We're going to have a good day.
I got up, showered and dressed. Trailed Ben to the truck and then into the grocery store while he bought way too much food. We're operating three months ahead of schedule and bought Christmas groceries today. Turkeys, stuffing. Cranberry sauce in cans. Gravy packets to round out deglazing the pans and minty ice cream and chocolate wafers for dessert. Baking supplies. All of it will keep in the freezer or pantry and so why not? We also bulked up on pasta and canned things for whatever coming apocalypse is next. There's always one. Things just work better this way.
Home and he and PJ and Lochlan put everything away while I tried hard to focus. Finally I woke up Henry for his school work and made some coffee. PJ dumped a good amount of Baileys in both my cup and his while Lochlan frowned at him.
What? It takes the edge off.
The edge of what, exactly?
The day. PJ looks at Lochlan until Lochlan looks away first. Pickled is better than fried, Locket. He says Locket in a baby-voice and I know he's trying to imitate me and instead of a punch Lochlan threw him a little mercy.
I know, he says to PJ and to PJ's credit he adds a second shot to each.
What? It's only like fifteen percent. You add vodka to her lemonade that's forty right off.
They don't say anymore but it's still going to be a good day. I take my coffee to the fire where Lochlan has built one of his all-day fires in the woodstove and I curl up in my corner, looping one ankle into the gap between the cushion and the arm.
It anchors me so if I fall asleep I don't fall off the couch.
But I won't anyway because Lochlan is finally gifted a doctored coffee too and he comes and sits next to me. Spreading out. Phone. Ipad. sketchbook. Elastic that he pulled off his wrist because they're too small for his bones but perfect for a loose bun. His sweater that I snatch up the second he lets go, pulling it over myself like a blanket.
Don't fall asleep with that cup in your hand. He pulls a table over, taking the cup. I don't know why he said it if he's going to take it anyway.
But it's going to be a good day.
I look up and Jacob's standing right on the other side of the patio door watching us. I frown at his face and Lochlan follows my gaze. Close your eyes, Bridge. Just listen to my voice. It's your mind trying to fill in the gaps, that's all.
Is it?
Yes.
Is he gone, Locket?
You know I don't see him, but give it a few minutes anyway.
I settle back, eyes still closed, warm sweater under my fists. Waiting out the ghosts. Because it's going to be a good day and Jake isn't allowed to wreck it.