Deep end doubt.

I had Father's day breakfast with Lochlan and Caleb by the pool. I wheeled the pressure washer out across the grass to the yard next door and PJ, Andrew and New-Jake were all recruited to wake up early on a Sunday and mostly keep an eye on us from afar.

Caleb laughed when he arrived and saw the machine, but only briefly. Then he shook Lochlan's hand and wished him a Happy Father's Day. Loch nodded curtly and said Same but his eyes were lit up like Christmas and I could tell he was having a hell of a time not gloating. 

How is your nose?

No longer bleeding, Loch told him as they set about unpacking the picnic breakfast I made. Your chin?

I iced it for an hour. Probably won't shave for the week to cover the bruise. 

Loch nods again and goes quiet. He doesn't want to be here. Ruth will sleep for four more hours so this has nothing to do with Father's Day but I need to be able to be around Caleb without flinching, without it being awkward. I've done this before. I've cut him off. It resulted in a weird sort of emptiness in one spot in my head but that was different because back then he didn't live on the same property.

But I think he'll be fine. I might be too.

It doesn't affect Ben either. I have compartmentalized him down to a fine science and have room for him. Lots of it, since he's big. But right now he lives in the teevee and I turn on the Ben-channel and he smiles and tells me I did the right thing and I nod and the tears roll but he can't see them and so we talk about new music and old friends and he always signs off with see you soon as if I like lies. He said For once you did what you should have always done, Bumblebee and I can't wait to get home to you and to Loch, as if nothing's going to go wrong with this grand plan of ours.

I'm not hungry, even as I unwrap the toast from the foil and put a piece on my plate beside a soft boiled egg and some cantaloupe. Lochlan pours tea from the thermos and I put the plate down and take the cup in both hands instead, while Caleb ignores the food as well, walking around the perimeter of the pool, admiring (or critiquing) the workmanship. It's a fairly expansive kidney shape, tiled in dark blue, built into the side of a gentle hill so there is a whole new garden extending around one curve and up toward Daniel's house. It looks like it's been here forever, or it will as soon as the tractor marks fade from the lawn. The fence is up and lockable and Caleb even had a slide put in at the deep end, which is too high and terrifies me but I will make myself use it until I'm not afraid anymore. He said he will probably use the pool early in the mornings and late at night, but we are all free and encouraged to use it often, whenever. It's heated and private and actually kind of nice. I still regard the whirlpool with suspicion. I think that might be nice in the winter.

Eat something, Peanut. Loch prods me with his elbow very gently and I turn to look at him with my eyes wide. 

You promised you wouldn't do that. 

Eat something...please?

Marginally better. Last time I checked you were not my father. 

Last time I checked I was pretty much covering all the parts in this show.

I suppose you want extra pay then. 

I don't want his money. 

If she wants to finance your life you should let her. It turns out she's smarter than you. Caleb is back. Like a cat, stalking along the quiet lapping water. This water is redundant. When I look at it I can see the ocean in my peripheral vision. The blues and greens clash. This is not salt. It's chlorine. It's extravagant and he is not welcome in any discussion I have with Lochlan that isn't his specific business. 

Oh but it is because he pointed out all the caveats where I still must funnel my financial plans through him and he has the power to veto or have mediated anything he doesn't like. It's designed to keep Lochlan out. It's designed to keep me in. Don't worry. There are more lawyers and I'm paying them overtime to look this over because I don't think he's telling the truth. He was smiling the entire time he talked and that's when I know that he lies. 

He is right, Bridget. You should eat. Your hands are shaking. Pleased with himself for noticing, for scoring a point in the Who Knows Bridget Best contest, he turns to walk off again. 

It's from bringing the hose. It's heavy. 

It's from fear, Neamhchiontach. You're flailing. You have no idea what you want. I can see it. He sees it and Ben hears it in your voice when you ask him to come home soon. Nothing will change. 

I have changed. 

You can't change. You have no resources to improve yourself, no spare strength to make a move, no willpower to see anything through. You'll end up keeping everyone on the shortest leash imaginable because you like it that way and because you can't change it. You can't handle any more regrets, rejection or renewal. You're stuck and your life is quicksand. You'll always be just out of reach, up to your waist but if you don't move much you won't sink further. That's how I sleep at night. THAT'S WHY I HAVEN'T KILLED HIM YET FOR TAKING YOU AWAY FROM ME. 

