(Banning alcohol from the grounds is next, but for tonight, hubris, Bridget-style.)
When I go outside with my basket of strawberries and knife tonight he is already there, waiting for me, sitting on the step in the place where I usually sit late in the evening, keeping company with the sea.
I freeze and turn to go back in. I was quiet, maybe he won't notice.
Don't go back inside, princess. I won't stay if you don't want me here tonight. He tips the rest of his glass up and swallows down the honey-colored liquid. I frown and stay rooted in place.
He turns and gazes at me curiously. How do you do it, Bridget? A question delivered in a broken whisper, blurred around the edges just enough to take the sharpness off.
Which part? I advance with my strawberries and walk down to the steps, sitting down beside Caleb. He pours three fingers of scotch into the glass and holds it out to me. I shake my head and hold the knife instead.
Missing someone who was a part of your life. How do you do that? I thought I could throw myself into work and different causes and your life and raising Henry but Cole is still gone. It's like a big black hole in my life. I don't want to be an only child. I'm so glad my child is not an only child. I realize this is not the same as never having had a brother or sister, but at the same time it's still about being alone.
I watch him quietly. His eyes are glassy, his hands shaking ever so slightly, his words slurred in the slight accent that I hardly ever notice anymore. I still vividly remember the last time he let his guard down like this. It's unnerving and shattering, that's what it is.
How do I move forward without my little brother being there? How do I step up and be as good a father as he was? How do I stop feeling guilty for finding pleasure in life when he doesn't even get to have a life?
He wouldn't want you to feel guilty because you're still alive, Cale.
Maybe he would, Bridget. Maybe he would call this a just reward for what I have put you through. Maybe he's waiting to take me down with him. Maybe this is why I'm still alone in virtually every aspect of my existence.
I am inspecting my knees. I don't know if he wants comfort or justification or a scapegoat.
He is gazing at me. He's having trouble focusing. This can't be the first bottle for Caleb, I know him better than this.
You're not alone, Caleb, I offer quietly.
He releases a bitter chuckle. Essentially I am, Bridget. I have worked my fingers to the bone for everything I have and I would trade it all in in a heartbeat for you.
For 'someone', you mean.
For you. Let's just be honest. Honesty is the only thing I have left that I haven't offered you.
Maybe you should get some sleep.
Why, you don't like to hear what I'm thinking? I live with the ever-present noise from within your head written down for all to see while you stand there and never say a word out loud but you can't take my thoughts for what they're worth?
I stand up, leaving the berries and the knife. I'm trying to protect you, that's all.
His eyes spill over suddenly and he turns away as he stands up. It is late. I think I do need a little more sleep, that's all. He wavers, giving himself away and sits back down quickly. It was that or fall down the concrete steps. I take his hand and take the bottle from him and pull him back up. I wait there while he steadies himself.
Are you okay to walk back home without help or do I have to call someone?
Maybe you could walk me to my door. I'm just a little bit out of my element this evening. Still with the formalities, since we are not behind closed doors. He can be the most amazingly proper gentleman in the universe sometimes and the biggest monster of my nightmares that I can conjure up in the very next moment. It's uncanny.
Sure. He holds out his elbow and I take it. I turn back quickly and stand the bottle on the ground. He doesn't need any more, what he needs now is sleep.
We take the long way around to the front of the house and then across and he tells me a little about his next project. Retirement has not been an easy sell for Caleb, who refuses to stop and enjoy the results of his efforts. I am intrigued because for once it sounds perfect for him. Finally we reach the glass doors on the deck of the boathouse and I remind him to drink some water before he lies down. I re-offer the assistance of one of the boys but he is adamant that he's only a little bit trashed and he'll be better tomorrow.
My apologists, your majesty. They will make my excuses.
I burst out laughing and nod. I wish I had this on film.
He leans forward, the smile slipping to the floor and kisses me. Hard. I can't breathe. Then he leans back again and touches the tip of my nose. I wish I had that on film.
I frown.
Oh, that's right. I DO. Goodnight, my sweet doll. Sometime you should come and watch our movies with me. But as I said, I am always alone. You're always with someone else. I know exactly how Loch feels and it fucking blows. All this, he gestures around, and I can't have the one thing I worked for.
Are you finished?
His gaze drops back to me and he smiles wide. Yes, princess. Stick a fork in me because I'm done and done. Tomorrow I will send flowers to atone for my verbal outburst. I mean you no harm anymore. I know I seem like a monster but really I'm just mean because I'm alone. Goodnight.
