Purple laver + grey cloud.

Lochlan said I smelled like a perpetual blend of smoked sea salt and bulletproof coffee with an undercurrent of lilacs. He said I did good, but he's happy I'm home and we slept hard last night on the giant hockey-arena sized bed, looped in against Ben, a rescue ship on a stormy sea if ever there was one, which is somehow surprising in light of Ben's long history as the sweetest, meanest dry drunk you ever met. He's mellowed beyond the pale in the past few years though. Probably because of the stress of being with me. Or maybe just because they're all hitting that fifth decade one by one and it's like a switch being flicked sometimes and then other times you can see the indignant teenage stubbornness flare up and flame out in a whoosh. It's still there. It's still them.

I know why I smelled strange, I spent hours on the beach yesterday. It reeked of seaweed and petrichor and I love it so I stayed. They had to pull me away physically (it happens sometimes) and then as soon as I could get away again I went back and finally Lochlan came back down with one of the big lanterns because it was almost dinner time and getting dark.

Want me to bring the sleeping bags? He laughed.

Can we??? Thought the rest of my dreams were going to come true for a minute there.

No, Peanut. It's going to drop to the minuses tonight. You thought you were cold last night, you'd never make it. 

I'm never cold with Lochlan. Ever. He is fire incarnate.

I smile at him and somehow he knows what I'm thinking.

Come on peanut. Let's go up. 

After dinner Ben appeared and didn't go back downstairs and at ten-thirty sharp we went up to bed. I kept looking at him, a stranger who rarely shows his face before the waning hours, a night owl in a house full of reluctant morning people. An enigma.

Thought you might need me, he shrugged. Also since you weren't here last night. Lochlan and I have decided we're in love. He smiles dramatically.

I look at Lochlan and he nods. We'll see if we still have room for you. 

I stand there waiting until they're both in and Ben turns the light out and I stand there in the dark. What if they're serious? What if I lost my place?

Then Ben turns the light back on and says, Get in here, Bee. You know what Loch and I have is superficial. It's all based on looks. 

What about me? Isn't that based on looks too?

There's not enough of you to look at. Too small! And he laughs and turns off the light again once I've climbed over Lochlan to take my place as monkey in the middle. Funny how we increased the size of the bed so much and I still have no room.

Your hair smells weird. 

It's the beach. 

Nothing ever changes, Peanut.

Good.

Woke up in Sweden. Send the plane.

(It actually stands for this: Please Try Something Different.)

When I opened my eyes from the latest coma (we don't call it sleep when it's drugs any more than you call it rainshine when it's sun), there are the hemlocks peeking down at me through rainwashed skylights. There is dark grey everything and there is my unintentional but somewhat mostly welcome (except when he isn't) new/old boyfriend (who may or may not be the devil) with breakfast in bed for me.

He told me I slept adorably. I was cold so I put on my Hello Kitty pajamas and curled right in against him before realizing that I probably played right into his deeply buried fetishes without even trying.

Not sure if you ever noticed his dresscode rules? His preferences for me being so specific? I have to dress up. Very high heels. Very sophisticated clothing. He likes my hair above my shoulders (it's. almost. touching. them. finally.) and prefers our time together to be mostly formal activities or very very extreme adult ones.

Why?

Because child-Bridget excites the fuck of him and I don't want to awaken that monster. I think he has a hard enough time with it as it is and so he has all these rules to keep himself in check and protect me too.

God forbid I show up in jeans and a t-shirt with a long braid and Oreo crumbs in my teeth.

God help me if I wake up in pink pajamas.

God save the Queen? Fuck that. Save the princess instead. For once.

But he seems like he's in control and he has a tray with coffee and lemon bread and blueberries so we make short work of it and then I point out I have to get going.

Thank you, Caleb says to me.

I told you I can stay a couple times a month if-

Not for that. For being comfortable enough to be yourself (I ain't the girl in the stilettos. I ain't anything, actually.). I'm working on things. (Oh, he knows exactly what is wrong with him.)

