Sometimes the angels punish us by answering our prayers.

I might still be high.

Last night we went to see Rush for the third time. It was so laid back I sat in my seat and drank beer ($10 for imported Keith's from home and yes I paid that without shame and it was WORTH EVERY CENT) right up until they came onstage and then I stood up and remained standing for the three hours of blissful music. BLISSFUL. I was more happy to hear stuff from Clockwork Angels than anything, especially Carnies. That's a recent favorite. The whole catalogue, however, paled in comparison to The Wreckers, which was a masterpiece live.

And I still can't hear the little vignettes that they play in between sets but that's okay too. I'm just happy to be there.

(I'm also completely obliterated today because I have a gift for choosing seats online that come with built in companions who smoke copious amounts of drugs and while I don't really care or partake, this little princess is no match for the almighty British Columbian weed, it seems.)

A very special thank you goes out to the bald man one row below who unknowingly taught me how to take a better concert photo.

I present to you the HDR setting: 

I love this shot. It looks like an aquarium. I think these were the lights during Wish them Well. 

What an amazing night. Lochlan is still sleeping. I'm up early hoping for my phone call so that I can tell Ben all about it.

Brokedown palace.

(I was allowed back on account of it being daylight and for the promise of a hefty freelance paycheque and and because he is Henry's father and Henry was there doing a puzzle at the kitchen counter, a glass of orange juice and two chocolate-chip cookies stacked near his elbow. But being at the boathouse is not what this entry is about.)

Little impish one, remember what we planned
We won’t hear whistles calling when we are out to sea
Come lay under my wing, morning’s over the shore
I love you, I can teach you if you believe

I have on a tiffany-blue embroidered shift dress and cream-colored leggings, no shoes, blue toes and Caleb clearly disapproves. I'm parked on the big couch in front of the big window drinking tea and listening to music while I fix the latest round of crap notes from the temps that keep getting hired and fired. I believe the last one's name was Samantha. She lasted four hours. He said she left in tears because he barked a whole list of orders at her and then didn't say anything else for the whole morning, even when she asked for clarification on something. His positively icy objective disdain is kind of scary. Back to the drawing board for him.

Or you could work for me. 

We go through this every summer. I need a real job. 

This is the best job you will ever have, hands down, Princess. 

Hands where?

Bridget-

That's why. Because of that. Because you never act like a boss with me. 

What do I act like?

Like a lover. A real busy one but still. 

He laughs and I have decided my whole life is a farce. Lochlan hardly speaks to the others save to hammer home his ownership stake in me so far into the ground it popped out in Austria five days ago. I need to find him and let him know I'm fine. I said I would spend an hour and I lasted forty-eight minutes total.

I make my way back across the driveway barefoot and enter the side door to the kitchen only to find a war zone of dirty dishes and recycling to be sorted. Only I shouldn't be cleaning up this mess because I didn't make it.

Lochlan comes into the room and I'm still standing there looking at the sink.

Hey. What's wrong.

I need to get out of here. 

Why?

Really fucking overwhelmed right now. Drive, don't talk. 

Without a word he passed me my bag and grabbed his keys. He went out back and lied to PJ and PJ confirmed he would take control and then we were off. Halfway down the highway I turn in the seat toward him and tell him to pull over, I think I'm going to have a breakdown of some kind. He doesn't.

He keeps going until we hit the parking lot at the beach and he comes around, flinging open my door and pulling me out and half dragging me down to the edge of the water until I focus on the horizon and he stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders. I lean back against him, take a deep breath and start to cry.

How I know I'm awake.

Lochlan is going to seethe through every interaction he has with Caleb and instead take his frustrations out on Sam and Danger Duncan, putting them on notice every fifteen minutes or so it seems for standing too close/touching me/being too possessive.

I asked them both to give us a little breathing space while I sort out his misguided perceived affronts.

