I will just google it from here in the dark.

For those rooting for him, Caleb didn't get the job. He did that thing where he took over and we didn't go to Starbucks, we went to some place that I was terribly underdressed for and he did all the ordering and then started laying on the scariness and was completely himself instead of the goofy, playful millionaire showing up at the kitchen door that he had started out as. So all of the tension crept back in around us like shadows and I didn't eat much of what he ordered and honestly for coffee listed for fourteen dollars on the menu it can't be better than anything we can make at home and really can we leave now? I want to get caught up on the chores I started this morning and left to wait.

You're being petty, Neamhchiontach. This coffee is imported.

Coffee isn't fourteen dollars. 

This kind is. 

You're like those people that get waylaid by a designer label. It may not be superior just because it costs more. 

Sometimes you get exactly what you pay for. He's not talking about coffee anymore and I slip into my armor and unsheath every weapon I've got.

But he is unmoved. You can put your brass knuckles away, Bridget. As hard as you try to hold on to your trailer park beginnings just remember who brought you to this point. 

Jacob. But he died doing it. Oh. Caleb's face suddenly loses that hard edge. Oh, I'm so done. I won on the pity card and I don't want to. I want to win because I'm stronger than anybody else in my little, insular world.

He gets up and picks up his coat. It worked, maybe? Maybe I did win with my words, even though he rarely listens. Maybe my brass knuckles scared him off. Maybe my armor did. Maybe it's legendary while his remains epic. Maybe it's heroic and his is stock. I don't know. I just know that a fourteen dollar cup of coffee isn't worth fourteen dollars and I know that I don't need a liaison to explain life to me anymore.

Boss lady.

A knock on the side door startles me. Better not be Ransom. Better still be a side door there when I get to the bottom of the stairs. I never know what to expect. I'm still threatening to move out until the renos are finished.

I open the door and Caleb is standing there holding a folder and smiling. He sticks his hand out and says Good afternoon.

I take his hand and pump it twice. What the fuck are we doing? Good afternoon.

My name is Caleb C____, I'm here to apply for the liaison position.

The wh- Oh, ahahahahahaha. Nice. Come in.

I'm serious.

There's no actual positi-

We could learn together because honestly I'm only really clear on medium brew and Americanos.

What are those again?

Espresso mixed with hot water.

Jesus, WHY?

Indeed. Let's do it. We'll be experts by Christmas.

Or we could remain here in denial where it's nice and eventually someone will take pity on us and make some coffee or an espresso or one of those...things. My brain is full.

Sleep on it but I think one of those Crystal Balls would be good.

You want an ice-cold diluted un-coffee full of sweet grossness on a rainy day?

No, I want a coffee date with my favorite person.

Oh, when you put it like that, let me get my bag.

My treat.

Thank you. Be right back.

If I'm paying why do you need your bag?

Clothing for girls doesn't have pockets.

Really?

Really.

Wow. That's as big a mystery as the Starbucks menu.

I KNOW RIGHT?

Fuck crystal ball, they have SMOKED BUTTERSCOTCH something-or-other, I don't know. (Now hiring for a Starbucks Liaison. Interested?)

Should we go get some of those Crystal Ball frappuccinos tomorrow?

Tell me again what a frappuccino is first and then I'll answer that. 

From Starbucks. 

Yes, but what's IN it? 

Whipped cream and sprinkles. 

No the drink part, not the decorations.

Uh..

Wow. And you call me sheltered. I'll look it up. 

You are sheltered. You don't even know what a frappuccino is. Or anything from Starbucks. In this day and age that's weapons-grade sheltered. 

I know things too, you know. But important things, not a drink menu.

Tell me one thing that you know that's important that I don't know. 

Charlie Sexton in on Instagram now! 

Who is that? 

Exactly my point.

