Home!

We're BACK.

 I've logged close to sixteen thousand miles in less than a week and I feel like I'm still moving. It was interesting for sure and I'd be happy not to see the inside of a plane any time soon. Especially commercial flights with their plastic cups and ability to run out of sandwiches before they get past the end of the tenth row. And watching some of the boys fold up like big bearded accordions to fit into the seats was almost painful. They asked me to imagine how they felt.

So yeah, maybe we'll push a little harder next time and get the jet instead.

Except that none of that matters now, because Ben came home with us. And he doesn't have to go back out. A little squeezing and he was let out of the remainder of his contract under some impracticality clause that if a job begins to threaten his sobriety then he is not obligated to continue.

Batman looked after that one, actually.

(Ben is fat again too. I don't know what he eats when he goes out of my sight but he said everything with a straight face.)

He hugged us both so hard when we saw him collectively we have multiple internal injuries and external emotions that can't be stuffed back in. We hugged him back so hard it was readily apparent that we've been holding our breath collectively for the better part of eleven long weeks and I was done doing that the minute I saw him.

You're not going back. I pleaded with him like a child. It was humiliating and yet I was still giving orders because I'm stubborn. Because I need him.

He smiled but I could see he was losing it too. I'm not, Bumblebee. I'm coming home with you and Lochlan. 

What promises did you break, Bee? His voice is low and hesitant this morning. He waits, expressionless on my screen as I sip a cup of tea PJ brought in an hour ago. It's cold.

I didn't go easy on myself. I ate sugar. I tried to cut the Devil out of my flesh but then I left him there to fester.

(I had promised to go easy on myself, eat better and not make any rash moves with regard to Caleb in Ben's absence just to keep the peace because Ben is the peacekeeper between Lochlan and Caleb. When he's around, I mean.)

None of the important ones, I tell him. He smiles because he knows when I lie.

I can't wait to see you. I have a huge surprise for you. 

What is it? I don't like surprises. 

You'll like this one. 

You promise? 

I promise. Now pack our redhead and come meet me. 

Voices in my head.

This is one of those exceedingly anticipatory, stressful times when you get excited about an adventure but are also terrified of the process. I have a lot of thrill inside bubbling up but it keeps getting quashed by the scary parts. The public. Delays. Bomb threats? Issues. Driving. Waiting. Air sickness. Fear of takeoff. Over or underpacking. Worrying about my little dog, off to a new kennel tomorrow where they seem nice but could be monstrous, even though we went to visit and all was well.

Mostly overpacking. I'm the queen of not touching half my stuff on trips. And hating all the clothes I own all the time.

I am excited to get away from this heat and to feel actual rain again. I hope there is some.

I want to see Ben so badly I've bitten my nails to the quick to feel something other than the ache of missing him. But I'm scared of trying to reconnect with Ben in a familiar but unfamiliar landscape. Trying to connect the three of us into some semblance of what we were before. I thought Lochlan and I were headed down a new road,  one at the end of which I would invoke all of Ben's paperwork and he would resort to being a warm but mostly absent friend again. We never got there and maybe that's for a reason but I'm glad to be headed to see Ben. It's the halfway point in his absence. It's the defining knife-edge of this relationship, sharpened to a point and ready to draw blood. Maybe things will be familiar and maybe they'll be different. We don't know until we try.

The part I'm having problems with is leaving him again. Weeks are long. He makes me laugh like no one else. His newly-learned affection is solid gold. His sweetness unmatched. There's a glaring absence, a huge Ben-sized hole where I wish he was but when I go he isn't there. When I call him we fight. When he messages me we get our signals crossed and we misinterpret one another and argue just a little more. I don't do well apart from him. Maybe I should take it as a sign and yet when he left I thought the perceived implication of being abandoned again would kill me. It didn't. I juggled Loch and Caleb as best I could and I didn't slip any further down the hole I dug.

I did it? Maybe I did. I did something. I'm getting through it. I'm trying.