Sam will return to sermon writing, premarital counseling (for the record twelve weddings he has between now and mid-September) and the agony of planning his own wedding, Duncan will put his shades back on, collapse into a lawn chair wearing only a kilt and read.

Both don't deserve the shit they got this morning for doing exactly what they're supposed to do, shadow me as I wander around the property being Difficult. They drew the short straws since PJ is traveling, Christian is away on business and Daniel has gone to spend a family weekend with Ben.

(Excuse me for just a moment while I hit my head against the stone wall out front until I get really dizzy and hear loud wet smacking sounds.)

And Caleb is out front with the children while they teach him to ride the unicycle.

(Excuse me while I swim in my disbelief. Tired. I think I'll float on my back for a while now.)

Ruth loves everything about it save for having to wear a helmet. Dad insists. I don't think Caleb is too worried but if she has to wear one so does Henry. At least that's what Lochlan told them when he gave a little brush-up skill lesson before the kids took over and Caleb came out to vie for favoritism. He needs to step up the game, there's a Midway this weekend and that is Loch's arena entirely.

Lochlan wanted to take a nap with me in the sun to rest up for the coming weekend festivities but first I made him go and apologize to Sam and Duncan for being such a big shithead to them both and he did, taking me by the hand as witness and tracked them both down and gave them long hugs and said he was stressed and that was no excuse for his behavior and that he was sorry. He asked for forgiveness and got it willingly. Pretty sure it was the hugs. Everyone loves those.
 

Standard practice (with a gap in between of only thirty-four years, precisely).

I got it into my brain that if I could somehow get them both on board I could fix all of the broken things. Them together, alone with me, without Ben, just the way we used to be, the three musketeers, me playing monkey in the middle, midway through yet another ruined popsicle while Caleb drank a beer and caught up on hometown news and Lochlan ate enough hamburgers to feed a small village before venturing into a sort of dinner-coma where he lay.

It was like having two big brothers sometimes except for all of Caleb's focus, Lochlan had none, distracted and dreaming through his waking hours. He didn't like jobs and chores. He didn't want any responsibility. Caleb didn't seem to want to have much fun, cutting himself short to go and study or network or research. He didn't come out much as a result and sometimes we didn't see him for months. He called those 'semesters' because he was taking college courses while still in high school and he called the rest 'hard work paying off.'

But when he was there everything was the best. I thought he was so handsome. I would sit and look at him in the dark when he didn't think I was looking at him. He was handsome in a magazine model way. The Robb Report. GQ. That kind of Cary Grant handsome.

Lochlan was handsome in a boy next door oh please kiss me kiss me now way except no one was thinking about kissing me, I was eight.

Eight is not a kissable age.  

Even twelve is jailbait age, Cole said and he laughed uneasily and asked me what I planned to do with my future because someone was going to go to jail for kissing me eventually and he wanted to know if it was going to be Caleb or Loch.

No one, silly. Besides, I already kissed Andrew so no one's in trouble.

Preschool kisses don't count, they aren't the same. 

Well I probably wouldn't kiss your brother, he's way too old for me.

Barely two years older than Loch. 

There's no...I mean, I'm not..Caleb doesn't look at me like that. 

Okay, Cole said. But that smile. He's so full of shit it's reflecting in his medium blues.

Anyway, my plan is to marry Lochlan eventually. When I'm way older and he's stopped staring at Bailey.

You should stick with more immediate plans like getting a new popsicle, Bridgie. 

Okay. I went into their house and admitted to Cole's mom that I dropped my popsicle and she fetched another for me out of the deep freeze with a smile. Having a good evening, Bridget? The boys being nice to you?

Yes, they're all super. I smile at her as I unwrap my cherry double popsicle and immediately begin to head outside, for it will end up on the ground sooner rather than later and I don't want it to happen inside. I just can't figure this out. Two sticks. Melting the whole time I'm trying to eat it.

Good. That's the main thing. She smiles back and heads down the hall as I grab the screen door handle with my sticky fingers.