(One of my first crushes as a teenage girl. Beats So Lonely was my rebel ANTHEM. If you want to follow him, his account is @sextonplace. And if you think combing through his followers will lead you to my account, I don't have one. I just go to Instagram online and type in names in the search bar lot. It's like a soothing thing. Or maybe a boredom thing. Don't ask. Apparently I should have been using my time more wisely and studying menus! Argh!)

(Once more with feeling, Bee: A Frappuccino is a coffee or cream base, blended with ice and other ingredients and topped with whipped cream. This is not a yucky latte, which is a big old glass of milk with a shot of espresso in it. Grossssssssss. I will try to remember.)

Equal lengths dark and light.

It went down like a really great gameplay by the world's best coach (not Travis Green, clearly), as I was distracted on my way back to Batman's by Lochlan, who had something to show me (the ocean, Peanut, look how beautiful! When do you want to set up the new camper? We can have a cookout, maybe a sleepout too if you like) and Jay was intercepted, paperwork in hand by Schuyler, who 'has a guy' to do taxes which turned out to be Caleb, and by default someone at an unnamed standard tax preparation front, since Jay means absolutely nothing to Caleb on a personal level and has virtually uncomplicated taxes so he was sent off to the shopping centre and reminded to keep up on the very basics of being an adult or there will be consequences.

When pressed, however, Caleb refused to tell me what the actual consequences are, and for the briefest second my curiosity ate my common sense, swallowing it whole while I considered telling Jay not to file his taxes so we could find out.

But I would never do that and so I'll have to guess at what would happen around here should we all fail to be adults.

On second thought, I'm sure I already know.

And on the upside, Schuyler released Lochlan from the latest round of endless work (HAD HIM HERE ALL DAY) and maybe they're better at Bridget-management, honestly, those who can be parental and micromanage and order and direct. Maybe patient isn't the way to go around here. Honestly whenever they instructed me to do something, I did it because they were older and smarter and responsible for me. So things like Get your jacket, Eat your vegetables, Go home now before it gets dark and Don't let go of my hand are second nature to them and never questioned by me as I was raised by these surrogate-parent wolves.

It works. I listen. They order and then teach. They usurp each other and also police one another.

But they always do their taxes.

(Because I make them.)

Turkeys.

Batman's there looking beautiful in brown shoes, grey pants and a medium brown shirt. He looks rich, is what he looks. You don't need to see labels to know everything is expensive, you can just tell by the glow of the leather, the drape of the cloth, the stitching on the button holes. He wears an Apple watch but no other jewelry but he's neither had a haircut nor shaved in a week or two which gives him a slightly old-fashioned look. His eyes are so patient. He's always had all the time in the world for me and is one of the few people who doesn't try to micromanage my movements or order me around. He doesn't strongarm my life and instead offers and waits. Some things I take, most things I leave.

This morning he offered coffee and croissants. I know where he gets his croissants from. They are delivered to the house on Mondays and Thursdays and they're worth the cost so I accepted.

In the kitchen?

Yes, of course. I hear laughter in his voice. I'll be waiting. 

Give me ten minutes. I hang up and scramble to get ready. Rose gold hoops. Skinny jeans. T-shirt that says IRISH across the front, emblazoned in green on white. I throw on Ruth's Adidas superstars and I look and feel about fifteen years old, tops save for the dark circles under my eyes and the tattoos.

At the last minute I grab my sweater and pull it around me for warmth.

When I arrive the coffee is just ready and Batman looks like he's about to run out the door anyway. He only works from home in between projects and never seems to actually relax.

You look..uh, he catches himself, young today. Like this, I mean. 

I don't have to work today. 

Actually I need you to. 

With no notice?

This is your notice. Could you help Jacob with his taxes this afternoon? He's missed the deadline to have them sent to the accountant. 

The accountant doesn't have a deadline for this. 

For our terms, he does. Please be a help and do this for me. It is within the scope of your work here. 

Right. Batman hasn't actually called me to work for months. I though I was home free.

I like your shoes. 

Thank you. They're Fluevog. 

