I'm not late today.

Just for fun and to freak people out, Jacob's wearing a tie today with his rumpled plain white shirt and his newer corduroy jacket. Just for fun. He looks so handsome.

He couldn't tie it properly. He pointed that out repeatedly and finally I stood on the bed behind him and did it with my hands over his shoulders. He asked me how I knew how to do that and I pointed out it's just something girls seem to learn and so I learned it along with Lochlan and Cole as they moved from school and play clothes into formal wear, along with ironing and making braids. He told me that he was grateful for the ironing and soon his hair would be long enough for braiding again. We laughed. Ruth loves to braid his hair and she was more than a little perturbed when he came home with his short locks in the spring. Now that he is back to shaggy-long she's looking forward to adding beads and some rollers to her arsenal of hair accessories to use on Jake.

Today there's only one service, Sam has made some changes and is making some of the sparsely-attended holiday services sermon-light and community rich. Today was an open invite to help your neighbor rake leaves or take some food boxes down to the shelter and volunteer for an hour or two and then the standard second service will be at 11.

We didn't rake or make the trip downtown. Instead we slept in and I was gently awakened by Jacob smoothing his hands over my shoulders and then my legs and then he rocked me against him until I saw stars and could no longer breathe. And then he smiled and asked me if mine were as bright as his.

Stars are so much nicer than leaves anyway.

You know me better than I realized.

    Out of the ground I rise to grace
    Nobody knows it's just a phase
    Help me I'm out of breath again
    Nobody knows somewhere to make it go away

Upon waking this morning, I discover wonderfully dark gothic treats. Back into a groove we didn't have last year, as Halloween approaches we embrace autumn and longer, colder nights. Bloom where you are planted, so to speak.

This morning I found rose petals in the front porch. Not a packageful slipped through the mail slot but a handful shoved through. They were beautiful. Fresh, dark red turning to black around the edges. Jacob didn't put them there, he found them with me. He doesn't like them, finding it sinister, but I quite enjoy this one, whatever it means. Is that bad? I don't know but it's better than being afraid.

We hung paper garlands of fall leaves along all the porch windows. They'll come down toward the end of November and will help extend the color in the skies when the last of the real leaves fall from our elm trees this weekend or shortly after. There is a foot-high layer of leaves in the front yard that I need to tackle next week. Jacob says he'll do it but then he sneezes for days after.

We went to family therapy this morning and learned once again that kids are resilient and profound and aware and observant and the one thing they know for sure is how much everyone loves them. And how much we love each other. I was grateful for words such as those today. Then we went to an overpriced coffee shop a little ways from our favorite one, which was closed for the long weekend and had pastries that weren't quite as good, and coffee that wasn't as strong and servers that weren't quite as relaxed but it's okay, not every place can be the best one.

We stopped at the farmer's market on the way home and bought acorn squash and some baby pumpkins and some huge carrots and some indian corn too and Jacob bought this giant basket that someone was selling that their grandfather made and I can fit in it and he laughed and said it would look nice beside my spinning wheel because it might actually hold my fiber instead of only half and he was right and he gently teased me about making him a new sweater this winter and I probably will.

Joel showed up with non-alcoholic wine for Thanksgiving dinner, his acceptance of the invitation and a box containing a brand new pair of spendy headphones for me. Lowriders no less. I'll get mugged wearing them to run, they're too cool. Mostly because they have skulls. I like skulls.

Speaking of skulls, I just got another kiss on the top of mine, which means it's time to go. Errands to run before lunch. Hearing aid batteries, stuffing and Jacob's having his ahem...piercing changed to a bigger gauge, because he's so hardcore. My earrings are now 10g, and I think he feels left behind.

Snort.

On running with Joel.

    Cause I am my enemy
    The water's up to the knee
    I never wanted anything from you
    Yes I do, yes I do
    My engine's running on dry
    My head's so fucked up inside

Joel is a riot.

For all his importance that I tease him about, for all our issues in becoming...er...acquaintances, since we're still a few steps away from the friendship stage, he's a nice guy. He and Jacob have been friends forever and I respect that immensely.

