OOAK.

(It stands for One Of A Kind. Just like that time I spent looking at a recipe that called for EVOO and I spent hours, days even, speculating what incredible, amazing new food EVOO must be that I hadn't even heard of it only to find out they meant Extra Virgin Olive Oil. I kid you not.)

Ben is trying really hard here and I should be letting him off the hook. Sometimes he forgets we were friends before we were married. That would be dumb. He's concerned that I haven't been sleeping at all and wants to arrange for some indulgences, as if he's lost his mind and is falling back on weird lists from a magazine we probably don't read. I'm not exactly the most predictable, typical girl out there. I make no apologies for that or for what you're about to read.

Massage?

I don't want anyone I don't know touching me (snort).

Manicure?

I can do it myself for pennies. I have like eight bottles of stuff in the drawer. 

So that rules out the toes too? I forget what it's called. 

A pedicure? No one touches my feet. Including you. 

Want your hair done?

No. Loch cuts it. I'm good. 

Uh. Facial? (we both snort and blush at the same time. Jesus, Gutter and Christ, we're perverted)

I'll pass. (More laughter.) You know, for now.

Hot bath?

It's the middle of the day, Benny!

So?

Maybe later. 

Bridget, what would make you feel better? 

I laugh again and cover my mouth with both hands.

Oh, well, shit. You could have said something sooner. We've just wasted ten minutes. You know what I could do to you in ten minutes? 

I hope you'll take longer than that. 

I meant the first ten. Don't you know me at all?

I was beginning to wonder the same thing!

Oh, just shut up and take off your clothes, Slowpoke. 

Oh! Promise? I give him all the dazzling grins in the world and he laughs again.

I can't guarantee it will be slow for long. 

We both blush again. I'm almost glad we didn't know each other as teenagers. There would probably be nothing left.

Not going to end well, is it?

Better moods all around today as I walk around with my hands outstretched, collecting reassurances that no one is choosing sides, that this is all for one and one for all. When I woke up this morning Ben had his arms around both of us, locked tight. Probably so he wouldn't fall off what barely passes for a double cot in the camper. Fifty inches of springy, uncomfortable goodness and yet I sleep better out there than I do in the finest hotels in the world. I'm sure I'm allergic to double-digit thread counts, and possibly air that isn't completely fresh. Case in point, Ben left the door wide open when he joined us last night and a bear could have walked in and had me for breakfast, I wouldn't have noticed. What I did notice that his hands were holding Lochlan's and that in their sleep they love each other and in waking they're learning.

Both pretend I was imagining things when I pointed that out but no one clarified whether they meant I was imagining that they held hands or that they actually are still learning things.

I'll go with learning, because I know what I saw.

***

A truce offered by the Devil, who knows his way around these sorts of things and wins just as you figured out he's been cheating at the game all along.

Your mark is healing nicely, he tells me as if I somehow injured myself.

I don't say anything.

We're on a loop here, Neamhchiontach. 

Still nothing. But I shrug because sure. I guess we are.

What do I have to do to get through to you? To get your attention and a little bit of your time without forcing you into situations that leave everyone with a bitter taste? 

(Oh, I have a flavor now. Who knew?)

Tell the truth. But not just when you want something. All the time. Anything I should know that I don't? I want it all laid out. Put all your cards on the table and stop holding things back and plotting and scheming and planning. Just tell the goddamned truth, Diabhal. For once in your life. I mean, for a man who's done as well as you have I don't know how you can sleep at night for all the lies you live. 

I don't sleep. I wait for you. 

See what I mean? 

You want truth from now on. 

Jesus, yes. It's not so hard. Look at how well things turned out when I told Ben I wasn't going to give up my friends with benefits. I flash him the biggest smile I've ever made and he breaks into hard laughter but then he swallows it so fast I worry he'll choke.

Okay. But you'll regret it. 

When do we start?

Have dinner with me tonight?

No, because I'll be killed. How about lunch tomorrow on the patio?

Just us?

Well, I don't know. Ruth will probably eat before she goes out and Ben will be hungry. So I doubt it. 

Then it will have to wait. 

Why?

He smiles at me but it's pained. I told you before. I'm not a good person and in order to fix you I'm going to end up breaking you more. 

His choice of words throws me because they're words I would say, not him.

I can take it. 

That's what scares me. You can but you shouldn't have to. 

Try me anyway. 

I'm actually going to think about this. Not sure at this point that any truth I could provide would be worth the damage it does.  Get back to me in the morning. 

Dismissed, I guess. My head starts to hurt, badly. I didn't think that would be so easy and now I'm wondering if he's right. If it's not going to change or fix anything, is there any point to being truthful?

I decide that yes, there is, because the truth is always better than telling a lie to the people you supposedly love. Because if you have nothing else in your miserable life, at least have a little integrity.

Perks include a chemical toilet, wardriven wifi and a free angry redhead.

An hour after biting her and he's off the hook? This is rich. 