I noticed. Look, I'm not really prepared for staying to do tax work today-

I can send him over whenever. He needs a keeper, Bridget. He has this household in perfect order while his own is a mess. 

What do you mean? 

You'll see. 

A kind smile all but dismisses me so I take the last sip of my coffee, eat the last bite of my croissant and reach across the counter to pick up the box of croissants that is still half full.

You don't need these. They're so bad for you. He grins as I wink at him, nodding his permission for me to steal his expensive pastries. The very least he can do if he's going to foist Jay on me this afternoon is to load me up with butter and fat first.

But seriously. I'm okay.

My car came out of storage today. To celebrate I came out to go for the first drive of the season, and glitter blew out the vents and...got in my eyes. The boys didn't know that I use cosmetic and sometimes even food-grade glitter to protect people from exactly that but there you have it. No permanent damage, life goes on, I won't accept any apologies for something they didn't know about in the first place and also I don't have to make dinner now.

It was fucking funny though. 

Yesssssss! Maple Leafs shut out the Habs 4-0! Keep it going boys! Yea!

Monsters have feelings too. I keep forgetting this part.

Caleb's having an ego day, a day where he licks his perceived fatal wounds at the decided lack of mention of him in the last post, good or bad.

It wasn't a 'Bridget's Deepest and Darkest Secrets' list, it was just a stupid flighty collection of random things about me. People like that, or so I thought and now I wake up to find that everyone is disappointed and bored. Remind me not to waste my time again. 

The only person truly happy with that list today is PJ, I think. 

Yeah, probably. I laugh.

What's amusing? 

You are. What did you want me to say about you? 

Oh, I don't know, Bridget. Maybe something about my skill or my steadfastness or my consistency in your life. Maybe something about how hard I worked to see that you and by default all of our friends have everything they'll ever need. Instead I get to read an exhaustive list of things everyone already knows.

Do your own writing then. Grandstand. Or better yet, take the advice I give to everyone who complains about my content: DON'T READ. 

Or you could make another list of all the things you love about each one of us. 

I don't see that happening. Besides, if someone has a particular feature or trait I adore I tell them to their face. I'm not shy about crowing my appreciation for my friends. 

You've never said things to me. 

You're different. My voice drops to a bare whisper. You're my monster. 

His whole face softens with grief as he nods. This is what we have to fix. I don't care what else happens. I'm not going to spend my entire life in that role for you. 

100 things (you probably didn't know).

Just because PJ still dares me to try this stuff years later and with a cash offer if I can pull it off, why wouldn't I? Besides, he'll never know what's true or false (hint: it's all true).

(I started this post in 2005 and some of it might seem off because I've moved a bit, changed a bit. You know.)