My issues with him lie with his immediate heavy-handed approach in wanting to micromanage every aspect of my life when we approached him to help. My subsequent rebellion and amusing accusations did little to enhance his image of me but in vindication I have since heard that several clients jumped ship once he completed adopting Claus' practice because of his radically different approach. Claus has retired, of course. Joel has many irons in his professional fires, the least of which concerns therapy (thank god) because frankly...

He sucks at it, I think. And I should know. I have fired nine people now, in two years.

Okay, so maybe I'm not the best one to ask. But there are far too many counselors out there who are not as objective as they appear to be, and at risk for either getting sucked into you on a personal level, unable to maintain any distance, or they are so rigid they keep trying to shove you into a category and fail to notice you are a human being and when you don't comply they give up.

I seem to always get one or another, which is dumb. Which is why I wind up getting counseling on the fly from Jacob who does a magnificent job at being neither objective nor forgiving and well, it works about as well as you'd expect it to. But Jacob is still awesome despite having no business counseling his own wife.

In any event, I didn't sit down to talk about therapy (which sucks, did I mention that?), I wanted to talk about other things.

This morning was a barely concealed arrangement between Jacob and Joel that Joel would run with me today, since Jacob had early meetings (didn't I say the church would eat him alive again? He loves it, I swear) and is freaking busy all the time again, already (part-time, Sam, part-time. I think that means nothing.) so Joel said it was fine if we ran and didn't talk and so I brought my zen and he brought his iPod and we ran and ran and traded players every now and then (who the HELL listens to Sigur Ros when they run? Joel, that's who.) and we went down to the river and I held my breath until we rounded the corner and the bench was...upright. Not disturbed for the first time in eight days. Which is good. Maybe it was a fluke. Joel was pre-warned (thanks to Jake) and yet he said nothing and we kept going.

And then my headphones died an abrupt death. So Joel put away his iPod and we ran and talked, only we didn't talk about Bridget, we talked about Joel and it was nice to hear about someone normal without many issues and without a world of hurt and baggage dictating his every move. He survived a messy divorce quite admirably and is vaguely lonely but has some friends here and counts us among them, I think he meant Jake more than me but I'm sure he'll correct me after reading this. I hope we do become friends eventually but we had a very rough start. Hell, the day I met him was...a painful day and I'm colored by that forever. I come with a neon sign over my head that blinks constantly and flickers and gives people headaches and it says "insane" I think. I can't see it but trust me, it's there. How do you become trusting friends with someone who you first met as they held you down while you screamed in order to give you a sedative?

I didn't think so. God, what a horrible memory.

After my shower I dug out my old nomad player and stole the headphones from it. Of course they still work. Figures.

I invited Joel for Thanksgiving. I wonder if he'll come.

Blow me a kiss and explode into stars.

No worries, I'm not allowed to quit therapy because I took myself out of charge. I went today and I'll be going until things are better and then I'll be going some more.

I agreed with that, because it makes sense. I just wish sometimes it was less difficult, less invasive, less exhausting but Jacob keeps gently telling me it's very hard work.

Oh, and that I'm doing great.

He says that over and over again as we sit in a hot bubblebath, his chin on my head, his arms around me, his thoughts on nothing but the future and promises I am trying to keep to him that he knows I'll keep even when I have my doubts.

When life is said and done would someone saint him, please?

If our roles were reversed I would have stuck a firecracker down his throat and blown him a kiss into outer space by now and what he gives me is a wall. A human wall of strength, upholstered in flannel that I can bounce off of and push against and sometimes stand with my back up against it so I can see the monsters coming and sometimes I can climb right up it and be completely safe.

He said/she said.

Mr. Open isn't being so open today. Which means his head is preoccupied. In therapy today the subject of sexual progress was gingerly broached and I pointed out what had happened yesterday morning and Jacob denied it.

Because, really, who are they going to believe? Who is anyone going to believe? I point out my need for my own friends and not just Jacob's friends who are all on his side and quick to condemn my actions. I point out his complete and utter ignorance of Oct. 1, which was an incredibly painful anniversary in our lives and he bitterly pointed out that we fixed that and we're not marking any more dark days and just like that he decided that all was well and he wasn't going to dwell on any of it.

Or even admit half of it.

