just stupidly proud. I never have to send him up the hill ever again. His college program is mostly going to be online, amazingly enough, and now he needs a job for the summer and beyond, until his program finishes. I had a little birdie tell me Schuyler has an offer for him from someone he knows. I'm hoping it works out and comes to fruition but if not there will be something else.
Sigh. While I cried all through this month at the thought of Henry being done now I just feel relief. It's over. It's finished! They're both done. They're good humans, wonderful fledgling adults and far far better than I, which is all I ever wanted and everything I probably didn't deserve.
Thanks, brain. Thanks for that. Truly.
August turns. I didn't realize I had stopped singing.
I don't ask for much, Bridget.
I shake my head in agreement. No, he certainly doesn't.
Please don't talk about what happens between us. Don't lump me in. Don't call me out. Don't put a target on head. It's between you and I. They know damn well I wouldn't hurt you so don't list my name when you speak of reasons to continue your war. I'll be in your army but I don't want to be singled out. I'm begging you.
Did someone come to you?
Of course. It was an avalanche and I had no idea what was going on.
I'm sorry.
I understand you were trying to prove a point. I get it. I just don't want the politics.
It's inevitable, August.
It's making me think twice, Bridget. Honestly, I'm well past twice and am reconsidering everything.
What's keeping you here then? I close the lid over the keys and get up to leave. He grabs my hand. I wrench it back. Go if you're unhappy. (I call his bluff. He's not leaving.) Sorry I used you as an example but in case you forget they know exactly what it's like with you because they've seen you in action.
May as well point out I'm not the one who brings others to my door. The politics is all this is at this point.
***
Henry's done and done. Marks are rolling in already, though he wrote exams this morning. We held the ceremonial burning of the schoolwork and tallied up the marks, as the children get a pre-determined amount of cold hard cash for every A, B and C they pull off, A is worth the most, naturally. His marks are great, far better than mine were, anyhow at the same age. Almost as good as Ruth's though Henry took all physics and engineering, drafting and computers and math classes. Ruth took art, english, french and student assistance, so they are as different as night and day.
I'm just stupidly proud. I never have to send him up the hill ever again. His college program is mostly going to be online, amazingly enough, and now he needs a job for the summer and beyond, until his program finishes. I had a little birdie tell me Schuyler has an offer for him from someone he knows. I'm hoping it works out and comes to fruition but if not there will be something else.
Sigh. While I cried all through this month at the thought of Henry being done now I just feel relief. It's over. It's finished! They're both done. They're good humans, wonderful fledgling adults and far far better than I, which is all I ever wanted and everything I probably didn't deserve.