It just feels like forever is crashing down on me(Ben, Christian and Dalton are still in the states with Duncan. Word is he's not cooperating much. I'm glad I wrote that cheque for his treatment so he can be paid to be an arse.)
(Right. So in amongst Christmas shopping (fuck off, I have a SHIT TON of people to buy for) and the usual incredible load of perpetual chores/grocery shopping and boy-wrangling here I'm not doing so hot suddenly. I keep thinking it's a blip but the days are dragging on and the fluttering has reached maximum...flutterage. Jacob used to notice before I even did but he never took his eyes off me. Lochlan took a few days. I had to swear at him enough and then he stopped and thought, the hell?)
Come on, he said. Bring your coffee. Take my hand. Let's go for a walk.
He asked questions, prodded for some good memories. He let me cry without being impatient or frustrated. He stuck out his hand for mine again and didn't let go. He didn't say anything disparaging about Jake save to remark on how amazing it was that Preacher was able to wade so deeply into an established collective and do nothing short of take over, stealing the girl out from under everyone's noses.
How did you even fall in love with him?
I don't know. That's my short answer to soften it. I think Jacob was a blinding, intense light and I chose to engage in epic romance for a short time period which was better than choosing not to.
But I can give you legendary romance. (Short answers don't work well with mind-readers.)
But you cut it with reminders and lessons and caution.
It's hard, Bridgie. Sometimes you're equal, capable, adult. Sometimes you're not. I have to defer to the little girl on the inside. She...she needs me.
His composure gets drowned by the surf. He throws his arms around my neck. Who needs reassurance now?
I'll always need you. No matter what, Loch.
I thought he had taken you from me forever.
Almost. The truth. It hurts but there isn't any point in sugarcoating these memories.
He lets me go, wiping his eyes with the back of one hand. Jesus. I feel like I'm fighting a war.
No one's going to take your place, Loch.
Tell that to Benjamin.
He knows.
Then tell Diabhal.
He blows smoke, that's all, Locket.
Don't underestimate him.
Don't underestimate me.
Thanks for the reminder. There you go, being an adult again. Does this mean you're ready for some distractions?
Such as?
Some breakfast maybe? I'll make it. Then maybe a show.
Breakfast would be good but no show. You're supposed to be recovering!
Bah. If I was still on the road I would have been back to it already. I wouldn't have had a choice.
But that's the point. You're not, so you don't have to rush it. Get better. Take a break.
There are no breaks here, Bridget. If opportunity knocks you have to take it or it tries a different door.
This isn't about fire anymore, is it?
A prize for the little girl with the balloon!
I don't have a balloon.
I can fix that too.
(Dammit if he didn't take one out of his pocket and blow it up on the spot. And then he did his trick where he makes it float up over my head on a string. When he asks how it's floating and I say, I don't know, how? he'll reply in a very high voice that it must be the helium. )
(I no longer ask how he does these tricks. He rarely tells me anyway. He refuses to dispel the magic.)
(Lucky? Yeah. Very.)