Wafer tumbler lock.

I have an incredibly detailed theory about how certain faces, places and melodies are keys that open certain parts of who we are. Souls are locked. Some keys fit, some don't. I'm not sharing it in detail here today but it's been on my mind a lot lately.

In the middle under a cold black sky
The sun will only burn for you and I
In the moment before I lose my mind
These hours don't mean anything this time

Lochlan is following me around, guitar strapped on, singing radio lullabies at my back as I try and ignore his understated selfish glee. He hasn't stopped smiling as he puts on a show to lift my mood. It's working. Sometimes he opens up enough, putting away the practical side of himself and bringing out the fun side. Switching easily from parent to lover. I just wish he would do it more often. I need it right now. Ben and Batman have gone to New York for a meeting and I'm not all that thrilled about it. Neither were they.

Caleb invited us over late last night (no envelope but no surprise either) and asked Lochlan what he wanted. What would make him happy. What should he change about his proposal to me that would satisfy Lochlan in particular. That was when Lochlan tried to speak but instead he started laughing.

Caleb remained on the other side of the kitchen island. I think he probably had weapons stockpiled to just below counter height. But Lochlan didn't stop laughing and so Caleb ran out of patience and said he wasn't going to discuss this until we could be serious. He walked to the door and held it open so we could leave.

I attempted to apologize for Lochlan's verbal paralysis but the giggles are incredibly contagious. The Devil merely rolled his eyes as we staggered out the door and back across the driveway.

I was asleep within twenty minutes, I think. I don't do late evenings so well sometimes now. I'm always tired and back to drinking coffee after lunch to try and beat back the early evening yawns and the massive crash that hits whenever I stop moving long enough to entertain it.

When I wake up with a start, it's pitch dark and silent, very early in the morning. Loch is awake too. He rolls up onto his side and kisses me, his hand sliding into my hair as he lifts my head up off our shared pillow. His arms tremble slightly.  His other hand slides down to my hipbone, grating against it with his thumb as he pulls me under him.We sleep sandwiched together so he doesn't have to bring me far. His heat keeps me simmering just under one hundred and three degrees. He is impatient, unintentionally rough and deliberately gentle all at the same time.

He lifts himself up on his arm, forces my legs around his waist and brings his weight back down. My breath comes out in a rush against his neck and his arms come up around me as he finds a rhythm that works with our song. Another key, this one involving perfect timing and a melody that plays in my head as he moves us. It fits. We move so much more slowly than most and I don't know if that's because it's just something we do or if we've figured out how to bring ourselves up to molten lava temperatures while barely moving at all.

In the dark I feel his face smiling against my cheek, his head ducked down, pressed against my hair, his weight keeping me right on the verge of hyperventilating, the song filling my ears and leaving everything else out.

Another kiss as he brings us through that motionless crawl, and I think I've died. If this is my final breath I'll go, willing and swift. Loved. But he is not finished yet. He winds me right out to the edge where I dangle over the earth far below us and then he pulls me in and I hold on to him as he peers down to check the surface of the earth too.

There isn't much to see down there. The clouds with their sterling linings have obscured everything and so we stay where we are, long out of breath, steam rising from our skin, pale curls raked across both of our foreheads, eyes locked in the dark.

Keys.

When we finally release each other the cold air rushes in to cause shivers and I hastily crawl down to the bottom of the bed to pull up the sheets, the duvet, everything that wound up on the floor.

I drag everything back up and bundle down into the covers and he bends his head down, kissing the top of mine and he says to me,

This summer marks the beginning of my thirty-fifth year of being in love with you. I want to celebrate.

And then he falls asleep so fast I can't respond, and so I just lie there wide awake, my heart hammering against my hands, clasped against my chest. We should throw a party, I think to myself. We really should mark this somehow.

Wait, we just did.

Before I can stop myself the giggles take over again, quietly at first but soon enough my shoulders are shaking with the effort and the noise is enough to stir Lochlan awake. His lifts his head from the pillow and slurs,

Maybe someday we'll grow up and be mature enough to know when enough is enough. Go to sleep, Peanut.

That does me in. I don't sleep for the rest of the night. I just lie there in the dark and grin.

They should have put DIFF ICULT somewhere.

When I came downstairs yesterday evening Duncan and Ruth were shaking off their coats in the back hallway. Ruth looked relieved and told me she went to apologize to Caleb for the email. She got Duncan to go with her for moral support or backup or protection or something, I don't stop to let my brain parse the possibilities.