Like he won't admit that every morning we run down to the park by the river to Cole's bench to kill two birds with one stone and every morning the bench is upside down. Not just tipped over but turned end over teakettle and moved back so it's exactly on the spot it usually sits. Every other bench is fine and every single morning Jacob puts it back, which is no small feat since it is cast iron.

See, he's removed all the obstacles and once again is faced with the glaring part.

Bridget isn't well.

She should be by now, shouldn't she? I took away everything she knows, and everything that was in my way. Why isn't she better now?

Gee, honey. Maybe because you're not listening. Because you know better. Because no one's going to believe her anyways. She, after all, manipulates you.
Whatever.

I'm done with therapy. All it does is pit us against each other and that isn't what I want.

And WHY in the hell does everyone keep calling me baby? That isn't yours to use.

(I don't recall saying anything I haven't said before.)

Hey.

Hey.

What gives, Bridge?

Did I call you? Nope.

Maybe you should have.

For?

Help, maybe? Maybe because if you'd talk to me I could help you? I don't understand you, why don't you just ask for help when you need it? What are you afraid of?

Nothing, I don't need help, Ben.

I think you do.

Then stop listening to the wrong people.

I read it straight from the whore's mouth, sweetheart.

Nice, creep.

Sticks and bones, baby. I miss the give and take. I miss you.

Is there something you need?

Reassurance that you're okay or I fly back and kick his ass.

Ben, you need to stay where you are and worry about you.

I can take care of myself. You can't say the same.

Ha. Then you don't know me, and you never did.

I know you and I know how you deal with these things and I know how passive you become.

That's 'submissive', Benjamin.

Fuck, Bridge, could you just stop wrapping it up like a present? Didn't I tell you before? It isn't any different.

Sometimes, no, it isn't.

Oh, Christ. Oh my God.

Not your concern, either, Tucker.

You're my concern, Bridget. So stop putting it back on me.

No, you stop. This doesn't help.

Are you asking for help, then?

No.

Fuck, Bridget, I can't deal with you.

Then don't. I was under the impression we weren't friends anymore.

Then you don't know me very well either, baby.

Less imflammatory than it appears to be.

    Nothing more to give
    I can finally come alive
    Your life into me
    I can finally breathe
    Come alive

    I lay there in the dark
    Open my eyes
    You saved me the day that you came alive

There's a trigger in here somewhere in the perfect. Waking up in the dark after being in the light so long. And he tried to fix it, taking a page from a history book, maybe not the right approach. He tried to turn the black around, he folded me against him and tried to bend me to respond to him by forcing me to do things that were so familiar I think I briefly forgot who he was and what has happened since.

We pulled it out of the fire later on, pretending to be each other and I had ammunition saved from sunrise and it showed him precisely that even when I'm out of it and messed up and not able to save myself I know exactly what's going on and what's happening to me. The shame of that revelation quickly forgotten since he's above it all. Who is going question him? Who will stand up to him now? Everyone is gone. His only concerns are my whims and where they lead me and sometimes, though I only catch the barest glimpse of the real one beneath the public face and the so-called openness, I know that I have met my match. I like that, and that is my biggest weakness. That ensures I'll be hurt, and I like that too.

Fuck.

Bear with me, here, the day's only halfway through. The rescue is underway but not complete.

No one's lit the halos, baby.

No one's even close.

Sunday night was pretty good too.

Christian heard the truck before I did (naturally) and gathered up his things, meeting Jacob on the back step after kissing my cheek and telling me bye for tonight. He and Jacob talked for a minute on the path and then Christian went home and I opened the door wide as Jake came bounding up the steps and in, staggering back slightly and throwing his satchel to the ground in triumph.

Princess, I'm home. Literally and figuratively.

I know. I'm amazed at your energy.

It was magic.

Good, that's the way you should feel.

Amazing.

Awesome, Jake.

More than awesome, little bee.
I grinned at him and he grinned back and charged across the hallway, wrapping his arms around me and walking me backwards, my head bent back so I was facing the ceiling as he kissed me all over the place. He got to the stairs and stopped and looked at them and put his nose to mine.

You know, it's been a while, Bridget.

Oh, no way. It's cold, I'm still under the weather and those stairs hurt.

Okay, plan b for you, piglet.
He took my hand and led me into the living room right down onto the floor in front of the fire.

This is how evenings should end forever I think.

