Caleb made eggs benedict late this morning, with Ben's help and then set the table for four. I wasn't paying attention, as I was banned from the kitchen for the duration, forced to go to the library where I needed lights as it's rainy, damp and dark. I was called to the table a little after ten-thirty, starving, a condition announced loudly as my stomach growled when I sat down, surprised to find Ben and Lochlan at attendance, Caleb not even attempting to do a morning at-home date. He likes the late night ones anyway and I sneak hashbrown chunks, golden-crisp all through his remarks about fresh-starts marked by important days, and how working together will keep us together. Lochlan deflects every last word back onto the devil and surprise, this morning the devil is magnetic, the magician enigmatic, and the princess quiet, just watching them figure out this new endless present in the shadow of a hopeful future. The rock star is also starving and matches my bites, one for one. Trying to make me laugh. Winning the fight.
Maybe this future will be different, as they have been fighting over me since I was nine.
My god, it's been forty years. That's four decades of history now living in this house at last and we are still trying to rewrite the book. We can't change anything but we can control how we go forward from here.
Caleb says my name as I manage to finish the hashbrowns while he's talking.
Would you like some more, since you couldn't wait?
While you're talking the food is getting cold. I kick the leg of my chair, and Lochlan tips his plate towards mine, spooning a third of his hasbrowns onto my plate.
Make them last, he says.
There are five bags of them in the freeze- I start to point out and Caleb laughs.
We're just trying to have a leisurely Sunday brunch, he says. This is nice.
It is, actually. Especially with a third-more hash browns. The boys eat a lot more than I do so they usually put mountains of starch on their own plates and a traditionally-appropriate amount on mine. Though Lochlan always shared growing up, and looks like that isn't going to change. Hell, if there are more hash browns going forward then yes, I'm all in.
I think the rest of the day will involve teasing Sam about this week's podcast, as he got a little dramatic, and possibly birthday cake. Maybe Mexican food for dinner as I failed to choose a birthday meal but am also craving burritos.
You're still hungry? Lochlan listens to my stomach growl again as I excitedly discuss toppings and size requirements. A burrito must be as heavy as a newborn. Green salsa, not red. No sour cream but cheese, please. Yes, chips on the side, please. Gracias. Te agradecemos mucho.
Maybe this future will be different, as they have been fighting over me since I was nine.
My god, it's been forty years. That's four decades of history now living in this house at last and we are still trying to rewrite the book. We can't change anything but we can control how we go forward from here.
Caleb says my name as I manage to finish the hashbrowns while he's talking.
Would you like some more, since you couldn't wait?
While you're talking the food is getting cold. I kick the leg of my chair, and Lochlan tips his plate towards mine, spooning a third of his hasbrowns onto my plate.
Make them last, he says.
There are five bags of them in the freeze- I start to point out and Caleb laughs.
We're just trying to have a leisurely Sunday brunch, he says. This is nice.
It is, actually. Especially with a third-more hash browns. The boys eat a lot more than I do so they usually put mountains of starch on their own plates and a traditionally-appropriate amount on mine. Though Lochlan always shared growing up, and looks like that isn't going to change. Hell, if there are more hash browns going forward then yes, I'm all in.
I think the rest of the day will involve teasing Sam about this week's podcast, as he got a little dramatic, and possibly birthday cake. Maybe Mexican food for dinner as I failed to choose a birthday meal but am also craving burritos.
You're still hungry? Lochlan listens to my stomach growl again as I excitedly discuss toppings and size requirements. A burrito must be as heavy as a newborn. Green salsa, not red. No sour cream but cheese, please. Yes, chips on the side, please. Gracias. Te agradecemos mucho.