What did he say? I ask.

Not to worry about it. That he tested the limits when he was my age too and he understands my position. What does he mean?

That he's smart enough to know you will always side with your dad.

Oh. Can I go to my room now?

Yes. Thank you for going to see him.

Tomorrow night he's going to do a sundae bar.

You're lucky, kiddo.

Ruth disappears up the stairs and Duncan waits until she is long out of earshot before opening his mouth.

Bridget, you're struggling with not projecting your feelings about being a teenager onto Ruth.

What do you know about being a teenage girl?

Sadly, not enough to have this conversation.

It's okay. It's...a long story.

You really okay Bridget? Maybe if you talked to me or someone, anyone, you wouldn't be strung as tight as drum all the time.

You want me to be loose?

That's a whole different conversation, ma'am.

***

I see you hiding in the palms of my hands
And I'd be afraid to let you go
But I don't see what my eyes are supposed to see
And I lost myself
Do you need to question everything?

 I woke up this morning covered in sharpie again. My knuckles say NOGH OSTS.  Loch's printing. Up and down my arms he scrawled validation in between my tattoos. Over my stomach he wrote promises he made to me that he's kept. He wrote backwards so I could read the parts I can't readily see in the mirror. He's thoughtful like that.

Written across my knees is a love letter, facing me so when I sit in a chair I can read the whole thing. It's in Ben's writing, since he makes things easier. It's beautiful and smudged and indelible and sweet. Lyrical. On my toes he wrote COUR AGEO.

I ask him where the US went and he said we're right here.

I am careful not to scrub too hard in the shower, only to rinse away the night with the washcloth and leave the words intact. On and under my skin. At one point I seriously considering having all of these words removed. Burned away leaving clean new flesh. Faded and barely remembered, words that once meant everything are now relics of a whole other life, stabs of pain, epic spells of insecurity. Regretful words. Do they make me who I am or was I trying to become someone else?

And then Lochlan said any time what's under my skin gets to be too much they would write new words on the surface but I could wash them off when I wanted. This gives me a little control when I feel like I don't belong in my own skin, when my self-esteem takes a dive and never resurfaces.

Because let's face it, I have none. No self and no outward. Which is why they patiently watch me set myself on fire from the inside out. The only thing I remember from last night is asking Lochlan if we could eat fire because I was drunk and it would be dangerous and impressive and then look, look how amazing I would be.

He shook his head and told me I already was but that it was sad I didn't believe him. I never believe him. I don't believe in much of anything these days except love and whatever other imaginary futures I can make up in my head.

Yeah fuck it.

She's got bigger balls than everyone.

The day just gets better and better. Caleb just forwarded this email he got from Ruth while she is at school:

I just heard the best joke!

Love is like a fart. If you have to force it, it's probably crap.

LOL

The subject line said "Team Dad". Excuse me while I go high-five my kid. Ahem, I mean give her a lecture on respect. Oh, who am I kidding?

Engineers.

We're at Easter dinner with Cole's parents. Cole sits to my right, and across from me sits Caleb. Both brothers hold their fork the same way, between the middle and the index finger. I'm not sure when I noticed it, probably when I first started attending these holiday dinners a few years ago. Cole and I are engaged now and Caleb is finishing law school. His mother asks about the big dinner and dance after convocation. She is hopeful that he is going to work and study less and maybe date more.

I have a date for the dance, yes. I've invited a classmate. 

That's wonderful! Anyone we have heard of before?

No, her name is Sophie. She is a first year student. 

Will we get to meet her? 

I doubt it. It's just a dance, mom. Please don't read more into it than is there already. Wait for the burden of proof. 

It's just that you've got so much going for you. We'd like you to find someone to share it with. 

When I can convince the right girl, I would like to do exactly that. He stares pointedly at me and I ignore him. I am eating everything on my plate because we can't afford fresh vegetables or prime rib roast. I'm soon to be nineteen and I woke fifty hours a week and it all goes to rent and paint and film. Cole is in school too, though art school so far pays nothing. Caleb is twenty-six and has the most beautiful apartment downtown, close to the university. If you ask me though I will tell you I've never been there.

***

I help clean up the kitchen after dinner. Cole's father comes in to get new beers for the boys and he and Cole's mom have a hushed discussion by the sink.

Do you think he's gay?

Does it matter? I just want him to find someone and not be alone. 