He turned and walked out of the pool area, letting the gates swing behind him as he made his way back to the boathouse, and I could see PJ standing by the wall, having heard the shouting, waiting to be needed, just in case. I wait for the cold empty spot in my head to take over but it doesn't. It doesn't clash like the water colors, it just blends right in until I can't define it anymore. 

Loch kisses the top of my head and wonders out loud if we should go back to sleeping with the kitchen knife like we did in the camper in the not-so-good areas. 

He's wrong about you though, Bridgie. Letting go of two hundred pounds of bloated excess is a hell of a big improvement. 

He's still here. What are you talking about? 

Yeah but if he can't touch you he may as well be on the moon. So I'd say you have a huge capacity for getting better. And you get braver every year that I've known you, contrary to what you think.

What if it were you on the receiving end of my rejection? Would you be so encouraging? 

I wouldn't be able to speak or even breathe for that matter, so no, if you want me to be honest. 

Szegény (right back to thirteen and eighteen).

Lochlan looked at me late last night as we sat alone out front, shellshocked and porch-drunk, his glassy eyes sober and frightened and he said, In case you wondered. It's not that I didn't want this, it's that I'm scared to death I'll just fuck it up like everyone else has. 

Everyone's afraid, Locket.

Are you? 

Terrified.

Of me? 

Of us. 'Us' was always so much bigger than everything else. Bigger than the rides. Bigger than that sky. 

Still is. 

I know it. 

Us is what's right. Us is what's supposed to be, Bridgie.

What if I kill you?

You can't. I remember holding you and your fears, back when you were little. Your fear was so big it almost suffocated me but I figured out how to talk you out of it and eventually I would get so tired. I'd be talking and talking and in my head I'd be praying. Please, please let her go to sleep. I'm so tired, Lord. Jesus, if you can hear me just let her sleep and after a while you would stop answering me and I would look down at your face and your eyes would be closed but your hands would be clenching the front of my shirt so tightly it was as if they were still awake and I knew you were where you were supposed to be. With me. That I couldn't die or leave because it was my job to look after you. I just did a shitty job of it when I was younger. If I could take back leaving you I would. 

So would I. 

It might have saved all this. You never would have ended up with any of them. But we can't take things back. Maybe they do happen for a reason.

What was the reason for all of this then? 

Maybe it was to teach you that out of all the men you've loved, I'm not really so bad. He laughs so hard he falls out of his chair to the porch floor and then laughs even harder.

You sure about that? I stand up and hold out my hand but when I try to pull him up he pulls me down with him and he kisses the top of my head and squeezes me really hard and asks me if I'm really ready to live in a camper again because once Caleb is through rage-quitting me we'll probably have five dollars left over.

Maybe two campers so we can have room for the kids and my easel. We can make one big articulating camper. 

Or I could renovate a school bus. 

Yeah you could do that. 

But would you live in it? 

In a heartbeat. 

I fired my sugar daddy. What did you all do today?

(Jesus Christ. Drama.)

Lochlan is stretched out in the sun, sipping a glass of orange juice, reading a book. I'm close by in the shade, curled up in a chair in shorts and a hoodie. My book is too far away, upstairs beside the bed. I'm thirsty and he won't share, everyone is out, including the kids who write exams this week and this is the most beautiful weather so far this year.

So what did you say? You actually fired him? 

No, once he explained all the paperwork and gave me the files I...decommissioned him very gently. I didn't stay after that. We didn't watch a movie. 

Decommissioned. Ha. This is so ludicrous. The life you have led. 

Indeed. 

Now I can be your sugar daddy. He rolls his eyes.

You mean I can be yours. But back in the day you were literally my sugar daddy and I have a few stubborn cavities and near-diabetes to show for it. 

You either have diabetes or you don't, Bridget. 

I have a lethal sweet tooth and I blame you. Never use food as a reward. 

I didn't. I used candy. Candy isn't food. 

It is to me. 

Well, like I said. You ain't right, He drawled. No accent. It was my turn to laugh. He's only marginally able to joke about any of this. It cuts so close. I turned over and smiled at him. Maybe we'll get somewhere someday, I'm thinking, when the side gate flies open and Caleb barges into what was a perfectly good morning. Loch gets up fast.

