Better moods all around today as I walk around with my hands outstretched, collecting reassurances that no one is choosing sides, that this is all for one and one for all. When I woke up this morning Ben had his arms around both of us, locked tight. Probably so he wouldn't fall off what barely passes for a double cot in the camper. Fifty inches of springy, uncomfortable goodness and yet I sleep better out there than I do in the finest hotels in the world. I'm sure I'm allergic to double-digit thread counts, and possibly air that isn't completely fresh. Case in point, Ben left the door wide open when he joined us last night and a bear could have walked in and had me for breakfast, I wouldn't have noticed. What I did notice that his hands were holding Lochlan's and that in their sleep they love each other and in waking they're learning.
Both pretend I was imagining things when I pointed that out but no one clarified whether they meant I was imagining that they held hands or that they actually are still learning things.
I'll go with learning, because I know what I saw.
***
A truce offered by the Devil, who knows his way around these sorts of things and wins just as you figured out he's been cheating at the game all along.
Your mark is healing nicely, he tells me as if I somehow injured myself.
I don't say anything.
We're on a loop here, Neamhchiontach.
Still nothing. But I shrug because sure. I guess we are.
What do I have to do to get through to you? To get your attention and a little bit of your time without forcing you into situations that leave everyone with a bitter taste?
(Oh, I have a flavor now. Who knew?)
Tell the truth. But not just when you want something. All the time. Anything I should know that I don't? I want it all laid out. Put all your cards on the table and stop holding things back and plotting and scheming and planning. Just tell the goddamned truth, Diabhal. For once in your life. I mean, for a man who's done as well as you have I don't know how you can sleep at night for all the lies you live.
I don't sleep. I wait for you.
See what I mean?
You want truth from now on.
Jesus, yes. It's not so hard. Look at how well things turned out when I told Ben I wasn't going to give up my friends with benefits. I flash him the biggest smile I've ever made and he breaks into hard laughter but then he swallows it so fast I worry he'll choke.
Okay. But you'll regret it.
When do we start?
Have dinner with me tonight?
No, because I'll be killed. How about lunch tomorrow on the patio?
Just us?
Well, I don't know. Ruth will probably eat before she goes out and Ben will be hungry. So I doubt it.
Then it will have to wait.
Why?
He smiles at me but it's pained. I told you before. I'm not a good person and in order to fix you I'm going to end up breaking you more.
His choice of words throws me because they're words I would say, not him.
I can take it.
That's what scares me. You can but you shouldn't have to.
Try me anyway.
I'm actually going to think about this. Not sure at this point that any truth I could provide would be worth the damage it does. Get back to me in the morning.
Dismissed, I guess. My head starts to hurt, badly. I didn't think that would be so easy and now I'm wondering if he's right. If it's not going to change or fix anything, is there any point to being truthful?
I decide that yes, there is, because the truth is always better than telling a lie to the people you supposedly love. Because if you have nothing else in your miserable life, at least have a little integrity.
