Batman asked for a breakfast meeting this morning, which I don't have time for. I have to bake and iron and prepare for house guests and get this wedding together and besides, I know what he's going to say. But after a couple of quiet empty threats and an offer of having some people come and help I finally went because I'm not going to turn down a big huge breakfast of fried carbohydrates ever in my life. Or good coffee. Or bacon, frankly. Also I love the little squares of grape jelly. They're ten times better than the whole jar, and I still don't know why.
I think it's from years of arriving at a Howard Johnsons motel and having breakfast when I was younger and knowing there would be a pool and a restaurant and a door with a lock on it and we were safe for a moment. Food always tastes better when you're safe.
But I don't think this place will have the squares. Nope. This is too fancy for foil-packets of jam.
He orders for us and then we sip our coffee and wait. This isn't a HoJos, that's for sure. Caviar on my Eggs Benny. Half the food for three times the price, Lochlan would say.
Caleb needs a time-out, Bridget. He's not reasonable.
He had almost all of Lent and look what that did. He was worse than ever.
Batman looks away, and then down, as he fucks with his fork and then his napkin, composing himself. They hate it when I can so casually reference this.
Ben wants to bite him back. I laugh sadly and Batman rolls his eyes.
Then he'll expect Ben to have the same punishment for the same crime, and that will leave us down a man.
Ben is his size though so it doesn't count.
It does now, after he hurt Ben, remember? How much damage are you going to let him continue to do, Bridget? How long are you going to let him off the hook?
What's your magic solution, then? He goes away and he always comes back worse.
What about a fine. A devastating financial hit. An expensive one. Pay to play. I hate that I just said that. But we both know his numbers and we know what he cares about. You and money. It's one or the other.
How much?
He tells me and my eyebrows go up and the server, who has just brought our plates, asks me if everything is alright with my order.
It is, thank you.
Batman repeats it once the server leaves.
That's a...big hit.
An expensive lesson.
What if he says no?
Then he leaves. And he never comes back.
He'll pay it.
I know he will.
Who to?
To me and then I'll hold it in your trust.
Then you have power over me.
You don't need the money but it's yours nonetheless. If you want Lochlan can act as trustee. I don't really care.
What if he does it again?
Then I will kick him back to hell. He won't be able to afford another mistake.
He'll tell you to stay out of it.
The days of discretion for him ended the last time he hurt you. If you're not going to care than I will be your proxy on this.
I care, I just know why and what set him off and how easy all of this is to prevent if I just let him-
Your husband would like a little peace of mind here too, Bridget.
Then he should have married someone else. Tears are flowing freely now and Batman reaches over with his napkin and dries them. More come and I'm sure the servers are lingering nearby wondering exactly how spoiled I am that I haven't touched my plate when it cost sixty-seven dollars and something and now I'm crying over it.
He doesn't want anyone else. He just wants you to be safe.
I'm not ten anymore.
You never got a chance to be a ten-year-old, Bridget, and monsters aren't real if you don't let them be.