This is your fault, Caleb tells him.

Huh? I didn't know she was going to put you out to pasture. That's what you do when a horse gets too old to be of use though..

Caleb stops and nods and then throws one of the best punches I've ever seen from him, honestly. Friday morning now features a bloodfall over Lochlan's lower face. Epic nosebleed. Holy cow.

Lochlan fires back and connects with Caleb's jaw and grabs the front of his shirt on the way out of the strike, dragging Caleb forward into his knee before letting go. I slide in between them. Loch scoops me right out of the way as gently as he can and I'm left with no choice. No one's home. I didn't even think Caleb was home. I look for weapons, distractions. The orange juice is half empty but the pressure washer is right there. Two birds, one stone. I can get them separated and blast all of the blood off Lochlan in one go. I fire it up and Caleb does a double take. He yells Don't you dare, Bridget. I've got my blackberry on me. 

Don't really care. I squeeze the trigger and they both holler at once but back off each other so I let go.

Lochlan moves to come to me so I blast him again. In the face.

FUCK, BRIDGET! 

I think it hurt. I think his nose is broken. Now he's wet with a river of red right down his whole front. Caleb is checking his blackberry to see if it works. Fucking whatever so I blast him again too to see if he gets my point.

He rolls his eyes and frisbees his phone off into the grass. He turns to me and asks me nicely to put the sprayer down.

Only if you two are done hurting each other. I hate it. I stop talking so I don't cry.

What's going to happen when Ben comes back and finds out you didn't wait for him after all? 

This has nothing to do with Ben. It's between you and I. 

It's Pyro inserting himself where he doesn't belong and holding undue influence over y-

He didn't even know until this morning! 

Lochlan takes his shirt off and uses it to try and clean up his face. Yeah, fucktard.

Caleb moves to lunge at him and I blast him. Just a little.

BRIDGET. 

Hurt him again and I'll flatten you with this. It's...it's a really high PSI. 

What does that mean?

I can take the paint off the space shuttle. From here. 

Where is the shuttle?

I don't fucking know! 

He puts his hands up and backs down. I don't need him charming you into an unstable situation. That's all.

Unstable? What the fuck, you asshole! Loch is ready to go again. Shirt's on the ground, a red puddle of surprise.

You don't have her best interests at heart, Loch. You want to be sixteen forever. She needs more than-

Are you two finished? I pulse the sprayer just once and they both look at me.

If you want a further explanation then come see me later. I look at Caleb. I'm sorry I did it on the heels of a net worth inventory but I had to make sure. You always tell me to make sure. So I did. And it looks bad. I'll give some of the money back if you want but otherwise I need to do this. I can't keep you here as Cole forever. I'm not getting anywhere. I need to get somewhere. This isn't working. 

You were in it for the money?

I was in it for revenge and for other reasons but none of them were ever about money.

You loved me at some point. 

Still do. 

You're going to kill me with these candid thoughts, Neamhchiontach.

I wish I could sometimes.

Lochlan snorts and I turn the sprayer toward him but don't turn it on. He puts his hands up and turns and walks away. Caleb stays put.

Don't you give him everything, Bridget. He betrayed you the worst of anyone. 

He's paid dearly for it already, Diabhal.

Who gets to decide that?

I DO! I FUCKING DO AND NO ONE ELSE! 

Should I call Ben and get him home now before there's nothing left for him to come back to?

Please don't act as if you have his best interests at heart. He wanted me to do this a long time ago. But I don't listen. I take forever and make up my own mind instead.

I think it's called bonding.

(Sometimes you just have to say the right words to me and then my thoughts fall neatly into place where they are supposed to be, instead of the way they usually are, scattered haphazardly all over the floor of my mind.)

But you do trust me. You trust me to make sure we don't starve, you trust me to be there on the platform at the other end of the wire. You trust me enough to always ask me first if I can help you even when I'm the biggest asshole alive, pushing you off out of fear, taking you for granted when I should  be counting my lucky stars. You know I'll be there even if I say I won't be. I'm the constant. I'm the sun, for Gods sake. I'll be there. Every morning come hell or high water. Every night until my death. 

