Tight quarters today as Caleb attempts to conduct a catch-up workday which basically seems to involve me organizing his bookmarks, filing away his digital receipts and reconciling his bank statements. He has pulled the small parlour chair over right beside his big leather desk chair on wheels and since it's too heavy for me to move I was forced to crawl over the arm and into it while he went downstairs to get us fresh coffee, after discovering that mine was ice-cold and untouched this morning while I watched the rain blur the ocean view.
Everyone is still soundly asleep. Not all that surprising at seven on the second day after a two-day event like that one. Not hungover, just tired. They sometimes forget, I think, that they can spend time together or talk when it's not a special occasion and that always surprises me, when they act like they've hardly seen each other in years. Other times the bond is so close that one will rush out the door to find another because they had a feeling they were needed and it turns out to be true. In any case, boys should start trickling in shortly, as their bellies growl for breakfast, and by then I should be pretty much finished, as I like to work efficiently and get finished and Caleb likes to fuck around and flirt.
How are you? He sips his coffee, ignoring the fact that I have eight tabs and four folders open and I've resorted to sticky notes to keep track of this when it's right in front of me.
Thanks for the coffee. I'm swell. I flash him the biggest fake smile I can muster and take a sip. Oh. So good. So hot. A far cry from the one I made myself two hours ago.
Neamhchiontach. Talk to me. He rubs my back and I twist away, sitting up straighter on the edge of the chair, trying to focus on the words on the screen when they're starting to swim. Don't drag me down into those depths now, I can find my way there with no help at all.
Let's get this done. I have plans.
What are your plans?
Watching Demon Slayer with Henry and working on Christmas gifts.
Maybe I can join you.
Sure. Bring your knitting needles. We go hard.
I would love to learn to knit.
Get PJ to teach you. I taught him years ago.
I'd rather you teach me.
I'm a terrible teacher because I'm still learning. He ended up doing online tutorials.
Did you do the tutorials?
No I just rough it.
He laughs. Well, maybe I'll drop in for a bit anyway. What time are you finished here?
Noon, I think. Maybe one at the latest. Does that work for you?
Any time you are here works for me.
Let's make omelettes for lunch first, I tell him abruptly and his face suddenly morphs into a joyful, pleased expression. With Ben and Lochlan too. I don't tell him I can see the man in a pale blue button down and jeans (or the shape of him anyway) out by the fence. Let's have a really good lunch first.