Sam is indulging himself in his favorite curiosity of all. My brain. I think he absorbed that from Jacob, who, by the end of his time was alternately horrified and fascinated by the things I would say, think and do. It's okay, I was too. Nothing changes much except Jacob isn't here ever again and it stuns me on a daily basis how permanent and life-changing death is for those who stay behind. It's easy enough to distract me from that and Sam is doing his best, asking questions when he should have taken warning already. Or maybe he should have taken cover. That's what I really mean.
Surprising, how?
That the world keeps going around. That I can be happy when I was given reason to cry forever and maybe disappear too.
No one wants that.
You don't know what the dead want. They don't spell it out so easily.
He tells you. He warns you.
I think that's my imagination wishing to relinquish control of my surroundings. I parrot back things I have been told and Sam frowns.
Maybe it isn't, maybe he wants to protect you and has regrets.
There is no regret in heaven. At least, I certainly hope there isn't but he gets to know and we don't until it's time. What are your biggest regrets, Sam?
I'm not sure there are enough hours in the day for this sort of list today, Bridget.
Sure there are. Have a go.
Maybe I regret not pushing harder for things, taking chances.
Every decision you make in life is a chance taken, Sam.
To what end though?
PJ comes out and does a quick turnaround. If it's existential breakfast, I'll eat inside where I'm not forced to confront my incorporeal self so fuckin' early, he says to me and winks. I wink back, my eyes burning. Lochlan didn't let me sleep but staying awake with him was harsh and beautiful and I feel like every nerve ending is singing this morning. I couldn't sleep now if I tried.
To a bullshit conclusion that never actually resolves, Sam. We just drop it and become distracted by something else while it floats in the background. Only those who die have the guts to confront it head-on.
Confront what? Ben walks out onto the steps.
One's regrets, to the point where they would be able to resolve them before death so they don't have to carry so much baggage around in heaven.
There are no regrets in heaven. There's no fear, no anxiety, no wistfulness, nothing. Just happy shit. Pretty girls. And really really good hot wings.
I turn and glare at him, my hand over my eyes. He turns and goes back into the house too. I'm losing fans left and right with this but I want confirmation still. And I want Sam to open up because he hardly ever does and the day is ripe for confession. We don't do confession. I'd be there all damn week.
I regret marrying Lisbeth because she wasted so many years on me and I should have stopped playing games with her, pretending I could be a good husband to her when I couldn't.
Does she know this?
Yes.
Well, that's healthy. What else?
I regret trying to kiss you when you were in my office for help, not innuendo.
Forgiven.
Loch comes out. He has a bowl of cereal. What are we talking about?
Sam kissing me trying to see if he was gay, I lie.
When was this?
Right after Jake.
Jesus. You're all a bunch of vultures!
Sam smiles so painfully at Lochlan. We didn't know how to comfort her. But we tried. We were there. I'm busted. Sam's smile turns to a frown. (No, no, don't get into it today. Lochlan can't deal with Big Awful Things. You wouldn't blame him if you knew. He mostly disappears now if something goes wrong. I wish I could change it but it's part and parcel of why we all stick together. It's mostly just in case. They could nail us both to the floor. They'll probably have to.)
Loch lets it slide. He's very open with his own flaws. And?
Nothing. Well, a longing for a longing, I guess but no. I love Bridget as a very good friend or family member. She's like the little sister I never had.
Did you want a little sister because I have one and she's always been a royal pain in the arse! He takes up residence behind me on the lounger. I am done my food and starting to sunburn. I lean back against him and he complains. Augh! Let me eat my breakfast first!
I'm going to go in and get ready for the day then. I am tired. I've decided I don't want to be a science or religious experiment today and Sam needs to be let off the hook for whatever comfort he tried to give me. Some things are better left in shade. The point is, he's happy now and that's all that matters. Maybe we're finding a new plateau here. Everything seems like it's getting better. Routines, family dynamics. Emotional outbursts. Suffering.
Maybe it's spring fever too. Or maybe I'm hallucinating all of it because I'm just so fucking happily tired.