We got a huge umbrella for over the Adirondack chairs on the stone patio. This girl burns like fire so it became a necessity. I love to sit outside. I'll read/eat/sleep there whenever possible but I found myself heading for shade more often than not as of late. The grotto in front is very buggy and also devoid of men so patio it is. They tan. Even Loch eventually burnishes a bit to go with his golden red curls. Even Ruth eventually tans.

But me? Nope. I'm a galaxy of giant freckles floating in a pink sky. 

So with the new umbrella situated just-so I resume life in the backyard and soon enough the Devil appears to inspect the latest purchase. He approves but most likely only because I can be touched if I'm not sunburnt. Priorities.

He passes me a whiskey on rocks and sits in the chair beside me.

Much better. He says. 

And how, I nod. 

Come watch a movie tonight? I heard your nineties dinosaurfest is over finally. Lochlan and I finished watching the third film late last evening. 

What movie?

Whatever you like. 

Chose from my wishlist then. He smiles and runs the bottom of his glass across my propped-up toes. I think he could have a foot fetish if he were any less regimented but nope, he keeps his weaknesses to tying & crying (me not him).

Maybe we could have a swim.

Can we talk too? 

About?

Just where I stand with the various allotments and property. I guess I felt as if it was connected to me continuing to work for you and now that I don't have to do that anymore since you've officially-officially retired then I don't know what assets are mine exactly or if there are any, what I should do with them? 

I'd be happy to advise you. We'll go over everything before dinner. I told you what was yours already. It surprises me that you don't consider it to be so. 

I guess I get distracted. A refresher would be great. Should I plan to be there for a while? 

A nightcap or late dessert after the movie would be nice. I won't keep you til morning or anything like that. I don't want to awaken the beast but I do need some time with my favorite girl. It will be worth your while. 

How's that?

Curious little thing today, aren't you?

You retiring has me thinking about the future, that's all. 

His eyebrows go up. He's amused. I never mention the future. I'm usually too busy living in the past.

I got to leapfrog right over Monday. Yay!

Sorry I didn't post yesterday. Over the weekend we worked our asses off, then we went to see Jurassic World (so fun!! Go!) and it inspired Lochlan and I to watch the other three movies too.

We seriously only came up for air long enough for sex and more nachos.

Kidding. We just locked the door and never bothered pausing the movies even once.

Then we called PJ to bring refreshments. The man commands a high price when he's waiting on me. If I don't want anything he brings me everything. If I want something I have to bid on it. Those nachos cost me a new stereo for his jeep.

They were worth every penny. He even put green onions on them. Spoiled rotten, I am.

Loch is, PJ says with a wink. Someone has to treat him right. 

Oh my G-

WHATEVER.

Today is another work day. There's no time to be dramatic or write or do anything. It's all work. We've scrubbed the floors, vacuumed all the levels with the swanky new vaccuum, watered all the gardens because it feels like it might never ever rain again (AHAHAHAHA) and changed the beds, which means four epic loads of laundry and a lot of climbing around trying to tuck in fitted sheets and also it means hauling the night owls out of their beds which is a little funny.

Yes I could let them deal with their own beds but if I do that PJ would next change his sheets either if he planned to bring a date home or sometime in 2020, whichever comes first.

(I kid. He doesn't bring dates home anymore. Would you?)

Duncan would never change his sheets at all. Yuck.

On the upside? We spun the music wheel and are listening to the Bee Gees while we work. Which is some sort of audible torture for some of the boys but not for Lochlan and August. They're both singing loudly in falsetto. I laughed so hard I almost wet my pants.

It's been a really good weekend and beginning of the week actually. Kind of like old times, in a way.

Saturdays like no other.

He wrapped one arm around my neck right in the middle of dessert out in the sunny vineyard at the long table when half the boys were carrying dishes back to the house and the other half were engaged in great conversation away from their seats. He kissed my temple, telling me I had a reprieve, that I did well in his absence not jumping ship on our arrangement, not digging myself a deep hole of grief to go into and not shutting him out upon his return. He worries, I should note, about what he's going to come home to when he travels, which is why he prefers to have me come along and then he always knows what to expect always, that it's easier on him.

