Rustic rainy.

Is it ever fall today. Our leaf-raking efforts have all been for naught, as the wind and rain turned every last green leaf red or vibrant yellow and there's very few left on their branches this morning. Trying to love it. Drinking french vanilla coffee mixed with regular black, having French-toasted Russian rye bread for breakfast. I have to iron Henry's halloween costume components and make a few lunches for tomorrow and then rest up because we're headed downtown tonight for the Light The Torch/Avatar/Trivium show. I'm excited but a bit trepidatious at the same time because I have to work early tomorrow morning but at the same time if you told me we were staying home I might be disappointed. Since the bulk of us are only in it for Avatar, we may leave a bit early. We shall see.

The last load of laundry is in the dryer and Sam is walking around nursing his hoarse voice with tea as he and I remain sick but almost-functional, but he can't orate sufficiently to conduct a church service and I can't go more than an hour or so without a coughing fit and so we stay home.

Caleb and Lochlan are talking about ordering some quiet leaf blowers for the yard. I don't know if they exist. Loud roaring things are banned because ironically they produce a high-pitched wine that bother my ears so, and yet the work in this yard with only rakes is backbreaking. But they're getting along and that's more important than leaf-removal methods so we shall see. I think Caleb is beginning to figure out that it's not me, it's him. Maybe he just had to be closer to realize.

Clocks go back next weekend. 

Give me strength. 

That's why I'm here, he says.

Sleepover.

Last night a bunch of us went out and got a stack of pizzas and garlic bread and then came home and rented The First Purge from Apple TV. It was so fun to just stretch out on Benjamin who was stretched out on the big sectional couch with everyone and just zone out on what turned out to be a very good movie. The dialogue was snappy, the masks always amazing and the violence quick and...well, violent.

The soundtrack was catchy as hell, too and I'm not really a hip-hop person, so there you have it.

When it was done I was still awake, even as Ben was warm and cozy and I was lying just right so I couldn't feel any pain and I wasn't coughing (which sometimes just never stops as this illness drags on and on) and I wanted to watch another horror movie because it's Halloween weekend and I used to love this holiday. I don't decorate anymore, I don't give out candy, I don't even buy candy, truth be told and so this is the way I celebrate now. A quiet evening with my boys and some good movies.

But it was so late and Lochlan was worn out and I wanted him to get some rest along with us and so we excused ourselves from the evening and came upstairs and were asleep in seconds. Maybe less than that.

When we woke up this morning, I had to laugh. All the movie boys were in our room sleeping. Four extras on the bed, around the three of us, two on the couch, one on the floor. All fully clothed. Did I mention I love my army? They've got me safe from my nightmares, asleep and awake.

I wonder if I can make them watch Sabrina tonight?!

That's what this is: A very long book entitled 'The Grief That Never Leaves'. I'll be the first to tell you that no, sometimes you don't get over it.

The second and last session was yesterday, which if you're a longtime reader you understand that yesterday also marked exactly eleven years since Jacob left. There was a lot of support going in to this plan but it seemed as if the Devil has set me up, as all of the concessions, all of the changes were being requested of me instead of the other way around and I...

Well, yeah, no.

I didn't figure it out for so long it's just about criminal but during the set up and information sessions I was politely asked if I would give up my romantic entanglements with August in order to work from a healthier place. Apparently they wanted to gloss over Caleb's monstrosities and head straight for whatever's supposedly wrong with me that totally isn't his fault and somehow should be blamed squarely on the ghosts. It is Halloween, after all.

Yeah. No. Absolutely not. And I laughed, so inappropriately.

Then I briefly flickered my gaze to Caleb's face just in time to see his expression fall from a smug high to profound disappointment. That was when I knew he set me up and I then picked up my handbag and my kleenex box and I thanked the counselors for their time and I told the boys I'd see them at home.

Which was a little dumb in hindsight as we drove there in two vehicles but I needed to make a coolly controlled exit before I lost my shit. All I wanted was some professionals to look Caleb in the eye and say Stop being a monster or don't push her so much. Don't demand things of her. Don't be the same way you've always been and if she started to lose her courage let go of her for a little while. 

That's what my dreams are made of. My reality doesn't keep up and so it became a quick exercise in detailing Bridget's Flaws.

Well, guess what? I don't have any.

I mean I do. I still sleep with August because I need him. Sorry. Take that away and I can't function at all because even a little bit of almost-Jake is far better than none.

I need affection like water. Maybe Lochlan looks the other way. Maybe he's stronger, hell, I know they all are but I wanted something different out of this fall. I wanted this one time to be a little easier and the distraction of finally moving past the past would have worked but Caleb had no intentions of trying to make this better. None at all. They're not even angry at Caleb. They're jaded and not surprised as he is predictable, heavyhanded and refuses to take responsibility.

So now the struggle resumes and the hard time begins now. It may get worse, and bear with me as you do if it does. It may get easier. Who knows? Lochlan's being wonderful. So is Ben, PJ, Duncan. Sam. Batman. Joel, if you can believe it. Dalton. Gage. John. Schuy. You wonder why I reward them so lavishly with my time, my attention and sometimes my very flesh? Well that's why.

