Cold rain, warm hands.

Finally, the part of summer I like. 

The end. 

That doesn't make much sense, seeing as how I crave the super late-night sunsets and ridiculously early sunrises, how much I hate doing my morning chores in the pitch-black and how going out at four in the afternoon and needing headlights makes me cry. I'm famous for my daily announcements of the days getting longer at the end of each winter and I wish that part didn't exist, but this. 

This. 

Hot endless coffee, ochre-colored velvet dresses and red leaves that swirl down the storm drains in the driveway from the relentless rain. The sound of the rain on the windows while we are warm and cozy inside. Baking potatoes and roasts for hours in the oven. Piles of boys on the big couch by the woodstove or the fireplace or in front of the movie screen. Flannel shirts, back after a four-month absence and the end of worry as the motorcycles are heavily seasoned (inside joke for winterizing) and put away until the spring again, much to the ire of both John and (new) Jake. 

Batman emerges from his air-conditioned cave to herald the cool slow slide right into Halloween. Caleb stops being angry all the time (he also hates the heat. I think very wealthy people are just allergic or something), and all the tempers seemingly disappear. Everyone is up for endless cuddles and pumpkin pie from the market up the highway and we're painting watercolour bridges and lighting candles and plugging in the fairy lights all day every day.

I can decorate for Christmas and no one even complains. 

I can take down the fair bunting flags that I had strung from the gazebo to the poolhouse. They bleached white in the sun and now I can dye them teal blue and put them down on the docks for the winter. 

I can bake cinnamon rolls without getting heatstroke in the process. 

I can wear Cole's big grey sweater which inexplicably still smells like him and has never ever been washed since he died, which was fourteen and a half years ago now but seems like yesterday. Will I wash it? Never. I only put it on in the closet, give myself a long hug and then take it off, shoving it back under the pile of sweaters so no one can see it. Then I go give my devil a long hug and he'll tell me I remind him of his brother and then I feel awful, as if I am a living reminder of Cole's temper, as he took Caleb's pet project and all but finished her off, only to return her to the original sinner to continue on. 

Then I'll borrow one of Lochlan's sweaters instead, for this one is tan and looks nice with my dress, and when I come out of the closet he says There you are and I get a long hug of a different sort, a living one, a loving one that claims no ownership even though he has it all, his name stamped across my fingers just so there's no mistake because I always touch first.

Half tempo.

A knock on the door of the library where I sit waiting for the rain, sketchbook in hand. I haven't been drawing, I can't get out of my own way long enough, but I had been planning to do a little. 

The knock startles me and I cry out. SHIT! 

Sorry, Bee. I'm wondering if I can borrow you.

I jump up. Right. Ben doesn't have to ask. Where's Caleb?

I set him free for a bit. He doesn't need to hover.

He's just trying to make things up to y-

I know he is. I do like the fact that this gives you and Loch a chance to rest so let's leave it as it is for now. 

Okay. 

Come with me. Ben takes my hand and we leave the library and head downstairs and then turn right and go straight down another hall and then he turns and winks at me and opens his studio door. 

Can you stick around while I tune my guitar?

Are you going back to work?

No, I'm going to play a song for the love of my life, if she'll have it. 

I might have jumped up and down and done a little happy dance. He thought it was funny anyway but I got a song and it's the best Friday afternoon I've seen in a while. I texted Loch at the end and he came down and got a song too and this is now the best day we've had since Before.

For the love of God, please show me your heart.

 This morning when I came down the steps, I managed to arrive just in time to catch Caleb turning Ben's mug around so that he could easily pick it up by the handle, after setting down the cup in front of him at the table. We don't sit at the island anymore for coffee. Ben doesn't trust the tall heavy stools to hold his weight. They will and then some, but he doesn't trust them and that's okay, the table works perfectly too. 

(I trust them because I once climbed up Ben's back and right over him to dance on the island. PJ thought it looked like fun and followed me up, climbing over Ben and we laughed and laughed. So they hold at least four hundred pounds.)

It was a tender gesture and things are evolving again and suddenly Ben and Caleb are new best friends and I swear to God Caleb was put on this earth to torture (his former best friend) Lochlan and nothing more sometimes. 

Caleb has pledged that he will take Ben on, be his primary caregiver, look after whatever he needs help with and completely facilitate Ben's physical and emotional therapy until he is one hundred percent Ben or as close to it as he can get. Financially and time-committed. His very own version of restitution for what he has done. I'll maybe forgive him someday, like I have for everything else but for now I watch Ben lift the cup to take a sip, the barest of shakes making him slow his movements ever so slightly and I know I won't forget, like I haven't forgotten anything else he's done, permanently altering who we are with his own actions, thinking he can fix it all with money and attention to detail. 

Ben and I and Lochlan are just closer than ever now, further cemented together as Caleb's favourite triad of targets. He's left jagged, hideous scars on all of us now and we'll never be the same. 

He sees me (he knew I was there) and smiles.

Good morning, Neamhchiontach. 

Morning, Diabhal.

Be right back. Playing with iOS 14. Was serious underwhelmed until Lochlan showed me how to put the widgets on any screen, not just the home screen. Jesus. No one's talking about THAT. 