When I come back outside both Lochlan and Caleb are sitting quietly on patio chairs. Caleb is emailing and Lochlan is sprawled out flat on his back watching the stars. They both look up at me at the same time and both shake their heads at the fact that I'm holding a double popsicle in one sticky hand.

Or I was, anyway, until it slid off the stick and hit the ground before I even made it back to the chair in the middle.

(I am aware that no one thinks we have any brains at all with regards to the incident the other night that brought Batman screaming back into my universe but really if you only knew certain things, for when it comes to the three of us some things aren't nearly as shocking or out of the ordinary as they might be to others and we fully acknowledge that fact.)

Deliverance within reach.

Lochlan calls while I'm driving. Caleb lent me his car because he still feels that if I'm going to drive at all, his car is safer than the truck. I'm sure I've had this conversation before with Jake when I bought that very unreliable ancient C10 but as you can plainly see when pushed I come out swinging, defiant and downright unexplainable.

The phone rings a thousand more times and I finally hold the button down and tell Siri to call Lochlan. She knows what's up. She doesn't even ask to confirm, she just dials. This is the sort of relationship I have with this phone. I mean this man.

He answers in a panic.

Bridget, you get your little arse home right now. I'm going to give you ninety minutes and so help me if you're not within reach by six o'clock I'm coming to get-

Relax, Locket. I didn't sign up for anything.

You know what? Just stay put. I'll come and get you. 

You don't have to-

Just stay there. Give me an hour to get to you. 

Loch. Stop it. I didn't go. Do you really think I would go without you? 

I wouldn't put anything past you now. You grew up and left me in the dust here and I spend my days in awe of the adult you've become. 

Right. That's why you were ready to drop everything and come save me. 

I didn't say the awe was for how smart you are.

That's better. 

Drive safe. I'll be waiting. 

Can we come back on the weekend after setup and take some rides? 

If you don't know the answer to that by now, Peanut, then I don't know what else I can teach you.

He hangs up and I tell Siri that Lochlan can teach me how not to want to run away all the time. He seems to be able to manage it and I still can't do it at all.

She tells me she doesn't understand and instead asks if she can call the Devil for me.

I laugh.

Hell yes please.

Sonny's dreams can't be real
They're just stories he's read
They're just stars in his eyes
They're just dreams in his head
And he's hungry inside for that wide world outside
And I know I can't hold him though I've tried, and
I've tried, and I've tried

Last night as I slept the Dealbreaker Fairies struck again, much as they did when Ben took a drink and started in on me, because certain things are not allowed. These are rules everyone agreed to when we decided to centralize the Collective. These rules are carved into stone. Only I don't know what happens if they are broken repeatedly. I'm sure eventually we'll find out. Ben is working at that doggedly.

They paid Caleb a visit in the night and removed the weapon. I don't know what they did with it, I didn't ask. I didn't ask which boys are the Dealbreaker Fairies, I only know that this morning power had shifted back and I worry that this is needless and ridiculous and exhausting and never changes, which is ironically what Caleb wishes for and never gets and what I can never seem to get away from. Change.

Here's some change. This morning Batman roared down the driveway in his fancy sportscar and made no attempt at mystery or surprise. He simply slammed his way into the Boathouse and then he left just as quickly and I was thinking too little too late as he glanced my way as he turned around the fountain loop and then looked back at me, satisfied that no, the Devil didn't shoot me in the face over the weekend, I'm still living, breathing, waiting for Ben with one part of my heart while I saw the other remaining living piece into two with a rusted blade. Or into three. Maybe four. Five? I don't know, I was never very good at counting. I'm just grateful that they keep each other accountable, and grateful that Lochlan's pride is still flexible enough that he asks for help when he feels as if he might take things too far, because Caleb isn't the only one with self-control issues. I'm pretty sure if Loch had his way he'd be spending the afternoon digging a third grave on the property.