I think he has. I just think he doesn't want us to know yet. But I can't figure out why for the life of me unless it's a man. 

I wish he would find a girl like Bridget. She's so helpful. They have switched gears. I didn't realize I had stopped moving to listen. I'm caught. I blush.

I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude on a private discussion. 

Do you know anything about anyone he might be seeing? Has Cole said anything?

I don't-

Look, honey, I'm sorry to put you on the spot. Of course that isn't fair. Why don't you let me finish up, you can go spend time with Caleb. You and Cole hardly get to see him these days. I don't remember having to work this hard when I was your age. 

It's fine. We have big plans. 

You're going to be a beautiful bride. 

Thank you. I hope I can make your son happy. 

I fail to distinguish which one as she passes a stack of dessert plates to me, forks on top.

***

We're in my kitchen, finding more plates. We keep running out and I have switched to paper. PJ went to the store for me. There is hardly room to breathe. The memorial ended and everyone gravitated to the house. Cole's mother wants to serve pie to all of the boys so they can choke it back along with the first taste of mortality they have ever experienced. I wanted to leave Cole, I didn't want him to die. And I don't want to face his mother. Not now. Not like this, with Jake in the living room trying to wear all of his hats at once. Minister, backstabber, outsider, future.

I wish you would have just left Cole for Caleb. He's been in love with you since you were in pigtails. I knew a long time ago that you were the reason he never found anyone. He's done very well for himself. You should have maybe chosen him.

You would have wanted me to be the reason for your sons betraying each other and maybe hating each other?

You're right. But now there's no reason to hide anything. I think Jake would understand. He's new to the group of friends, isn't he? He won't be alone for long, that one. 

I stop and stare at her. I am horrified. I don't love Caleb like that. 

It might come in time. He has the resources to provide for you and the children. He can give you everything. In time, you might develop deeper feelings for him. 

It's so warm in the kitchen suddenly. I make my excuses and run upstairs. Jake follows but I don't stop. I run into the bathroom and am sick to my stomach. Jake bursts in and pulls my hair back from my face. He's asking what is wrong. What did I eat? What happened? I brush him off, telling him it was all the drinking I did after we left the hospital. That it's catching up with me now. He believes me.

When I come downstairs, Caleb's mother is still waiting for me. She says she's called Caleb and he's flying in in a few days, as soon as he can wrap up his immediate business in Toronto. He's so important he misses his only brother's service but now he's clearing his schedule?

My face turns white. I haven't even had time to tell Jacob anything. It's been a good three years since I've seen Caleb and things are finally settling down. I think we've put the past behind us but now it's going to catch up again. But all of that is a distant nagging fear in comparison to the sharp ache of death and trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I broke Cole's heart and it killed him.

Part of me wants to be thrilled that I paid him back with such finality but the rest of me is too shocked to feel any relief at all. It's all caving in because I wanted out. And now she wants her only living child to be with someone like me? Don't people realize what I've done here? Can't they see how many mistakes I've made? The value that's been placed on my head is far more than I'm worth. I don't say anything to her in response to her announcement. Jake sees the pallor of my skin and sends me back upstairs to sleep.

Only I can't sleep. I watched Cole sleep and while he was sleeping he died. And right now I would give anything to have him back. He could fix this mess. Or at least make it less obvious that we made it.

Not waving but drowning.

Another day, another restaurant forcibly removes someone from the establishment after a table-clearing brawl. I picked up my glass and missed all the cues from what had been an almost civilized lunch thus far and the table came away from me as Lochlan threw himself at Caleb.

He finally found his outrage. I don't know if he was unfocused or distracted before. I think the shock of us moving twice in a week and then me taking the proposal (which still hasn't been explained in case you think I'm the harlot of the century here) left Loch a wee bit dazed.

Not today though. Today he gritted his teeth right through the food being served and then Caleb said something about again being glad I wasn't in my Converse All-Stars and BOOM.

I was going to ignore the comment, which was directed right at the one guy at the table who had All-Stars on. Green ones today. Allegiance to the Princess. He could only show more of a bent if they were pink.

Caleb has good reflexes and is six inches taller than Lochlan and probably thirty pounds heavier. He is in good condition. He won.

He was up out of his chair to meet the human cannonball and instead of blocking the punches he threw a few of his own and I yelled in alarm and five of the waiters ran over and pulled the boys apart.

And then the manager asked us to leave, that he would bill for the dishes.