(Update: we cannot make this happen with the iPad OS. WTF Apple?!)

Update: You can change YOUR ICONS NOW.

Push.

Caleb met me on the steps last night just as I was heading up. The new routine is Ben says his goodnights and now usually Lochlan will go up with him and settle in to read by the fireplace. Lochlan is a huge reader and can finish a book in a day or two while it takes me weeks. I usually come up by ten or so and we cuddle down into the quilts and eventually go to sleep but sometimes I get up again and go read until my head starts to nod forward or Ben wakes up and wants big snuggles and sometimes we're all awake, sometimes no one is and we actually get sleep. Right now the routine is kind of blown up, a little bit rosy around the edges and positively brimming with light. 

But then the Devil comes along and smacks the illusion with a closed fist and it changes everything.

He pulls me in, kissing my forehead, wrapping his arms around my shoulders as he rests his chin on my head for a long minute. Too long. I finally make a move to go but he doesn't set me free. 

Neamhchiontach. Come up with me. 

I'm going to Ben and Loch.

Just a quick drink and then I'll walk you home. 

I laugh in spite of myself. He's funny like that. A desperate charm but it works, like squeezing a worry doll really hard hoping your worries will fill it up and leave you the hell alone.

A laugh is a good sign, he rocks me back and forth gently. 

I'm taking my cues from Ben. 

Ben has made no moves to acknowledge my role in what happened. 

Then once he does, I'll be back to visit and we'll go from there.

What do you mean, 'go from there'?

I don't know what more I can say right now. I'm sorry. 

Bridget, you go on how you feel. Ben goes on how he feels. This is carved in stone. Even Loch-

Is it? Right now I'm going on how I feel and I'm not putting his feelings aside right now either. He is my priority. Not you right now. When you needed me I didn't leave your side and right now it's his turn. He needs me. Can you understand that?

I feel his chin sharp against my head as he nods once and I pull back to look at him. 

Goodnight, Diabhal. 

Goodnight, Neamhchiontach. I miss you. 

Me too. Still going on how I feel. Damaged and brainwashed as always. Soon, I promise but it feels empty. 

***

This morning Caleb wants to take Ben out for a drive, maybe for an ice cream for lunch if they can hit a drive thru at Dairy Queen or something. Ben is surprisingly game for this. 

Lochlan? Not as sure. 

Caleb promises that he will look after Ben and they are off. 

Lochlan turns to me. Thoughts?

I don't know yet. 

He nods. Me neither.

Sam wants a barometer but this is all I got.

The phone is dead and one of today's gift baskets featured a shirt with a handwritten note that said:

For Bridget- Saw this and burst out laughing thinking of you. Look after him for us. XO

It's a white t-shirt, girl cut even and in big pink letters it says:

WORLD'S MOST AVERAGE ASTRONAUT

And I love it. 

It's from a super famous guy that was super arrogant until sitting with me in the kitchen for half an hour realizing I wasn't about to be charmed by him and that it was okay, and yet he remembered how much I like outer space and how unimpressed I was by him (and his friends) because music is a fluke. You produce a thing and if it hits at the right time in the right way you're a mega star. Then you have a formula and you milk it like a cow until it dies. Then you have to find a new cash cow to milk again and hope it's a heavy producer too.

Or at least, that's how it was back in the day. There is no plane of existence that suddenly places you above other humans, the only difference is we heard your name because of the thing. So get off your high horse.

I guess he didn't forget our talk. Huh. And I love it and Ben gave me his number, getting it from one of his producers and I called and left a voice mail thanking him for thinking of me. He also sent Nintendo Switches (I think? The long ones..these are yellow and turquoise!) for the kids, in case they didn't have one. He sent three. So he's not perfect, unless Ben counts as a kid, if I recall I made that joke too while he was here. 

Better than flowers, in any case. 

Today is a sleepy Monday. I went out early, watered all the plants outside, chucked some grass seed around, as is tradition each fall and we have some worn spots where it disappears sometimes and watered that too. It's supposed to rain by the end of the week and I cannot wait for that. I'll do a little more gardening to get rid of some of the things that are done for the season but I find it backbreaking these days and I don't know why. 

I don't sleep again. That's probably why. I had a really great week there during the summer and now the wakefulness is back, fear creeps back in, LIFE creeps back in and my brain is in space and I don't know how to handle earth at all anymore. 

He texts me back and I roll my eyes. Great. Now he has my number. Whoops.

The last place you saw it.

Ben is angry about Dalton.

I'm home now, why didn't you come up to me? 

I- I didn't even know how to respond to that. He's the encourager. He's a bigger freak than anyone. Always happy to see any of us let loose but most especially me. He knows what I need even when I'm not sure of that and suddenly I'm questioning my very being.

Well?

What do you want me to say? That's how it goes? Maybe 'sorry'? Fuck you? Are you even serious right now? 