Loch got up and left the dinner table. He has a point. Caleb has managed to turn the tables and take the focus off his own mistakes, shining a light on Lochlan who can't catch a break even though he's chased them all his life, and I'm left in tears beside an empty place at the table, with my appetite lost in the woods and no amount of consolation to fix this suddenly. It's just one more thing blowing up in my face. Drama after drama after issue after death and I don't want this. I want peace and harmony and camaraderie and happiness here. This whole point was designed as a safe place but the only actual safe place is the camper in the driveway. Okay, it's the only place that feels like me, feels like us.

Damage control will need to start now. If you think for one second I'll allow anyone to make him feel like he's an outsider for a single second more of his life then you don't know me at all.

I left the table too. You should all take a cue from Ben and see that Lochlan wants for nothing but my happiness. Not yours, not his own, MINE. It's a first here and I think some apologies are warranted. You know where we'll be when you're ready.

Ours alone.

I'll say it then.

I'm so incredibly excited for the FIFTY SHADES trailer coming this Thursday I squealed when Christian (the irony) showed me the teaser on the Beyonce twitter. I don't know what a Beyonce (?) is but damn. Okay, I know vaguely who she is. But FIFTY. I'm so excited and I'm not ashamed in the least.

The books were fucking amazing. Awkward sex descriptions but perfect character development. Judge me, I care not. Or better yet, try to write about sex and see how well YOU do.

I'll wait right here for your submissions.

***

Speaking of submission (HA), Caleb tried to nail Lochlan to the wall this morning for his possessiveness, after I wrote about how he tried to keep Ben from touching me when we're asleep. I thought it was very sweet  of Loch to show how he felt without fear of retribution (and here it comes anyway). Apparently I'm fucked in the head when it comes to normal relationships and don't know any better but that isn't right and Lochlan can't make rules like that.

Oh, okay.

Says Satan, oh he of normal relationships of which he hasn't had a single one ever.

Ben still thinks the whole thing is funny/sad and continues to coddle Lochlan to pieces.

Sadly the rest of the boys backed Caleb up, saying Loch was becoming a little bit difficult with this and maybe he needed help. Maybe he needs time, I plead but they just insist that I have no idea what normal is.

GOOD! I yell. If it's not loving someone so hard people become alarmed than I don't want to know what normal is! 

Polyawkwardness (shhhh).

(I don't want to talk about yesterday, the two things actually cancel each other out, and my heart isn't in either, frankly so whatever. Call it filler, it makes no difference to me, I'd rather just keep steamrolling forward in the way that I do. It's neither interesting nor relevant but I was having a rough day so I wrote about other things instead of death. Instead of the things death brings to life that it has no right to.

I do that a lot.)

Ben continues to teach Loch how to share, how to not get up and leave, that sometimes there don't have to be such things as turns, and how, like with children, love isn't cut in half, it's simply doubled, magnified. Lochlan remains hesitant, reluctant, possessive in the same way he always was right through until Jake arrived and pretty much cut him out of the picture.

That was a mistake. Oh God, such a mistake. Jake saw Loch's possessiveness and trumped it whole and tried to bend something that broke and look at the mess we made.

But Ben is determined to do the opposite of everyone else and he welcomes Lochlan with his fears and his outward wariness of everything and everyone. Ben understands and steers Loch's attempts at control and he gives up so easily, letting Lochlan get away with things he has no right to ask for.

I hold her when she's sleeping. Not you. 

(Taking orders in your sleep. Try that one on for size.)

I actually don't fully understand why Ben puts up with Loch's bullshit half the time except that Ben is trying to do unto others. He's trying to understand Loch's own pain when everyone treats Loch like the glory boy, the one who has it all and doesn't have to work for anything, it's just given to him. The proverbial charmed life. This versus Ben who has lost it all four times over and is hanging by a thread and he's the one teaching patience and generosity? He's the only one who seems to understand that Lochlan's pain is different but that doesn't mean it's lesser.

I try to make up the difference in affection for Ben and he practically pushes me away and tells me Loch needs me more, or he asks me where he is, tells me to find him, suggests I go share all this cuddly stuff with him too. 

I fight with both of them about this. I demand that Lochlan open his mind and that Ben not let Lochlan walk all over him and they both laugh and tell me not to worry. It's maddening, frustrating to be bounced back and forth.

It seems like it should be so easy but between the greed, the guilt and the selfishness I'm never sure if it would have been easier to cut myself with my losses and bleed openly but do completely good by one instead of good enough by all.

Except that I tried that once and he didn't survive it.

Museum quality.

Two phone calls today before I even got out of bed, during both of which Ben molested me unrelentingly and I had to fight to not burst out laughing when asked if I was okay.

The first was a cancellation for a shoot planned for October for a new album cover for Ben's friend of a friend of a friend. So, not the usual guys, but some of their friends, also in a band. Up and comers overseas. Took a look through the portfolio (AKA a Youtube playlist Ben sent up of the videos and an Amazon wishlist of albums LOL) and booked me but have since decided I am too old for what they're looking for.

Too old.

OLD.

Ben's friends said not to be alarmed, that their vision was more around me twenty years ago when I first did a video for Corey and I was in my early twenties. Please don't take it personally, Bridget. 

I'm not. It's fine. I'm not, really.