I've worked very hard with August and with Sam and even with Joel to do all the right, healthy things to bring myself to a place where I feel comfortable standing up for myself.

Ben always says he isn't here to fix me. He didn't leave to break me and he's not interested in being any sort of human crutch. That he wants to support me in doing it all on my own and that maybe him going away is a catalyst for me doing something constructive for once when it's so very easy spending time with whomever wants to spend time with me. That I am enabled, coddled and cut off at the knees when it comes to constructive efforts to shore up my well-being. That his presence only makes me delay the hard work for the fun.

All I have done is hard work since he's gone. I didn't necessarily keep all my promises but I didn't fling myself off the cliff either.

So maybe he'll be surprised.

Longevitude and the art of making everyone happy by making sure no one is, truly.

Now if you're gonna play your games with me
Like the leaf in the top of a tree
You better watch your step when you're coming back down
From the city on out to the sea
And if your brothers come after me
With their horses so wild and so free
I'll be waiting at the gate in a terrible state
With the man who holds the key
And he'll treat you quite carelessly
For he knows my face from a previous place
From a country in a foreign land
Throwing dice in a game of chance on the sand
But I lost my cool and fate loves a fool
Now I'm standing on the edge of the pack
In my spacesuit hoping that this women will call me at last
Cuz' I'm an astronaut on the shores of this grand illusion
and I'm falling down at the sound of this beating heart

Today we're lying by the pool not moving a muscle except to drink lemonade. Blitzen Trapper is on the stereo and the Devil and the Freak are actually getting along. The Freak only wants for peace of mind for my brain and he doesn't care that he can't afford the cost and neither can I. We get by on our glaringly insufficient charm. Some things never change.

The Devil? He only wants me.

***

Sophie was gone by ten or so on Wednesday night, in case it matters and Caleb accepted my apology and offered his own in return because we can be so awful to each other sometimes. I'm pretty sure we use each other to punish ourselves for the sins of our collective pasts. I doubt we'll ever have any sort of functional, healthy relationship with each other but he pretty much sealed that deal when I was twelve and I've gone out of my way to enforce it ever since.

Sugar Daddies are complicated. I restructured my ban slightly as a break until further notice. Oh, don't. I know. 

He's happy. For that I apologize to no one but if you have to know, yes, I'm horribly jealous of Sophie's height/poise/ease of life. Granted she has had a much different upbringing than I, as she wasn't held down in a trailer park at such a young age and completely destroyed nor did Jake ever walk out on her. She left him and I know exactly what I am but I own up to it and I can sleep at night, if there were any sleep to be had. Lochlan seems to be fine without it and brings me along with him through the darker hours now. I never functioned very well without at least four or five hours a night but what's a girl to do?

(I apologized to August too, for the record. He's trying his best and I'm more than just a job to him and he's more than just another shrink to me.)

***

Yesterday we bought some plane tickets. We bought a lot of plane tickets to fly commercial and so it's imperative that everyone gets along for the next few weeks, at least as we're all going to be in a different place together and these trips have zero latitude for fistfights or hurt feelings or alpha posturing. It's one of those rare times everyone has time off at once so we're going to capitalize on it and get out of town for a bit.

We're meeting Ben at our destination. He has a little break coming up. It's like the stars are aligning. 

Literally.

So if you're gonna play your games with me
Better use some real trickery
Better get smart cuz that lock on your heart
It ain't as heavy as it used to be
In the land with no gravity

Pop-up ex-wife (kill me, please).

I would have apologized to Caleb but then Sophie arrived and August promptly swooped over and distracted me. I didn't know she had already called ahead to tell Caleb she was coming. They don't tell me these things, they let it flash into me and watch it sting.

I was already drunk and so I asked her if she was here for the annual sugar daddy fishing derby. That she could catch a nice one and that I heard that there was one swimming around nearby. Then I laughed and August grabbed my hand and tried to drag me back to the house. Too late though.

August. You look well. 

You too, Soph.

How is life treating you?

Life is good. I have no complaints.

What do you do these days?

Private counseling. 

A lot of clients?