Lochlan shook me off, heading out in a fast walk and I ran after him. Finally I caught up and made a grab for his arm. He spun around and threw himself into me, closing his arms around my back and rocked me in the middle of the sidewalk and asked me why in the hell I took the deal. We are 17 and 12 again. We need help and help isn't coming.

If I can't get rid of him I'm going to take everything he has. We are. You and me. Together. You know this. He pays, we win.

We didn't win, Bridgie.

Sure we did. Or we will, anyway.

He thinks he's a sanctioned third wheel now and I didn't sign up for that. 

Neither did I. 

BULLSHIT, Bridge, your conversation with him about the rules isn't fucking funny, it scares me! 

You were all for it when you saw the money. 

I can't do this. You won't survive it.

It's the only way to get to him, Loch. There's no other way.

Walk away. 

I'm not doing this with you. We're going in circles. Let me take his worth. Literally and then it will be figurative in the end. 

Walk away, Bridget. Or-

Or you will?

No. Fuck no. Never. 

Then help me here. Help me finish this. 

You're in over your head. So am I.

Yes but we're together over our heads! That's all I care about.

That's not enough. Not this time, Bridget. Remember? You're not a strong swimmer. And I'm so tired.

Taste less.

Caleb asks me if I've had time to construct a list of rules for him, to be fair. I haven't. I am so out of my league here, I'm not even sure which sport this is. I'm game for poking fun at the weirdness of our lives though. Freak flags and all that, fly 'em sky high. If anyone thought we were serious, I might correct them. Then again I might say nothing at all.

Do you have yours?

Some, yes, Princess.

Well, let's trade. 

Ladies first. 

I wait and then burst into laughter. It works for PJ but the joke is lost on the Devil. He doesn't think he's a lady, I guess. Deep breath. Fine. You have to listen to the safe words.

He reddens and looks at his shoes briefly. You have to say them. Out loud.

My turn to blush. No biting. 

No hearing aids. 

No Russians. 

No Converse All-stars. 

No Peyton. 

No husbands. And for the record, Peyton has nothing to do with this. 

She personifies high-risk behavior. 

As does everything I do. But I've never slept with Peyton so you have no worries. If you'd rather I didn't date then I won't. 

You did sleep with her. You told me you had needs. 

Right. Every now and then I'd like to have a conversation with someone who is over twelve, doesn't punch me before they hear what I have to say and doesn't fall asleep the moment they sit down with a drink. But no, I didn't sleep with her and if you're calling me a liar then I would like an apology.

Sorry, yeesh. 

Don't be. It's adorable that you're jealous. And that you fall asleep practically standing up.

Yes, so adorable you need to rent Peyton to offset the horror of it all. 

Do you have any more rules for me, Bridget?

I'll have to check and have my assistant get back to you. 

I have one more. 

What is it?

That we agree to no rules because all of these are terrible. 

Fine but if you bite me they'll kill you. 

Hey, if you don't say the words when you need them I might kill you first.

Big broken dreams and fresh tracks.

I know I tried
I was not stable
And flawed by pride
I miss my sanguine eyes
So hold my hands up
Breathe in and breathe out

So love the one you hold
And I'll be your goal
To have and to hold
A lover of the light

I don't think Loch even noticed as I held the button down until the song was so loud it drowned out everything else. He kept right on talking. Whatever he was saying he was earnest and convicted and passionate about at least.

Finally after five minutes straight as I tried to memorize the words, the music faded and he said,

...so if he thinks you're going anywhere but straight on to heaven he's going to have to answer to me. You belong there, more than anyone else in this world, Peanut.

He took a deep breath, maybe the first one of the day and then he cocked his head. Hey, what song is this? It's amazing.

Uneasy listening.

I will try not to worry you.
I have seen things that you will never see.
Leave it to memory me. Don't dare me to breathe.
I want you to remember. Oh. (you will never see)
I need something to fly (something to fly)
Over my grave again. (you will never see)

I need something to breathe (something to breathe)
Baby, don't shiver now.
Why do you shiver now?

Lochlan made a playlist for me to listen to today. He's gone off with his portfolio tucked under his arm to a job interview meeting and didn't want me to be without musical direction.

But I'm actually not so sure it's for me, I think he might have made it for himself, but he left it up on the screen of his laptop so I would find it, so maybe it's for both of us.