It's not easier on me, I tell him as he lets go, just as he sees Lochlan coming down across the lawn. I take the last bite of my cake and pick up my dishes. Caleb grabs my wrist and my teacup drops to the ground. He says that because he loves me so much he'll delay our date until midweek. That my reprieve earned by being unpredictable, somewhat stable is a one-off, unlike our occasional evenings.

Lochlan reaches me just as Caleb lets go and takes my dishes from me. Movie? 

Yeah. 

Let's go then. It's nice and cool inside. 

I say my goodnights and follow him between the rows, back to the house.

A Saturday like any other.

When I present this morning, the Devil thanks me for having his car detailed.

We did it. I didn't have it done.

You did it?

Yes. And Sam. Keith helped. 

Ahh. Very good. I appreciate that but you didn't have to. I have a service for that.

It was cheaper. 

I left you money. 

I spent it on ice cream and glitter. 

He smiles just a little and then asks if I had a restful week in his absence. My composure hit the floor. Not really. It's shaky. I'm going to cry. I don't want to cry.

What happened? The fights?

Fights. Yeah. 

He isn't mature enough to handle you. 

Because a girl who spends hundreds on dessert and craft supplies is such a fucking enigma. 

EXACTLY. 

What?

Most women are into trips, purses and new kitchens at this age. You want to blow bubbles and spin in circles until you throw up. That's a difficult and wonderful thing to process for any man.

He never had trouble before. 

He grew up. You did not. 

You just said he wasn't mature. 

Emotionally he isn't prepared to take on an extra human when he can't look after himself.

Nice. I'm supposed to listen to you tell me this? It's a conflict of interest. 

You're a child with an extensive vocabulary and a knack for breaking hearts-

Stop that. 

It's an intoxicating, deadly combina-

KNOCK IT OFF! 

Cue the child, right on time. 

Did you have a nice trip?

I did but I missed my family. 

Okay good. Here's your car key. Henry will be over later. See you later too maybe. 

Alright. Oh. Before you go. Here. He goes to the counter and shuffles through some papers and then comes back to me with a pewter envelope. And keep the car key. Just don't leave it where they can get to it.

I take the key and the envelope but I don't open it. I'm busy juggling composure and false bravado. Now he throws fear at me and I can barely hang on to it.

It's been a long week. I need to spend some time with you. 

It doesn't work like that. 

It works whatever way I say it works. 

Children don't take orders, they're exempt. 

Bring your glitter. I have some uses for it. 

I'm not coming. 

Yes. He smiles. You will. Besides, Pyro only seems to behave and treat you properly when you're in danger, so I'll just keep you there and it will be business as usual. 

When in doubt, feed the little beast.

He knocked on the door and I refused to say anything from within.

He knocked again.

Go away! 

Bridgie, I'm sorry. Could you come out? I'll buy you dinner. 

What is it?

If you could eat anything right now, what would you eat? 

A hot dog and a brownie! With some chocolate milk. 

Then that's what we'll get. 

Really?

Sure. 

I opened the door thirty years later and he was still there. Only I don't want a hot dog and a brownie anymore. I'd like to get some Vietnamese food and then maybe an ice cream cone with a walk down by the water.

Then that's what we'll do. 

Really?

Sure. 

"The herpes of the craft world", they call it.

While I slept fitfully last night in the windless ten-thousand degree heat, Sam was exacting his revenge. You would think his identity as a minister would mean he might have gone easy in matters of vengeance, but no, he did not.

All of my shoes? Full of glitter. But only the right one of each.

My purse? Full of glitter.

My favorite tea mug? Yup.

My shampoo contained a large amount of glitter.

My favorite lipstick was dipped in glitter.

The pockets of my hoodie were full of it.

Every chair in the house was coated in a fine layer. It was on the dog. It was on Dalton. It was in PJ's beard.

I finally had to get away from it. So I went down to the beach with Duncan.

And guess what I saw?

Yes. More glitter.

I almost cried. The vacuum cleaner I have isn't so great. Marginally better than the shop vac but not by much so I figured I would disentangle myself from the hoodie, borrow a pair of shoes from Ruth and drive to the store to buy a new vacuum cleaner. We came back up (I'm laugh-crying now) and I got organized and got into Caleb's car, figuring I was safe and didn't get any glitter in his precious R8.

Then I turned it on and twisted the air conditioner up high.

And glitter blew out the vents.