1. I hate crepes. They seem like thin soggy pancakes to me. Pancake-fails. So people dress them up and call it 'dessert'. No thank you.
2. I had the lyrics to Still Remains by Stone Temple Pilots tattooed in the center of a large cameo on my back. I had them removed (mostly) a few years back The cameo is all but empty now and I don't know what to do there. I have my wings above it now and I just don't feel like getting any more tattoos. 
3. I am addicted to affection, lip gloss and security. Blame Lochlan for all of it.
4. I'm allergic to food coloring and the sun, sunscreen, nail polish, fabric softener, shellfish, hair color and everything from LUSH, suddenly. Boo. Also cats I don't know well and my own sweat. Go figure.
5. I don't like shrimp, or fish with bones. Not big on clams but I do love biting the legs off tiny little deep fried octopi. Oysters aren't great either.
6. I grow sunflowers but the sun is a rarity and it's tough.
7. I actually don't like it here very much. Sure it's pretty. Well, some of it is. 
8. The things I miss the most about home (Nova Scotia) are the people, the donairs and oceans without tankers.
9. I still consider myself the world's most fragile mermaid. Not a great swimmer. 
10. I love to paint skulls. LOVE IT. Have dozens of them up now.
11. One of my monikers in the freakshow was Firebaby. There. Google that. No, wait, don't. Actually it's fine. Thank God for life before Internet.
12. I was a vegetarian for over twenty years but it's only been the past few that I can actually take a bite of a chicken wing without putting it on a plate and pulling the bones out first. 
13. I love turnip. Mashed turnip with real butter and salt.
14. I think I'm crazy but certain things keep me grounded enough to deal with life without flying right off or curling up like a Swedish fish: writing, running, sex, sleep and bourbon. 
15. I'm afraid of bicycles, blooming teas, undomesticated electricity and revolving doors. Escalators, elevators and morgues.
16. Sometimes I'm afraid of Christian but only because it's sort of like being accepted by the cool kid and then wondering when they're going to drop you. I don't get it, he doesn't either. 
17. I steal Daniel's shirts and then lie and blame it on Schuyler/John/Andrew, insisting they must be in the wash/wrong closet when they're in my bed. I like to sleep in them. They're warm and not as big as the others. 
18. I've grown so comfortable with black bears that when I see one I take out my phone and try and capture it's soul with the camera. Then I just shoo it away. 
19. I hate shoes. Jake, you were right.
20. I'm a raging minimalist, except for handbags and bracelets.
21. I don't actually wear a lot of jewelry considering how much I have.
22. I forgot to empty the steam cleaner last month and OH MY FUCK. GROSS.
23. I have to have knee surgery. 
24. I had adenoid surgery once.
25. Caleb has offered me plastic surgery. Whatever I want. I know what he would choose to have done on me but it varies wildly with what I would chose. 
26. I have never and would never actually have plastic surgery.
27. Batman's really freaking famous. People scream out loud when they recognize him. 
28. Ben is not so famous unless he's in his stage clothes. Surprise. You wouldn't actually recognize him unless you're a superfan or a stalker. No, he's not in Gwar.
29. Loch actually had groupies at one point. They were the other people who worked the show though. Everyone loves him.
30. We once stole the whole cash box and ran. 
31. We once slept outside on a hillside in Romania because we couldn't afford a room. With goats.
32. I used to fear being killed by gypsies. Or goats.
33. I sleep with my doors locked now but my windows open.
34. I'm astounded that you can't buy actual Marshmallow Fluff countrywide.
35. I can't each as much candy as I used to be able to because I get canker sores in my mouth when I do.
36. I slept with PJ. A few times now. He's quite a powerhouse of a guy.
37. I refused drugs for the first ten hours of labor with Ruth. On Labour Day. Thirty-seven hours from water breaking to the emergency c-section. Fun times. A week in the NICU.
38. I used to figure skate competitively in regional competitions. 
39. Batman had a painting of me hanging in his public office. He would tell people it's his late wife. 
40. Once I got so scared of the dark that I just closed my eyes and cried until Lochlan came back. I was eleven. Then I did it again when I was thirty-eight.
41. I'm a damned good aerialist.
42. I'm a better freak. 
43. My hearing aids are amazing but I'm still overwhelmed by things like clocks and wind in the trees.
44.  I think every 'caught on tape' is a staged prank but believe every conspiracy theory around. 
45. I love scarves. Big pashminas. They make me happy. Over the years they have doubled as blankets, tablecloths, bags, legwarmers and truck bed liners. 
46. I put honey on my toast. Raised by hobbyist beekeepers.
47. I still can't drink from a can and never finish a can of pop. The metal makes my teeth hurt. 
48. I sneezed in the middle of a video shoot once for a band during A Very Big Scene which involved traffic and angel wings and pyrotechnics. That sneeze cost twelve thousand dollars. They had to start over.
49. I can't sit in the back seat of a moving vehicle or I throw up within eight minutes flat.
50. My makeup routine has been condensed to mascara and lipgloss and nothing else. Fuck it. I'm done with most of that crap. Strangely enough my Sephora VIP Rouge membership is good through like 2028 thanks to the boys with long hair and all the spendy hair products and man perfumes I buy them. 
51. I spend the odd weekend with Schuyler and Daniel. We don't get out of bed. I get hooked on things like Spanish General Hospital reruns and chai tea. 
52. I eat ringalos by loading them on my fingers until I look like the Thing from Fantastic Four and then I gnaw them off my knuckles one by one. 
53. I eat onion rings the same way. It's messier though. 
54. I have no patience for shitty music production. 
55. I have a tiny Pandora bracelet addiction that took over from the Cartier bracelet one. I've been collecting charms for almost four years. I have dozens.