Whoops, did I say third? I meant FIRST.

I remember when we were gambling to win.

He had a soundtrack, the outside system churning through a playlist of new favorites. Wye Oak, Imagine Dragons and some acoustic Metric that he found that I loved instantly, to name a few. Old favorites mixed in for familiarity, too, as always. Bryan Adams. Boston. Kansas.

He had our big sketchbooks, my bag of pens and pencils and his metal tin of charcoal pieces.

He had the big picnic quilt and he laid everything out under the tree at the center of the dead orchard but it isn't dead just lazy in production and we don't have the heart to tear it all up, cut it down and change it. I love it. It's like a secret garden of a different kind and when you're under the tree at the very center you can't even see the house.

He had olives and bread and cheese and wine and chocolate too. He had sour patch kids and a small bag of cotton candy that we were sorely disappointed in. Loch had a plan to spend the day listening to music, drawing each other's portraits and drinking and singing and then I put all of that aside in favor of lying flat on my back on the blanket in the grass, pencils spilled into the bowl of olives, charcoal fingerprints around my ears and on my cheeks. I watched the clouds play tag across the sky and every now and again a dragonfly or a bee would come and land nearby and I would watch it until my eyes got so heavy I couldn't see anymore and finally I closed them completely.

I fell asleep in the sun, got burned and missed my phone call, shifted to today because Saturday was family day and apparently Ben was hoping I would be there, in spite of his very specific instructions that I not come because he seems to do better when he can't see my face and feel the feelings that go along with my expressions. They say it's rather devastating but I don't look in the mirror anymore so I don't know what they're talking about, honestly.

Repercussion roulette (Hammer home the rules).

The first click came almost immediately and I counted, in my head.

One.

He slides the barrel over my bottom lip, pulling it down, all the while frowning at me. He is all business tonight, almost disappointed that I arrived alone. If I come alone there's no need for appearances so he sheds his human form completely and then he loses control.

Say what I want to hear. He wraps his free hand around my neck, pushing me against the door. He thinks my presence is preference and won't listen to reason so I save my breath for later when I might need it more.

I shake my head and am rewarded with another click. Two. My feet leave the ground and my breath shatters in my lungs as he squeezes harder around my throat.

Eye level now and I still don't look at Caleb. Click.

That makes three.

Don't, I whisper.

What is your life worth, anyway? He whispers back gently.

More than yours. Lochlan's voice is loud and clear. He takes my hands and I don't fall when I am released and he pulls me back through the door and down the steps and home.

You don't do that. You don't go and see him if I say I don't want to see him. You don't ever do that again. 

You said you didn't want to go. 

That doesn't mean you go alone. Is that what you think I mean when I say I'm not going?

I shrug. I don't know. Stop yelling at me.

Is that what you think? Answer me, Bridgie. Right now, hon.

Yes. You're feeding me to the wolf! You don't care if I go. 

Oh I care very much and I've told you that but you don't listen until it's so late we almost run out of time. I don't know how to fix that. 

You can't. 

Sure I can. Or I can try. No more. No fucking more. You don't leave me for any reason. Got that?

You'll cave before I do. 

Don't you bet on that now. You'll lose.

Just killing time here until I get my phone call tomorrow morning. None of this is new, feel free to ignore it and go read something fun like Divergent updates. :)

I'm not close
I'm not safe
I don't know, am I better off in chains?
The one is not aware, so stay away from me
I'm just too young to care

Caleb had outdoor heaters installed around the secret garden, the space he built that I told you about here and here (I can't call it a grotto because that just makes me think of the Playboy mansion so secret garden it shall remain). They are heaters similar to the ones down on the dock but these ones come on automatically through some magical combination of temperature sensing and motion detection so I don't have to fuss with them, and they're set for my comfort which is a nice touch and as always, completely over the top.

