Duncan finally called me.
At 5:45 this morning because time zones. He doesn't plan ahead. I thread my phone down under the covers with me and talk quietly into Lochlan's neck while Ben's arm rests uncomfortably under both our heads.
Cozy. Not sorry.
Dunk. Are you okay?
I'm fine. I'm just getting old and if I'm going to do this I had to figure out a way to do it without being fucked up all day and straight all night. You know?
I know.
I just want to be efficient and good and not needing a bottle on the table out here but then when I tried to just put it away I couldn't.
You can come home. I know someone here can hook you up with something local. With Ben.
Naw, I'm good. They're supportive. They had warned me a couple of times already. I think they're relieved.
But you don't have to do it there.
Do what? I'm just learning some new things. Ben makes a lot more sense to me all of the sudden, you know?
I turn my face and look at Ben's sleeping face. I don't know but I think I understand.
We want to be good men, Bridget.
Good Humans.
That's right, Good Humans. What comes easy for men like Lochlan isn't easy for guys like us.
Loch took his knocks early in life, that's all. He never had it easy.
True. But you know they say we're all more resilient when we're young.
That's bullshit. All it does is become responsible for how you finish growing, how you are molded into the person you become. Later on it's simply bad luck or bad planning or both. It doesn't shape you in development.
Your brain is complicated.
Just like the rest of me.
I'll think on that for a while then.
Not so long. Will you call tomorrow?
I'd like to.
Okay, please don't do it at quarter to six in the morning.
Jesus Christ! I'm sorry. Why did you answer it then?
Because it was you.
