Choose your wordsFar be for me to ever keep up. All week long I really thought that, judging by the hints Daniel has been dropping, that Ben was planning to fly me to New York to meet up with him for the weekend, that he had asked Lochlan up here to share babysitting duties with Daniel and PJ and also keep me from going left of centre field in the meantime, as in Keep her out of the pantry until I can get her down here with me and apologize to her face for the last time I was home.
Choose them wise
I was mentally plotting dresses to pack.
I won't need any of them but we're still taking off.
He's rented a heated cottage somewhere but he won't tell me where, only that it's on a beach and that I won't need any clothes except warm ones for when we get off the plane, and he's got almost two days to make up last weekend to me and all of that will involve fresh memories but he said it in his growly voice and he didn't say fresh, he said flesh and he laughed and then I was laughing too because if anything, we need some fresh memories but I liked his pun anyway.
So yeah, no posts. No kids. No friends. Just Ben. Just me. Just the ocean roaring in my ears and his breath roaring against my skin and with any luck I will melt into a puddle of bliss and come Monday I will be poured back into my usual haunt here at the kitchen table in something resembling the previous Bridget-form, only more rested, less resentful and hopefully gloriously wind and stubble-burned.