I have to start from scratch. Probably locally. I'll have to call around and he can figure it out if he wants to go around and get his things, for when I went to pull the trigger the shipping was only FedEx and it was $85 Canadian and that's freaking bullshit for what I ordered, which amounted to half a shoebox sizewise and would have cost me $30 to ship with tracking and insurance. And I emailed and they can't do any other shipping methods so oh well.
It's fine. I don't care if he gets his pen, he has others and he has a whole pack of field notes in the drawer but he likes the Yamamoto ones so much better. Stuff it, I tell him. Use what you have!
I'll do it myself. Is the cart still there.
No. I emptied it in protest.
Cale sighs for a long time and then doesn't say anymore and I go back to going through receipts. Silence reigns for the better part of the afternoon and I finally stand up to leave and he startles so hard I am shaken.
Sorry, was daydreaming, I guess.
You know what they say about disassociati-
Neamhchiontach, don't. I just haven't slept.
Ooh, come join my club. We meet every day behind the treehouse. Though you'll have to learn the secret handshake and we have badges to pin on your shirt and-
He pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand. There's a fix for this. Stay tonight.
What's in it for me?
He stares at me. It was a joke and he took it as a challenge. Anything, everything. Name it.
I want things to cost less and get here faster.
I know you're minding not being able to shop properly.
It's tactile-
I know, Bridget. And no one can help that right now. So what can we do to help that?
I have no idea.
I do. How about a sleeping pill for two and we tuck in at eight and watch shows until we can't keep our eyes open?
Each other's or our own?
He was out like a lightbulb at ten and I read long into the night, travelling through brief sleepiness into wakefulness, then homesickness, followed by the inevitable strange contentment. I finally turned the light off in the single-digit morning hours and got about three hours of rest, his arms a vise around my back, breathing so soundly I knew he was really out and not just hoping I would think he was asleep so I would fall asleep too (both he and Lochlan do that independently) and when I woke up again I untangled myself from him and he woke up.
What time is it?
Five.
You going home?
Yes.
Dammit.
Sleep.
Kay. Go straight up.
I will.
And I did as promised. Lochlan was still asleep, spooning against Ben, and I ducked into the shower and slept with my face against the wall for another fifteen minutes, dreaming of stationery before getting my morning sea legs and rinsing myself clean. Fresh and blowdried and perfumed, I come out and they are both awake.
Sleep?
Yeah, I lie. Caleb's really tired so we watched some dumb crime show and he was out almost instantly.
Lochlan nods. I do a few twirls on purpose as I put on my underthings, just so he can be sure I am fine. No bites. No scratches. No mental distress. I'm good. Just unsettled, as always.
Come back for a snooze and we'll get up later?
I'm almost dressed. Come with me, let's have a picnic.
It's still pouring, Bridge.
We can take umbrellas to the gazebo.
What if we had breakfast in bed?
Okay.
Seriously?
Who's cooking?
I will. Take off your stuff and crawl in. I'll be back in twenty minutes.
Loch jumps up, pulling on pajama pants and a green t-shirt. I get a hard kiss on the forehead that almost knocks me over and he is gone, down to find the coffee and the eggs, not nearly as tired as he seemed a minute ago. I think the rain is heavy. I think it weighs us down.
I tell this to Ben and he nods. I think you're right.
(I ended up making breakfast and we ate in by the stove Lochlan cut his finger not insignificantly and so Ben nursed him through getting sufficient bandaids and antibiotic ointment while I made the eggs. He's okay though. It doesn't require stitches but I was able to convince him to use one of the butterfly bandages I keep on hand just to keep everything together while it heals.)