Which holds more weight, Bridget? Death or madness? 

They weigh the same. 

What makes you say that? 

I'm holding them both behind my back and I've checked.

Hi-burn-ate.

Lochlan rolled over onto his back this morning and covered his eyes with one hand.

Headache? I ask. I lurched awake when the cold rushed in to wrap around me, from where his warm skin had been before. Such a good sleep with him wrapped around me. Window open so that the air is cold and we cocoon as deep as we can under the quilts, listening to the rain.

No, just tired. 

Didn't you sleep? I am disappointed at the thought of him being restless all night.

A little. Anyway. Gotta get moving.  As long as you got some sleep I'm fine.

Today is counselling day two. I don't have to work and so we go in early, emerging early in order to put all of our skills to use. In order to have the day to think over things we've said, elephants we've addressed and plans we've put into place.

The earrings will be going with me so that for once Caleb can hear from someone else why you can't smooth over massive rifts with money. That would be too easy and like I've said before, I signed up for the hard-way method in life. Sam says the rewards will be greater this way.

***

Last night while cleaning up from supper PJ remarked that it is stupidly dark for six in the afternoon.

Here comes winter, I frown at him. We both hate the time change, hate the long slow march toward spring, hate the dark, hate the cold, hate that we hate those things and then hate each other for enabling, for giving it a voice, for acknowledging the wait. Or the weight, if you will.

Honestly eight of these weeks and the days will begin to get longer again, Dalton says, unhelpfully after overhearing our grousing. Roll with it. Pretend it's not happening, he suggests.

Bah. It's too late for that, I tell him. Wake me up when the sun goes down at nine pm again. 

Sorry, I was busy yesterday (not dead).

My opinion will not be lenient
My opinion, it's real convenient
Our words are loud, but now I'm talking action
We don't get enough love?
Well, they get a fraction
They say, "How could he go if he's got everything?"
I'll mourn for a kid, but won't cry for a king

Okay these have to go back. They're pretty but a waitress wearing eleven-thousand-dollar diamond earrings would raise a few red flags, don't you think?

It's not as if you're a normal person anyway, Caleb offers helpfully. This is a reward. It's how he does things. We successfully navigated one single whole session. No one threw any chairs (or any fists). Bridget didn't cry (she laughed at the absurdity instead) and everyone agreed to come back in three days to do it all again. It's like AA but instead of alcohol we're all addicted to the patterns of the past. I'm hoping that's changeable, like wallpaper, but these earrings, and Caleb's ignorant, magnanimous and cavalier attitude predicting our eventually successes lead me to believe it's not.

Here we go.

Church was fun this morning. Such a nice day that Sam made an eleventh hour change and posted a note on the door saying to meet him on the beach and everyone straggled in by nine so he was off and running. I think I got a sunburn. I got tired, that's for sure, and I coughed a lot. I leaned against Lochlan and I closed my eyes and listened to the surf and let the sun warm the top of my head and I can only hope eventually it all soaks in and I can shake this cold.

Because I still have it, whatever it is. The antibiotics aren't working, which means the fever was rogue, and it's a virus.

Or I need stronger antibiotics. If it's still this bad by Tuesday afternoon I'll request that the doctor come back. Otherwise I'm going to head to work in this sorry shape tomorrow and run myself ragged and try not to cough on people and hope my nose stops running. Hope my energy keeps going. Hope I can get enough rest to mitigate the effects of these awful infections. I'm sure they're brought on by stress and extended by strife. I'm sure that I'm dying. I'm sure you'll get better, says Ben, and while Sam gave a very timely lecture on faith and love and support in times of family crisis, I quietly, selfishly prayed to physically make it to one hundred percent health, just once in my life. Strangely I didn't pray for peace of mind or peace among brothers or peace in my heart even.

A week will change everything though, because we all know what's coming.

Meet it head-on, Peanut, and show it who's boss, Lochlan says.

What a great idea.

Throw you all over for Michael Myers in a hot second.

(This is not about the week past, nor is it about the week upcoming. This is purgatory, right in the middle. We're making plans though. We're all sticking together and to that end we must figure out how to live with our terrible flawed selves instead of painting everything in shades of black and white. The white is blinding, and the black, well, we just can't see a thing.)

But in the meantime, my favorite person in the world (besides Lochlan, Ruth and Henry, I mean) kidnapped me and led me by the hand to his truck.

Where we going? I ask sweetly and Ben smiles.

You'll like this, I promise. 

He found an empty theatre playing a lunchtime show of Halloween and got a huge bag pf popcorn and M&Ms and we sat dead-centre and I only screamed out loud once but boy that was stressful and wow am I so happy that I got to see it on the first weekend it was released, as I am a huge fan of the franchise (maybe even the bad ones) and I was waiting for what seemed like forever.

It was worth it.

I'm still gritting my teeth from the tension but it was worth it. I think I loved the long pauses as they introspectively played their predictable and then completely unpredictable but predictable roles.