I found out when I ventured outside with a sketchbook and headphones and a second cup of coffee very early this morning. Halfway across the lawn I decided it was too cold but figured I would check it out for a few minutes anyway. Surprisingly it was toasty-warm in minutes under the canopy of leaves and I realized there were three heaters built in to the top of the retaining wall.

Godammit. If he can control the weather now I'm doomed.

I can't control the weather, I just tried to think of everything you might need, he answers. I jump fifty feet, shrieking at him not to do that.

That's a poor reaction for someone who's been given a space such as this to call her own. I've been waiting for you to come out here for days.

I don't recall asking for this so exactly how grateful would you like me to be? I adore this part of the yard and may never touch down on the back patio again (I kid! Duncan is back there. I'll be there). But if Caleb only did it to get my thankfulness then forget it. He can bulldoze it over and the forest can reclaim it.

I want you to acknowledge that your champagne tastes rival your amusement park budget and that the rat is out of his league.

Just because I like champagne doesn't mean I'll die if I can't have it. I'm fine with water.

From the bucket outside a barn somewhere in a town you couldn't name if there was a gun to your head?

The very same (I wince at his description. How fitting that is.).

And you want to scrounge around for dinner pennies-

Nickels, now.  Pennies are being phased out.

-Dinner nickels only to go to sleep hungry because there isn't enough?

Sure. Doesn't bother me.

You looked pretty impressed last time I flew you to dinner. You seem to enjoy yourself when we engage in...extraordinary experiences that you can't find among people who don't have the means I do, Bridget.

I never said I was immune to decadence, just that I won't choose it. 

We're only on earth for a limited time. 

He pops the balloon of abstract theory. Yes. I'm aware.

Bridget, I want to spoil you. I want to give you an easy life. When we're together it isn't difficult, it's seamless and electric and comfortable. You fit beside me. You complete me. 

That's from Jerry Maguire.

You drive me fucking nuts. 

I'm sure that's from Gangster Number One. Or maybe Goodfellas.

I don't care. I just know that Ben isn't capable of looking after you when he can't look after himself and Lochlan doesn't have the means to support a family. Neither one of them can commit to a thing-

You know the best part of your pissing contest with Lochlan? He never mentions you, or Ben or money. Or what he can give me. He only talks about being so in love with me, about it being right, that it's meant to be. That we have something so amazing. All you want to do is fix a price and make your aquistion. 

That isn't true. I'm pragmatic. I focus on numbers first.

Well, that's wrong. 

That's practical. He isn't. I don't know why you say he is. I am showing you my concrete plans, concrete means. No one can live on glitter and fireworks and candy. You found that out the hard way.

There is nothing bad in Lochlan's universe. And I can't live with a gun to my head which is how you get your way, Caleb.

If I adopt his methods it will destroy you. You want me to talk about history? You want me to talk about how I fucked up and in the process I managed to not only not take you away from Loch but I lost you to my brother too? Want me to talk about lying awake nights planning pointless trips and business emergencies to bring you on to save your life? Want me to talk about lying awake nights beside you while you cried through your nightmares, telling me things I could hardly believe? Want me to talk about needing years of therapy to let go of you when you asked me to go away knowing you were staying with Cole? Want me to tell you about a loneliness so fucking deep it's destroying my heart in slow motion? I can talk about that, Bridget, but I don't think you would like it very much. 

Brought your verbal guns today, I see.

Limited time, Princess. That's all we have. A limited time.

The only reason Lochlan and I didn't survive on the road was because you changed things. That's YOUR fault, not his.

The aftermath was all his, baby. Don't pin his helplessness on me. 

You set us up! Jesus Christ, what was he supposed to do?

He was supposed to be a man! 

Oh, LIKE YOU WERE?

His mouth opened to keep going but his eyes changed from triumphant to horrified and he didn't say anything.

I want to fix things, Bridget. 

Then leave me the hell alone.

Come tonight. Bring him and we'll talk. Something has to change. He turned on his heel and went inside, leaving me alone to shiver in spite of the heat.