Just one but it's a personal position. Lucrative but I'm here because it's rewarding.

I snort with laughter and cover my face. She stands there towering over me looking poised,

August is my resource. He looks after me now. formally and informally. 

I'm glad to see you're in good hands. She smiles warmly at me. I want to smack her but I probably can't reach.

Just then Caleb comes out and pales slightly because..well, because I'M there.

Sophie.

Caleb. 

Glad you could stop by. I have a light supper ready for us if you'd like to come in. 

I would love to. I'm just finishing catching up with Bridget. 

He nods at me and I mouth a good curse or seven at him. August squeezes my hand and makes our excuses. Time to go in. Bridget and I have a record-listening date. 

How lovely. Take care, both of you. 

You too. 

He crushes my hand and drags me away. I'm still imitating her as we arrive on the front porch.

How much have you had?

Enough to have no censor but not enough to barf on anyone's shoes, sadly.

Sorry you had to see her.

Sorry she shows up on my property and flashes her perfection at everything with a cock? Mmmm. Right. I just feel haphazard and chaotic now. And really really drunk.

She's jealous of you, Bridge. 

AHAHAHAHAHA. Of what exactly? That I can fit inside my own handbag? Woo. Yup. Envy me, world. 

That you're loved by many. 

And I drive the rest to die. 

Bridget-

If you're recompensed to make me feel better you best get at it, because the clock is ticking. Are you paid by the hour or the session? The week maybe?

I resorted to a text message apology to Caleb once the alcohol wore off. He never did reply.

Going to go apologize for being a bitch. 

wish me luck~

Same camper, different park.

(Look, if he's going to mean, I'm going to have to match him. Otherwise he'll just eat us alive.)

I tried on a maxi-skirt today at the mall. Were it not for the meter or so of extra fabric underneath my feet, pooling on the floor it was perfect. I look good with a train, do I not? 

Sigh. 

I bought a pair of flats, three t-shirts and two dresses instead. The Gap is always fairly kind to me and Lochlan approves, saying I look like 'myself'. Whatever that means. Basic? Casual? Short? 

Average, I think he means, as he had zero use for my outfit this morning as I prepared for a meeting in which I learned Caleb left himself as cosigner on everything and I mean EVERYTHING. I got all dressed up in a summer silk dress and killer heels and lipstick and ducked behind my baby-lawyers to hide while they crafted sternly-worded suggestions in a letter to Caleb that will be delivered tomorrow. 

Happy Canada Day? 

Right. 

Caleb was in the driveway when I got home, pulling on his best Jeffrey Dean Morgan look, pretending he just 'happened' to be out there when I returned in Sam's Soul. 

(Woah. That sounds odd. It's Sam's Kia Soul. It's like a mini SUV. I love it and he lets me drive it when he borrow's Ben's truck for big jobs. But can you imagine if I could test drive Sam's actual soul? Give me one chance and I'll play God sooner than you can finish asking me if I want to. Second on the to-do list as the Lord would be to resurrect his son. No, the other one. Jacob. Jesus and Jacob, the righteous fucking twins, back from the dead with all y'all souls.)

Neamhchiontach. 

Diabhal. I nod. 

Happy Canada Day. I'm taking the kids for a beach picnic for lunch. Would you like to join us? 

Not today, thank you. I need to go change and then check in with Daniel. We have a call with Ben in thirty minutes. 

Ah. How is he? 

Daniel or Ben? 

Both. 

Daniel is doing well but he's uncomfortable. The cast might come off next week. Ben is Ben. 

Ben is Ben. Would you like me to talk to him?

And say what?

That you're hurting and that Lochlan is taking everything Ben worked to build and that maybe it's time to come home. 

Ben knows what time it is.

You're so proud and so stubborn sometimes. 

I can't do anything about this-

Sure you could. Organize a disaster. Orchestrate a meltdown. Cry just hard enough and Ben liquefies and comes running but you won't. Instead you're the walking wounded, lashing out at the rest of us, punishing me, punishing Ben and throwing yourself at the mercy of the logical freak instead of doing what you're expected to do. It isn't self-improvement or progress, it's just a new spin on an old record, Bridget. You're not getting anywhere, you're worse than ever. 