I nod. Suddenly I feel like it might be difficult to leave.

Go before I keep you, he whispers.

And I'm gone.

Dinner and a kick-ass show.

(For all of the alarmist emailers: the pills can reduce anxiety and regulate sleep. If I can do those two things in my life I'm fucking gold. For the rest of you? You're swell. Thank you for coming.)

In at two last night, naked and makeup-free and fed (not in that order, mind you) and in bed by three. Far too late with a busy week ahead but also a whole lot of rare fun. We had an oddly smooth evening, with a whole host of luck (last parking spot in our usual lot, last table in our favorite pub, a perfect view in the ballroom (for the Ascot Royals and Big Wreck!), too many drinks though it didn't affect a thing, no lineups, no sound issues, no fights. No weirdos. No glitches. Just fun. And my eyeliner stayed sharp all night (thank you to Kat Von D). My lipstick did not (F-you, Dior). Not in the least but I threw it in at the last minute and had I been smart I would have used one of my twelve hour workhorse reds (like duh, Kat Von D liquid or my almost-gone Lorac but no. So yeah. Not so polished so I just pretended I did a nude lip on purpose. Honestly? No one fucking cares except everyone loves my blue-red matte lips when I bother so there's that. 

Boys are weird. They're like 'you don't need makeup' and then when I wear some they're all 'hey girl'. 

LOL

I'm so tired. 

Tonight I'm going to bed at eight.

Maybe seven. 

Meh.

Fell asleep in the hot tub last night. I was reading and I felt my eyes get heavy and I put my head down on my hand against the side and just closed my eyes for a minute and Jacob swam up into my face and screamed at me when I went under. I surfaced with a shout of my own and looked around in the dark.

Okay, so I am crazy.

Also sometimes the narcolepsy gets bad. It seems more related to mental than physical things so when I feel stressed I check out faster and more frequently.

The doctor said it's probably a sign for me to slow down. I told him if I slow down any more I'll run at bullet time and look like a flipbook from afar.

He prescribed Ativans, Ambiens and something else that starts with A that I already forgot. Great. Zombie spring. I get to dole out my own comas instead of Lochlan holding all the cards, or in this case, all the pills.

But I can't take anything right now. I'm making lasagna and salad for dinner and then I'm supposed to go to a thing that STARTS at ten-thirty pm. Masochism at it's finest. Hope my eyeliner and my bra hold up. I hate both, truly I do.

Edit: Alprazolam! This one sounds like fun.

Two.

Lunch was leftover macaroni and cheese with cut-up hotdogs and forbidden glasses of pop. We ate outside in the sun (heat lamp on above us) and smiled at each other. Lochlan kept smiling into the sky and then he'd smile back at me and I burst out laughing finally for his funny faces.

What?

This. This is nice.

Yup. It is.

To see her was to love her. Or something.

We had a full house last night for Burns Night. Didn't have haggis but we did have bagpipes (I love Ben. Have I mentioned this?) and a few of us (not naming any names *cough* BRIDGET *cough*) had far too much Scotch whisky and should have gone to bed long before it was unreasonable.

Batman told me in confidence that he doesn't know me. All he knows is that he made a grab for a brass ring in the shape of a girl and what he wound up with exceeded his wildest dreams and also disappointed him beyond belief.

I don't know about you but yes, after hearing that I started drinking from two glasses at once. It's always lovely to here that you've disappointed someone. You know, beyond their wildest dreams. What do you even say to that? Thank you? 

You drink.

He clarified that he thought we would have a relationship past what we have now. Instead he is shelter in a storm. By choice. He keeps close in case I need him. Maybe he's hoping he'll be the rebound guy someday but outward he admits only to feeling gratified that I trust him and welcomes my attention when he gets it.

It was formal and I shut him up by pouring him another.

Eventually he left and Caleb said Godspeed as he went out the door.