Okay but I am. They sent flowers and champagne to the house an hour later to apologize for keeping me booked so long and then hosing. Dammit, champagne. I wonder if they'll let me bring it to the nursing home. I'm checking myself in this afternoon.

The second call was from Batman, who was speaking with Caleb and heard about the incredible knack I seem to have with charming men out of their money.

Ha.

Lemme just-

No, nevermind.

Caleb likes to do business over dinner and usually brings me with him so he can pretend he is successful. I am to behave. Vegas rules, as such. Only I seem to really appeal to his clients and they wind up offering so much money he is now in a unique and wonderful place where he has more capital than projects to invest in. Batman would like to turn the tables and see if I can't work my magic in reverse and find the companies that need seed investors. Have our pick, he says.

I wasn't aware my two titans were working together. 

We're not. I know of some companies that need investors. 

Bullshit, they're your companies if I'm a dollar over Thursday, I told him and hung up. I'm not going to be the bait in some new power struggle between them. I would like Batman to stay out of my head. Besides. I only charm the old men as a sport. I was as surprised as anyone else when they voiced their respect for my acumen.

Oh, I'm not arm candy, boys.

Maybe I was twenty years ago.

(Someone please bring up that champagne. Glass? No, I don't need a glass. Come downstairs? No, thanks, I'm staying in bed all day today. Why? Lost my youth. Could you look under the bed for me please? Maybe I dropped it last night after those two double cocktails.)

My first ever pound of chicken wings all to myself?

DECIMATED.

Also VERY VERY DRUNK RIGHT NOW.

Hahahah oops.

Advantage Pyro.

For Henry's birthday, Lochlan built him a telescope out of copper, glass and wood. He built a platform for it out on the end of the wall for viewing and pretty much put everyone to shame, including Caleb. And then Henry felt very bad about referencing Lochlan's legendary self-imposed poverty but Lochlan explained to him that most of the parts were foraged, and he actually started it two years ago, thinking it would be a fitting present for a young man, now in his teens.

I thought he was practice-welding on an old bike frame that's been under a tarp in the corner of the garage of the other house all this time.

He's really good at this quiet oneupmanship. Freakishly good, naturally, freak that he is. He's going to teach Henry some astronomy because Caleb says it's a foolish science so it's all the more important now that Henry understand just how big that sky really is. It's rare I see a speechless room full of boys over something good but I'll take it anyway.

***

Five in the morning and I am turned by the elbows back into Loch's arms. He is awake, against all odds and couldn't find me in his dreams so he found me in life. He pulls me back into the dream with him and I go willingly, carefully so as not to disturb anything. Lochlan's thoughts are colorful, all muted sunshine and sticky sugar high excitement. In his dreams I ride a Ferris wheel that actually touches the moon and a roller coaster that loops around the world. The swing flings me through the clouds and I reach down into one, scooping up a handful of gritty blue cotton candy just in time to be caught gently in a teacup as it spins around a post, bolted to a saucer made of July.

When I wake up next it's eight and he asks me if I liked the trip. I nod and say I'm going to make coffee and he can tell me how he does it and he shakes his head and tells me he'll take the coffee but not spill the secrets that keep us bound together so tightly, that magic, once explained, loses everything.

Bear sighting #6.

This one was waiting for me on the sidewalk as I approached the lower road to get to the driveway, dog on the leash, sun long set. I clapped my hands and yelled for it to go home as I followed it to my house and it disappeared into the woods just in front of our property while I went flying through the gate and down the hill, looking behind me the whole way.

I wonder if it's found the electric fence yet (switched off but still installed until we figure out what to do with it) and I sent the Devil a photo of it telling him all the fences he can commission aren't going to keep me safe in this world and he's fighting a battle he lost when he became the first predator.

The bears are less scary. They don't play games. They're just hungry.

(Yesterday is nothing more than random drive-by doubt, okay?)

Henry's birthday was incredibly successful, with two out of three parties down and only one marginally hyperactive guest that we had to gently remind not to jump on furniture or torment the dog.

I tried to wear my hearing aids all day so I could pretend I was like everyone else and stressed myself into a corner with the noise and now my nerves are shot and they'll die a slow death in amongst the rest of me, drowned by anxiety. The coroner will come and remark that I must have died of a broken heart before realizing my lungs were full of fear, I was shot by a dozen arrows aimed by a cupid with evil intent and that self-destruction was blissful, not as painful as you would think and most likely wholly unnecessary, same as always. My brain will weigh nothing, for it's empty save for some crumpled up wrappers from the midway and one lone marble rolling back and forth that will fall out of my eye socket when they remove those and give them to someone in need.

(Surprise! Your eyes change color with your emotions, now, recipient! Like a psychotic Blythe doll.)

I would be up for a nerve transplant to fix my ears but I think things would be more fun if they just rewired my whole brain so that when I thought about popcorn I would see the color blue or when it rained I would automatically draw a flower. That would be great. Then I would have excuses for days like these.

I could say, Blame the nerves! I felt hot so I heard a song which made me do jumping jacks. Only they messed up and it put me on a perpetual loop and quick! Show me some popcorn so I can cool off already with the blue and then hopefully it will rain because it's hard to hold a pencil when you're jumping.