My swiftly-returned fury is enough and he backs way off. Which is good because I'm about to dissolve and can't stand up to Benjamin the way I could probably stand up to anyone else. I'll fight with Lochlan or even Caleb to the fucking death but it scares me when Ben is angry, it leaves me feeling like I'll never be good enough or smart enough or trusted to do whatever it is that he wants. That's how it feels right now. I am suffocating, choking on the smoke and on his moods. I don't know what to do so I just freeze, standing there while he tries to control his expressions and not look too scary all the while to angry to worry about what he looks like at all. And now concern pushes into his features because now, well, now he's pissed me off.

He laughs. Now I get Caleb. I need you and you're gone off somewhere and I feel left out and alone. 

That's never been a 'funny' feeling in my book. 

Your book might be out of date, Bee.

And your accident might have triggered your jealousy bone. 

Oh, it triggered a bone alright. 

Jesus, Ben. I was banned from caring for you because I needed a rest and I was on my way up and Dalton asked me to stay. You know how rare that is and I figured you were already long asleep. Next time call me and I'll come right up. 

I haven't seen my phone in weeks, Bridget. 

Oh. Uh...It's probably in the studio. You could check?

I see what you're doing. 

Helping you find your pho-

I'll check after dinner. 

I'll help?

That would be great. He says it jovially, formally and I cringe.

Don't do that thing, Ben-

What thing? He looks so wholesome and honest suddenly. It's my favorite Ben, back for a brief glimpse.

That thing where you act cheerful and hope I'm not scared of you. I'm not. I just- 

I know, Bee. It felt weird to wake up and be absolutely enraged that you weren't there when I needed you. 

I'm sorry. It's a whisper but he hears it. 

No, I'm sorry, he returns with his own whisper and I hear that too. 

***

The phone was in the dirt underneath the lilacs on the far side of the pool almost in Batman's backyard. The well-watered lilacs over the past month and a bit. I think the phone is toast but it's in a bag of rice anyway. Time will tell. Not like Ben's ever really kept track of his phones so honestly this is the least-surprising thing to happen this summer.

Uh, I'll take you over to Apple this week. 

Okay. He's back to being childlike and agreeable. This is exhausting but we fix what we can and the rest will come.

Short. Not sweet.

All in all I don't know what to believe
But I told my friends I'm not sure if they're real
And I'm peering in mirrors for proof that I'm here

Half in, half out of this broken machine
Sick to the bone with some spectral disease
Came back from the void with the void still in me

Oh, how I wish I was here 

He's so quiet, almost like he's talking to himself and not to me. I came down to get out of the smoke and away from the construction noise. I think he likes the company but my panic never went away and I'm spooling up like a tornado again. He's attempting to help.

Right here. Shhhh. Shhhhhhhh. He looks kindly into my eyes before pushing his hand up around the back of my head, pulling me in, pulling me down into his arms, a place I don't know all that well even though I have been here before. I can't send you back like this. 

I shake my head. No, he definitely can't. I root for a kiss in the sudden smoky heat and he responds easily. This one is so easy to read. So easy to love and leave. So easy to crush on hard enough to draw blood in the palms of my hands, between my teeth, behind my eyes, leaving me bloodshot and heartsick and then in the next breath it's gone. The difference is that he isn't looking to be in charge, isn't looking to be powerful or overpower. He just makes the offer and this is only the third or seventh time I've taken it, my Teflon Jesus who never sticks around long enough in my heart that it hurts and he does that on purpose to not be a burden.  

He likes to pin me flat on my back, kiss a lot and he's usually either barking at me to sleep or asking me to go within a couple of hours. He's quiet about it and far more gentle with his words when he wants to sleep alone than August is, that's for sure. I don't leave feeling that I did something wrong, it's more like he gets full-up on Bridget and then he's good for a long while. 

Dalton's never been as predictable as some of the other boys and the last time I was here I brought Loch with me but someone has to look after Ben and yesterday I wasn't allowed and neither was Loch. We are exhausted and stressed and needed a break, which again I'll argue because Ben doesn't get one. 

Close your eyes, Poem. Ah, conjuring up his brother's charms will surely help. 

I think I have to go. But thank you for having me. I land a final kiss on his cheek and he laughs.

Thanks for letting me have you.

Friday's cancelled.

It's too smoky outside for me to breathe so I'm inside with the windows all closed and the fans on in bed with Dalton eating s'mores made in the microwave and watching season one of The Promised Neverland. It's so good it almost makes me forget we're surrounded by fire again. 

This is not the fresh clean snap-flame of a well-built campfire, this is filthy black smoke, debris floating through orange air, breath choked back in our lungs. Henry and I both have reactive asthma and so we are laying low. Ben is spending today with Daniel. Lochlan goes in between all of us. I have a blistering headache and am sleeping more than watching but it's a fast-moving series so Dalt is always happy to rewatch parts that I miss for dozing off.

None of the boys are outside today. Work is even stopped. I sent Emmett's crew home. They'll still be paid but no one should be exerting themselves and trying to breathe through this air quality nightmare. 2020 just keeps on coming, doesn't it? It's almost as bad as 2007 at this rate. Time will tell.

I wouldn't want to be any closer to the fires, that's for sure. 

 OMGOSH. 

Switchfoot's cover of Bowie's Space Oddity is freaking UNREAL.