Well, there's a word. 

What do you mean, Neamhchiontach?

Sam is smiling. Oh noes, he says. Here she goes.

What? My brain is tilting. I wonder what speed God travels at. Fast-forward? Supersonic? Or maybe it's slow-motion. God-speed. More righteous than regular speed! Oh! I want to learn this! Then I can whip around at Godspeed and make everyone happy faster. Except Batman. I think he resents the hell out of me. 

Bridget, you're losing it. 

Never found it, actually. Is there an opposite to Godspeed? Like Devilslow? Well, that makes perfect sense come to think of it-

You're cut off and you're going to bed. Lochlan's almost as drunk as I am. Think I'm bad? Wait until HE starts talking. Say goodnight, Bridget. 

Goodnight, Bridget. And Godspeed! 

Shouting into the void.

I spent all morning signing things. Listening to things. Watching things transpire. My baby lawyerlings were well-organized and knew to bring me coffee with a quarter teaspoon of plain white sugar and a drop of cream every couple of hours. They knew to take all my weird-coloured pens away from me before we started and they physically winced when they heard of the interest lost should we cash out early*.

*(Three times I opted not to cash out early because honestly it isn't worth the loss and I can wait. The paperwork is drawn and dated, and it'll be ready to invoke the day certain things come due.)

(I can overrule Batman.)

They brought me a sandwich for an early lunch break. It was not a Monte Cristo but it was good anyway. There was a pickle with it. More coffee and as I watch Caleb sign things and talk to his brokerage and banking advisors it occurs to me that he's aged more in the past five months (since the wedding) then the past thirty years and I make a mental note to ask him to come to dinner.

After lunch I sign some more things. Then finally we're finished. They have a list for me. Today's transfers and the list of those to come, plus several ventures that haven't come to fruition yet but will soon and those are mine too. Caleb also got a raft of statements after the fact and in the car, I asked if I could see them.

Why, Bridget? He hands it all over, somewhat wearily. It isn't defeat, maybe it's just resignation in his manner that's making him seem far older than his years today.

I want to make sure you kept your full share so I don't wind up having to be your sugar momma. 

He's amused. Speaking of which, there are precious few ways in which I'll be able to fulfill that role after today. 

You'll have to pay me in affection, then. 

Something tells me that's worth more to you than everything we put down on paper today.

It is. You should know this by now, Diabhal.

The smile did not leave his face the whole way home. Maybe he (after all this) puts his values on the same way I do each morning, one leg at a time.

Crimson thieves, wasted knights.

When I went to bed last night in tears the kingdom was in flames, angry words preceding fists, endless wrong swallowing brief happiness whole.

When I woke up, my tears had dried on my cheeks and the world was new. Lochlan slept with his hands around my head. Ben had one hand on Lochlan's head and his other arm under and around me, holding my back tight against his chest. There was one extra arm was flung over Lochlan from his other side, Sam's caramel curls mixed with Loch's red, barely visible above the quilts.

My tiny kingdom, surrounded by water on three sides, with the most beautiful army you ever saw was still standing. They put out the fires, smoothed over the harsh words and made good on the promises they levied as proof of their worthiness, words that hold more value than strength, here. I capture it all with my hands and place it into my heart, warming it.

The army rests today.

The war is over.

For now. 

Ben lifts his head and asks if I'm awake. I nod and he squeezes me into his heart. Hearts within hearts. This is perfect.

Hungry? 

I don't want to leave this. 

Me neither. Go back to sleep then.

When I wake up next they're gone and it's only my blonde head that remains. The kingdom is cold and barren like a bad dream and I get up and cross to the window to count trucks.

They're all still here.

The sea still surround us.

We are still hearts within hearts.

I wasn't dreaming.

CFO vs. CEO.

(Nice to know he has my back. I suppose he's already had my front. Except this time he wants to make sure nobody gets fucked over. Where's the fun in that?)

