You've been trying my patience,I was met in the driveway at my car by Caleb today, who said Lochlan was due back shortly and that he was to furnish me with peanut butter cookies and cranberry juice. But that he didn't have organic cranberry juice so apparently Lochlan told him to cut it half and half with water to curb the sugar.
trying hard to make sense of
things we've gone and messed up,
things we've gone and made so wrong.
But maybe we can mend it,
Baby, this tremendous love.
Caleb waited until Lochlan left and laughed as he mixed a pitcher of vodka cranberry instead, because if you can't raise them right, you can at least get them somewhat drunk before dinner.
So that's where we are now. I was going to make stuffed chicken. I brought home a lemon blueberry custard pie for dessert. I had all kinds of plans but I can't feel my legs but that's actually a blessing since the last time I could feel them they hurt. so. much.
I have to go. It's my night to cook.
PJ can do it.
He's been doing it. Thanks for the drinks.
A beep from the driveway signals Lochlan's return as he locks his truck.
Told you.
I'm thoroughly disappointed.
I blush. Maybe you can come up later.
Clear it with your dad.
WOW.
How many husbands dictate what their wife eats?
Wait. How many husbands have I had? Three? Wait. Four. God. No more vodka.
PEANUT!
That's my cue. I stumble as I step out the door and swing off the knob and hey, there's Lochlan, up the steps, glaring at Caleb.
What'd you have, Bridge?
Vodka butter cookies and peanut punch. I mean-
Christ. Good job, Pedo.
Anytime, Pyro. See you tonight, Neamhchiontach.
Tonight? Lochlan looks so disappointed.
It was a maybe, baby. I smile up at him. At least we're all disappointed so we all know how each other really feels.
Christ, thanks for getting her trashed.
Anytime. Caleb returns my wave as I'm led away. Bye, Beautiful.
That's right. I am. I twist around to look at Lochlan face-on. I'm really hungry too. Someone needs to stuff the chicken.
Is that a euphemism?
No, silly. It's a recipe!