56.  Every professional photograph of me ever produced (except for the ones Cole took) has been missing the checkmark scar under my nose that some kind editor has airbrushed out. I send them back to have it returned to me. 
57. I'm slow to warm up. Case in point, I resisted Cormac McCarthy's writings for the first several decades of my life and now I can't get enough. 
58. Batman was the first sugar daddy and the most consistent. A long time ago he hired Cole to do some work for him and asked for me as well. It was a hell of a lot of money involved. We kept it pretty quiet. 
59. My favorite season would be thought to be summer, with its promise of no school, lax rules and warm weather but instead it's fall because everyone always disappeared from the beach and it became all mine again. 
60. I use three emojis virtually all of the time. The monkeys. The see no evil, speak no evil and hear no evil ones on the apple keyboard. 
61. I used to wear earplugs to listen to Ben's former band. Not to protect what's left of my hearing but because otherwise I would visibly flinch. They're very loud.
62. When I get up I turn on the stove first to boil water for coffee. Then I let the dog out. 
63. If a horror movie takes place in the woods then I want to see it.
64.  I will watch any horror movie though. Even bad ones.
65. My fetishes included being held down/up and hockey players in their arrival suits.
66. When I go into a really fancy restaurant I still wonder if I'm supposed to work to impress the staff and fear they might reject me as a customer because it's for adults only. 
67. Morphine has no effect on me whatsoever. Ditto valium. Disco drugs work well though.
68. I'm a narcoleptic. Hi!
69. If I'm awake after ten at night it's usually a special occasion.
70. I don't like mint anything. Even toothpaste.
71. I really really tremendously dislike the song Fairytale of New York. Someone told me if you're of Irish descent and you love Christmas it's a given. Well it's not.
72. Don't ask me about hard drugs.
73. If you say 'tats' or 'ink' with regards to tattoos I'll probably roll my eyes and correct you.
74. I let my children swear. Always have. I know. Horrible mother, right?
75. I still can't pronounce 'library' without pausing to think it through. My mouth says liberry and then just keeps on running.
76. I'm allergic to Costco. No, really, I'm sure I am. I hate it. I hate crowds. I hate bulk purchasing. I hate the very idea of the place and I had a membership once. I hated it.
77.  I have a perpetual headache and a lovely frown line that runs directly between my eyebrows because when I'm not grinning or crying I frown like the dickens. 
78. I can do the entire Thriller dance. Yes, still.
79. I would have been a Juggalette, but I'm not and I wasn't and camping at music festivals isn't my thing.
80. I can eat about eighteen thousand grapes in one sitting. Ditto McDonalds french fries. Ditto licorice. Ditto Pixy Stix. Scallops. Glasses of bourbon. I'm like a bird with rice at a wedding. You never know, I might explode.
81. I wish I had blue eyes. Always have. As much as I love my greens, I wanted blue. The grass is always greener, isn't it? Or in this case, bluer. 
82. I love the smell of hospitals, bandaids, iodine, gasoline, grass, peat and yeast. I don't know if there's a word for that. Gross, maybe?
83. I will never visit the Canadian territories thanks to 30 Days of Night. I think it was filmed in Winnipeg though. I'll check and get back to you.
84. Mosh pits make me jealous. They look like SO MUCH FUN but then violence and shoving.
85. I want to crowd surf but then I'll probably get molested and raped. What if I wore an inflatable sumo-suit? That's my answer for everything now. 
86. I'm suddenly very concerned about what tapioca pearls are made of because no one has given me a straight answer so I figure it's cadmium and/or lead.
87. My favorite bowling ball is a big-ass size '12er with three holes. I can barely lift it but it does a very good job and rolls very slowly without a twist or a slice. My bowling score remains under forty. No worries, it's even lower if I use a ball for someone my size.
88. I read four books a year. I love books. I love reading. It's fantastic but I just have to touch the cover and I fall asleep. I think books are like some sort of Pavlov's Dog experiment for me. Ditto buying movie tickets now. I pay twelve bucks for a nap.
89. August had me hooked on Kombucha. It's 16 grams of sugar and it has a host or a mother or something floating at the bottom. I didn't understand but it's like a spicy vitamin water only fancier and way more expensive.
90. If I could only have one food on a desert island it would be Keema Naan. At least this week it would. Next week it will probably been something else. (Because bird.) (POOF.)
91.  I want to spray-paint a freight train.
92. I used to be a Suicide Girl. Now I hate at least eighty percent of my tattoos.
93. Glitter is a huge part of my life. It's a decoration, a beauty routine, a sport, a prank and a weapon all rolled into one. Usually it's food-grade around here, just for safety's sake.
94. I would be a greater minimalist, miser, squeezer of coins if only they would let me. 
95. I don't like owning new cars. It's a worry with the digs and the lemons and the risk. It's much easier to me to drive an ancient yet mechanically sound piece of crap and park next to a Ferrari.
96. I burn incense constantly. Mostly nag champa or patchouli but also some christmas campfire blend I got at the Vancouver German Christmas market that everyone loves and I didn't stock up on this year so I hope I can make it last. 
97. I'm lactose intolerant but mildly so one milk product a day is fine but two will destroy me. So if I have cheese toast I can't have yogurt or ice cream later. Not a big deal. I don't run screaming from dairy but I'm amazed at what havoc it wreaks.
98. I'm double-jointed, I'm a witch. I'm a Taurus. I'm a natural redhead.
99. I grieve for him every single day, you know.
100. I finished it. PJ owes me five thousand dollars now. Oh yeah. I love to make it rain. It's been engineered once and it's about to happen again. I danced for money once. Alright it was a few times. 