His hands fumbled with the hooks on my dress and he growled in frustration. I laughed and pulled the dress over my head and he kissed me hard and I tasted cognac. Pooh bear.

Oh I see you've celebrated?

Only one toast to my return, with Sam and then I knew I had to get home, because here is where I want to celebrate my love for you, my God.

You mean your love for God and I?

Whatever, Jesus, get out of this dress.

Welcome back, Reverend Reilly.

Standing room only.

Word travels fast. While greeting this morning, a quick head count was made and Jacob realized that there weren't enough seats for everyone.

Weren't...enough.

That's never happened before. A half-dozen men went down to the community centre and borrowed thirty stacking chairs. Still not enough. People lined the walls, filled out the back of sanctuary and Jacob began his return to the pulpit with a emotional remark about not telling the fire department how many people were packed into a room meant for about half that. It was met with loud laughter from at least a dozen of the volunteer firefighters who were present and then to Jacob's surprise a round of spontaneous applause.

True to form, with a catch in his voice and his devastating dimpled grin, Jacob paused and took one of his very long silent moments to just softly smile out at everyone, saving me for last, thank God, I was in tears already at the amount of love and support in that room today.

Announcements were brief. He commented on a similar but opposite phenomenon this same week two years ago when just eight people showed up for the service because of the flu and laughed and then had the perfect launching point for his sermon on humility.

Jacob spoke about everyone needing grace. About being willing to learn and accept yourself for who you are. It was as biographical as it was spiritual and no one missed a single word. I didn't look around, like everyone else I was riveted to his eyes as he spoke and when he wrapped it up he was rewarded with one of those other long silent moments in the church when you know people get it, when they have heard everything he said and are applying it to themselves like tiny firework epiphanies.

And we had one of our own, like we sometimes do, where his words are applied to our life together like a thick paint with very good coverage and it hides the mars and discoloration and makes a fresh new outlook possible. A sermon as a launching point for this week, for this year, which has been all about humility as we learn to work with what we have, move forward and be ourselves, taking help where we need it, being good people and not being afraid to say, I've made a mistake. Can you help me find my way back to where I need to be?

After his closing remarks, he walked down the steps and took my hand and kissed my cheek and then we took the kids to the door, where we usually shake hands and bid people well before Jacob would return to his office to organize his papers and do a postmortem with Sam on the service. Except today we spent close to ninety minutes receiving hugs and encouragement and kind words of support and the overwhelming consensus that the entire congregation was happy (no, more relieved) to have him back. I wondered briefly if Sam was the least bit put off by the reaction to Jacob's first day back but Sam was as sure as everyone else when he gave me yet another hug and told me that he is sure that this is where Jacob belongs.

I didn't think this would be so hard to write. There's a sense of homecoming that pretty much eradicates the uncertainty of every other aspect of life today. There's a sense of our support network being far greater than what we had previously acknowledged once again. It keeps growing.

Most people didn't give me the delicate hug and the it's good to have you back refrain. No, I got full-on hard squeezes and most people simply had huge smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes as they told us welcome home.

This gives him strength so far beyond anything else. He keeps turning his back on it and then he gets slapped down by life and he is reminded of what he stands for, and what he leans on and I don't think he'll try to walk away again. He's had a long search to find himself in all of this.

Once the remaining stragglers were gone, Jacob took a moment to say goodbye to us since Joel and Christian had convinced us that Boston Pizza would be so much more fun than going home for soup so off we went.

Lunch was fun with the five of us, those two get along quite well and Joel tends to analyze me less in mixed company (thank god). We came back here and Christian and the kids have spent a good hour or more playing games.

I called Jake a few minutes ago on his cellphone to see how he was and he was so emotional. It's such a huge part of him and he knows damn well the heartaches and the politics and the long hours are going to come spilling back in, the close shadow always present, but at the same time he has been redeemed. He knows this is where he needs to be and he needs it to be who he is. He needs it for strength and rebirth and he can get through anything with his faith as his soft place to fall.

I laughed softly and told him to remember that when he wants funding for fixing the fence or paint but really what he was telling me so gently was that he's aware that I can't be his faith and that his balance works and I need to work harder. A gentle but obvious recrimination but one I can accept.

With grace.

With humility.