I won't spoil it for you.

I try to never do that.

(I did not love Doctor Eyeliner but you'll see what I mean when you see it. He was there to jam a point down our throats. I get it. We get it. Still so good.)

Ordinary average Thursday cliches.

I'm not sure who moved faster last night, in hindsight, as Caleb's voice cut the magic hour right in two but all I knew was the light was fading so when we dumped out of the hammock, Lochlan already on his feet, I ran straight inside. I didn't want to be in the woods, for it's always better to confront the monsters you know, instead of the monsters you don't.

Except I didn't confront, I hid. Lochlan had to go it alone, though I heard nothing so I'm hoping they haven't killed each other.

Then I hear Caleb. He flew for ten hours to get home early. He cancelled all of his potentially lucrative meetings and he recognized Bridget's descent into laying blame and casting at shadows and he showed up ready to be There For Her.

From what I heard, Lochlan absolutely set him on his fucking ear when he found out Caleb was mad, as if there's any rights there at all. 

He follows my steps right to the end, where I am tucked down between the end of the counter and the wall inside the butler's pantry, eyes shut tight, hands over my mouth. If I could have made myself smaller I would have.

Neamhchiontach. He reaches out a hand and strokes my hair and I let loose of my face and scream right into his.

Shhhhhhhh. He sits down on the floor, pulling me out of the corner and into his lap, into his arms. Safety in danger. Death in life. Everything in nothing. And he rocks. And he rocks. And the tears well up and stream down his face and he loses his words for a moment.

Like a child, I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

I would take it back if I could, he whispers. Tell me what to do. 

You need to leave. 

I don't have any place else to go, Bridget. You are my home. 

I can't be. This isn't working. 

It's just the time of year, the rest of the time you're okay with this, we do well toget-

Please. 

You'll feel differently in a couple of weeks. When you need me and I'm right here. 

At least I made up with Lochlan.

But the post. Well, it stays.

It stays.

IT STAYS, Caleb, and I don't care anymore.

For all those who think I'm so fucked up, rest assured. It's not me who's fucked up. It's them.

There's a subreddit called AITA (Am I the Asshole?) But then again, there's also one called BreadStapledToTrees.

I tried to call Emmett this morning to thank him for the flowers that arrived shortly after his visit on Monday with a lovely Get Well Soon! X, Emmett sentiment but his number wasn't in my phone suddenly. The flowers were gone too, not surprisingly, though I still have to track down the vessel they were in, it's my grandmother's vase. I asked Caleb if he had Emmett's number still on the phone and he said, Oh, trust me, I've got his number and in my feverish broken-voiced state I failed to grasp his meaning and instead implored him to just give it to me already. I could call the firm and deal with Ransom but I don't want to, frankly and am a little angry that I can't use my manners in spite of my poor behavior to show I'm not the trailer trash Caleb seems to think I am.

Or maybe I am, as I threw Emmett a bone and he seems hungrier than most, and this is how I end up with things like Collectives and all-male friends with benefits.

I think I did it because he reminded me of Ben. I say it out loud, forgetting I'm tethered this morning. To Ben, believe it or not and I tend to forget the details because he tends to forget to come up for air.

I'm right here. Ben laughs and then frowns. Lochlan wanted to send him a message. 

That said what, exactly? Stay away from my polyamorous nightmare of a wife? 

Yes, but not with words. 

Geez, I'm missing all the inneundos here, save for the dangerous ones. My ears are blocked along with my noise and my voice a hilarious raspy screech.

Do you have Emmett's number so I can at least say thank you? 

Bridget, Caleb sent him a Cease All Contact letter, so really it's not a good idea to poke the sleeping elephant here. 

Overkill! Christ, Ben!

A necessary evil to keep you sa-

Safe? I bray in laughter. Jesus, my voice is making me sound unqualified. We should let him in to keep me safe, you mean. From all of you. 

You're supposed to use the tools you've been given to keep yourself from getting out of line. 

I am. You're here, aren't you? I throw it back, suddenly able to get a purchase on my words. I am the asshole. Confirmed.

You can take it out on me if you want. That's why I'm here. 

Right because Lochlan wants nothing to do with me. 

This was his idea. He knows how you get. Especially when you two are fighting, and the very last thing he wants is for you to step outside of the Collective ever again. 

What if I want something new? Something different? 

Then go the fuck next door. I don't know but Emmett won't be back so don't push it. And Caleb's on his way home and he's just as angry as the rest of us and Lochlan can't even look at you right now so exactly what are you posturing for? Everything you need is right here but you keep running away from it like you're on fire. What gives? I thought things were getting better. 

Wow. Can't believe he pulled that one out. Has he met me? Hell, has anyone met me? I was raised by a wolf and his friends, and then abused from the age of ten years old by the Devil, who now expects me to be in a relationship with him which makes me feel worthy, honored and loved instead of horrified because my brain is fucked up from the rides and the lights and the...the...touching and the death and he wants to believe things can get better?