Have a great day. This may not be up for long. Too much information. Not useable, just personal, I mean.

Cave periculum, quod non ultra Martias Idus proferretur.

I’m not gonna let you become a martyr
I’m not gonna let you pickup the gun
I’m gonna make this a whole lot harder
Won’t make it easy for you to run

Don’t go and blow it all, it’s bad enough baby
I don’t wanna hear you saying it’s not you, it’s me
If there’s blood on my hands, you should let me know
If you’re done with a dance, you should let me go
Oh, baby you said it all,
There’s nothing you can say to break my fall

The disasters are here, sewn into the seams of the blanket I pull over me to keep them close, sewn with double stitching, thread made of tragedy and heartbreak, material consisting of one hundred percent contempt as I turn away from you, away from the light, and suffocate myself when all I had to do was listen harder. I can't hear you. The noise inside my skull is always too loud. I always want to be somewhere else. I always want to be someone else. Just let me sleep.

Please.

No. Get up, Peanut. It's Thursday. 

What's today again? 

What do you want it to be? 

I flip the blanket right off the bed, letting contempt smother grief instead. I want it to be a happy day. 

And what would make you happy? 

Eggs BENEDICT! 

What else? 

An extra cup of coffee after the first one. Like one to wake me up and then one to savour. 

What else?

I don't want to see the Devil today. 

Easy. Okay. Let's go find that coffee. What about for the afternoon?

Let's lament the Canucks not making it into the playoffs. JUST KIDDING. We knew that would happen.

We didn't know you would be so gleeful about it. 

It's just one more chance for the Leafs, if you ask me. 

The Leafs aren't going to make it eith-

DON'T RUIN MY DAY.