Your confidence in me really is astounding. 

I would protect you. 

From what?

Yourself. 

No one can do that. 

Ben could. But you threw him away in order to put all of your newfound trust in someone proven time and time again to be woefully unprepared to manage the scope of your emotions, from the comfort of his grungy little RV, no less.

We'll learn how to do it together. 

You two have learned nothing as the years go by. Absolutely nothing. 

We learned what's important. And what isn't. 

And what isn't important to you both now, that was before?

You. 

A doughnut with the sin removed.

Loaded smile
Light the way for those you left behind
Set the earth on fire
‘Cause I don’t want enough
I want it all

Love left me hollow
I’m with you in the end
Cold, crippled, and shallow
Don’t leave me here again
I can’t go on
You are bound to break me in
I come undone
Don’t you drag me down again

Lochlan doesn't want to be described as or have anyone interpret my loyalty to him as submission. He doesn't play those games. We've tried. It doesn't work. It's sort of like when I wear high heels and nail polish I look like a little girl playing dress up. Same with us with regards to sex games. It isn't natural for us and so we don't. He isn't wired like other people. I mean, don't get me wrong. He has a stupidly hungry teenage-boy appetite for me but he's not going to tie me up and expect compliance or invoke any sort of role-playing.

He is different.

Actually right now he is tired and worn, with bags under his eyes and the unnatural thinness that he wears by now most summers when his hair lightens to blonde and he embraces the sun, working in the heat, forgetting to stop for meals or even breaks for that matter. Each fall and winter he packs on twenty pounds and then it melts off every summer. Like insurance for the hard season ahead.

The work is still voluntary. Word of mouth is spreading and he's refurbished more campers this spring  than the last two years combined. The work is honest, the money is good and the location is a-okay, he says, fulfilling his hard-set criteria for most jobs.

He works in the sun all day and makes a hundred trips a week to the hardware supply store and then I think sometimes he stays up all night watching me sleep so I don't get taken in the night by demons or allies alike.

Not an easy life, by far and I'd like to change that and that's one of the biggest reasons for why I cut Caleb loose even though if you ask him we're 'on a break' or 'working things out'.

We aren't. I'm through. He can accept it or die in denial, I don't really care.

What I do care about is my redhead right here and he needs kindness and rest and a bit more of a break than he's had thus far and I'll be the one to see that he gets it.

***

Can you run and get my payout, Bridgie? 

Where is it?

The Winnebago on the south side of the lot. You can't miss it.

Okay! 

I came back fifteen minutes later, overheated and almost in tears from frustration.

What's the matter? 

I couldn't find the booth where you win a bagel! You said I couldn't miss it but I must of! 

His face. The smile was suffocating his amusement and I knew he was trying not to laugh at me. No, it's a Winn-e-bag-o. It's a big brand of RV. 

Oooooh. 

Want to try again?

Yes! I'm glad it's just a camper. I didn't want to have to try to win any of those games. They're all fixed anyway, like you showed me. I thought you were crazy!

Overtalking, the classic distraction.

A new pastel pink bikini was delivered to me this morning unannounced. Caleb had it sent from a store where I once admired their things and then came to my senses because swimsuits, in my universe, don't cost $1100. I promptly got what I needed at Wal-Mart with the dark green number for a cool $17.99. 

He says that's why it doesn't last. I pointed out they don't last because sand/concrete/wood is snaggy and the bum fabric gets grabbed and pulled so easily and sorry, but I'm not one of those Ibiza ladies in her high heels, full makeup and jewelry dancing on a yacht in my bikini and never sitting down. I'm a kid. I skid off the dock on my arse. I sit on the beach. I sit with my feet in the pool. Fuck Ibiza. Fuck yachts. Swimsuits are for swimming. Those people are wearing glorified lingerie. 