There's something inside you that isn't right
There's something that haunts your dreams at night
There's something that you have lost
And you're bringing it down
You're bringing it down
On top of us

Batman was in the kitchen when I came back from seeing the kids off to school. I could feel something just emanating from him but I didn't know what it was.

Why did Caleb ask about payment for university, Bridge? Where's the money he gave you?

(It's tension.) Offshore, I guess? Maybe overseas? 

He reached out and grabbed me by the arm and said we needed to pay a little visit. I cried out and PJ got up and Batman whirled around and told him to sit the fuck down and out I was marched, across the slippery driveway half off my feet, up the steps and into Caleb's kitchen.

Where's her money, and why doesn't she have control of it?

Caleb looks at me and Batman shouts at him not to look at me. And to answer him. Now, please.

Caleb says it's invested. That since I don't need it for day to day expenses he may as well make it work for me. That after already transferring several accounts the paperwork was monumental so as investments come due Caleb is changing them over.

You need to let her choose a proxy.

She knows I'll look after it better than anyone. I worked for this. She's comfortable with me. You should all take your cues-

She has GODDAMN STOCKHOLM SYNDROME. She only thinks she loves you because you fucked with her until you broke something. I want everything signed over to her by the end of the week. You're retired now, right? Something to keep you busy. 

I think I'll leave it up to Bridget to deci-

She can't make these decisions. I just told you. I will take control of it alongside Lochlan and PJ until she needs or wants it. Does Lochlan have his funds?

He does. She's going to lose a lot of interest if I pull it now-

Then make up the difference. This isn't her fault, it's yours. 

Busy/Not busy.

Distracting. Sam paired his new ray of colors belt buckle with a grass green knit tie, which made him look like an adorable cartoon character, the businessman in a Scooby Doo show or something like that.

I went to church this morning (inside because rain again but at least it's almost warm) with Caleb and Christian and didn't need a hymnal (sometimes the hymns are really old and I know all the words), accompanied by my raucous headache and jittery hands from mainlining three more cups of coffee before we left to try and shake it, giving up and downing a handful of Tylenols instead.

Caleb drove, Christian followed in his own car because we had plans to go out for lunch after. At the last minute I invited Chris to join us but he was headed home to sleep off the God, as he put it and had some work to do that didn't want to see him out half the afternoon. He rarely leaves the house and works all the time it seems. I'm not sure if that's good or bad but outwardly he seems content and well-adjusted. He's never asked for much and he's very set in his way so I leave it at that. After Jacob flew Christian turned very slightly inward, noticeable enough but he never wants to talk about it. He and Jake were the Adrenaline twins with their rock climbing adventures and he no longer does that, doesn't snowboard, doesn't run unless I invite him along and maybe I just worry too much but I worry about the stark introversion of the entire Collective without end, most times.

I would say it isn't normal but then again nothing about any of us is, and that's why we're all together.

Our favorite lunch place was packed and so we found a different place but it wasn't private enough to talk much past pleasantries. Caleb asked about Ruth's university submissions and our plans to pay for it (Ben has asked to do that and has been squirrelling away money for years for the children, even long before we were a thing, which God bless him for that because Cole didn't have a dime) and how she's dealing with the pressure so we talked about that, mostly. He knows of Henry's plans, they talk constantly but Ruth is incredibly loyal to her father and so busy with her friends she doesn't make the rounds to talk to all the boys (save for PJ and Dalton -her favorites) and is a flash in the pan most days. I was too at that age (almost eighteen). Sometimes the boys would grab me out of thin air as I rushed past and asked me who I was again. It would make me laugh but it also made me sad, and I remind them often that once she gets settled in her future she'll be back with more time to spend. I think most of the time every last one of them is a proud father in some capacity and I love them for it.

Caleb kept his boundaries and his promises too and we were full and home by the appointed hour, and now I need a nap because this headache persists. I have a volunteer cuddler for it too, since Lochlan is still in bed sleeping. Perfect.