1. Learning to Breathe -Switchfoot
2. When will you Breathe -10 Years
3. Speak to me (Breathe) -Pink Floyd
4. Every Breath you Take -The Police
5. Harder to Breathe -Maroon 5
6. Breath -Breaking Benjamin
7. Breathe Again -Alter Bridge
8. Billy Breathes -Phish
9. I can't Breathe -David Gilmour
10. Try not to Breathe -R.E.M.
11. Teach me to Breathe -Soul Asylum

While he is gone today and Ben is working (DON'T EVEN START), Caleb thought today would be a great first day of the rest of our lives or something equally assinine. He invited me down to the boat for breakfast. I think he was incredibly relieved when we moved back to the point and he didn't have to scramble for a berth at the yacht club if he had to sell the property. Moorings are very expensive and the waiting lists are long. He cannot buy his place in line, therefore big headache.

I save him so much money, don't I?

So he offered me breakfast. But he didn't actually make it, he had it delivered. And he's starting to recognize that I have a mind of my own because he ordered...

Sausage and egg Mcmuffins! And hash browns! Not just two but four, because fuck one, I can eat two and I don't share. And their famously bad good coffee. I can't decide but I like it just the same. Take that, fourbucks.

(McDonald's on the water is probably as close to heaven as I will ever get, Jake. I won't end up with you. It was never in the cards, Cole made sure of that and I think we both knew it.)

When I was just about finished my breakfast, Caleb started in with the rules he will expect me to follow when I spend time with him.

It wasn't anything I haven't heard before. No surprises, nothing outrageous. All in all, a good day so far. Cross your fingers for Loch. He really wants this job. But you didn't hear that from me.

Or maybe I didn't hear that from you.

I've felt the coldness of my winter
I never thought it would ever go
I cursed the gloom that set upon us
But I know that I love you so

I am listening to his latest effort while Zeppelin plays softly on the other side of the room. Ben has made the big headphones as small as they will go and still I have to hold them to my ears or they slide down over my jaw. They fit him perfectly. He has a big head.

The way he tells it I have a freakishly small skull that fits well in just one of his hands. I point out that my brain is equally smaller than the average human and therefore I must be more stupid than most and he nods very seriously. That's why you married me, he says.

Shut the fuck up, Ben.
 
Keep listening then, Bee.

So I turn away from him and close my eyes so I can feel the music, not physically this time. Oh my God. I don't know how he does this. It's beautiful and sweet but it isn't soft in the least. It's just as if he briefly makes himself transparent and allows us all to see. And then you blink and he's gone again and you realize you don't know a thing about him. I'm learning to deal with that part.


You want burgers? He's back to being always hungry, the weight he gained while he was in the states virtually falling off when he got home. That or it's the lack of a five-star chef here. I do my best but he's hard to keep satiated. Case in point, his hands slide down over my hips as I stand beside his chair and he pulls me into his lap. I'm hungry but not for food, Bridget.

The kiss that comes next leaves me lobotomized, loved. Ben's kisses fix everything. Had I known he was such a good kisser previously, I...huh, I have no idea but I don't pass them up now, I tell you.

His hands slide up under my t-shirt, under the camisole underneath to make goosebumps against bare skin. He's clearly starving here and I climb off his lap and try to pull him out of the chair to come upstairs with me. But when he stands up he lifts me up and slides my clothes right off and then carries me to the wall where I am pinned and left.

His breath is warm against the top of my head and my nose bumps against his chest as I am squeezed tighter and held harder than usual. He's tired. There's no finesse here, we're looking for comfort and familiarity and release. Polish can wait for another night, tonight is all about need.

 Just when the alarms begin to sound in my mind that he might actually break my bones through my skin with his hands holding me so tightly he reaches his turning point and then he backs away from the wall, slowly, still holding me, backing right down into the chair.

My little muse, he says, pulling me in against his chest. My legs dangle over the arms of the chair. I look like a reject from the Houses of the Holy album cover that is on the floor near the stereo.  

Is cold, I laugh in return. Jesus. It's freezing down here.   

What are you talking about? It's hot. Oh, wait, that's you. Haha. Hey, what are you doing? Don't put those back on.   

You want me to cook dinner naked?

Yes, yes I do.   

I don't think the boys would appreciate that. 

I think you're wrong, little bee.   

Okay, the kids. I don't think the kids would appreciate that. 

True. Here's your shirt.   

Thank you, sir.  

I'm not giving you back your jeans though. You look cute like this.

Oh, come on!