I went over and asked him to send it back. Just lie and say it didn't fit or was redundant, that I can't take gifts from him anymore and that thank you but I plan on picking up a new suit this weekend. Probably at Wal-Mart. 

He cringes. (Wow. Nice. It's horrible if it isn't Dior? What the fuck, Caleb. You weren't raised like this so fuck off with the snobbery, I'm thinking but he's busy steamrolling ahead.)

My parental support includes household needs. You're part of the household and have a need for a new suit. Enjoy it, Bridget. With my compliments. 

ARGHHH.

Is that 'thank you' in Carnyspeak? 

No. 

Bridget, the money I have given you is yours without conditions but I still have more than you so if I want to treat you then I should be able to pick up the occasional item that you require without it turning into world war three. 

 I fired you. 

No, what you asked for was a break. 

Wow, I love revisionist history. I asked for a permanent bre-

A physical moratorium, and as you can see, I've chosen to decline. I'm hoping this phase of yours doesn't last long. In the meantime please give an old man somethig nicer to look at then your half-naked bearded friends around the pool. 

You're saying if I grow a beard I would be less attractive to you? 

I didn't say that. 

Oh so you're saying if I did grow one I'd be as attractive?

Bridget-

Maybe moreso?

Stop. Please. 

What if I get PJ to wear this suit and I'll wear his board shorts? His beard is so lovel-

What will you wear on top?

Nothing! He doesn't wear a shirt. Why would I? 

If you would like to skinny-dip, call me. 

I knew it. The beard turns you on. 

Christ. Will you keep the suit, Bridget?

Because beards are hawwwwwwwwwwwww-

BRIDGET. 

I'll ask Lochlan if it's okay. 

Why does he need to approve this?

Hey, I didn't say I didn't want to be submissive anymore, I said I didn't want to be a sub to YOU. 

I draped the bikini pieces over each of his shoulders and went home. 

I see red.

I wasn't sleeping, I was just lying facedown on the chaise under the umbrella. In my bikini, which is getting worn out on the bum as is always the case. It's dark green and plain and my towel matches. I have a headache. I'm about to drag myself back across the lawn to my own house to maybe try and actually sleep for an hour when I feel lips against my shoulder and a hand land on the back of my head.

Neamhchiontach. Are you awake?

I shake my head but otherwise I don't move.

Why don't you come inside for a drink and cool off?

Caleb got central air. I'm jealous. Our house is oppressive in places and I have kept the curtains closed for days now but that reminds me of the time Jake left and I didn't want to see any light at all so I can't be inside. I could spring for the central air but it's usually only two weeks worth of weather cumulatively each year so it seems like such a waste. Also I have a theory that if you never manage to tolerate anything you'll always be miserable.

On the other hand, well, here I am with headaches and nausea and extreme crankiness.

He moves his hand from my head, tracing his fingers down my spine and I shiver because that's what I do. Of course he mistakes that for interest and slides his hand down over my thigh.

I hear Loch swear (record time getting across the backyard) and I look up but Caleb doesn't move.

Loch says a whole host of lovely things to him in Gaelic and I cringe. They're going to drown each other before June is over.

I roll over onto my back and look up at Caleb with a smile. Diabhal-

He puts his hands up. It was just a suggestion. I'm trying to do things to help make you comfortable in this heat. He smiles down at me as if Lochlan isn't even there.

Except that he is and he's now beside us and he shoves Caleb right into the pool.

I'll admit, it's not nearly as frightening as when he's tackled Caleb and they've gone over the cliff. One of these days they're going to bounce off the face of it and not survive. So this is child's play. I roll back over and put my head down. I just need to lie still and then I'm not too hot.

I hear Caleb get out but Lochlan's already gone back to the house. He doesn't mind the heat. Never has, never will. And frankly I don't blame him for pushing Caleb into the pool to break whatever spell he was trying to cast over me. Caleb should know better but he can't seem to help himself and has been cornering me every chance he gets.

Did you have your phone on you?

Yes, Bridget. I always seem to.

You should leave it inside. 

I'll bear it in mind.