Oh hey then! Real estate agent shows up and I'm there in cut off shorts and a shirt that reads WHISKEY POLE ROCK AND ROLL, the words stacked up like shame, regret and invisibility-cloak-wishes.

But he laughed and declined to call attention to it, instead asking if Caleb was around. Caleb was coming down the steps of the boathouse and saw me and started to smile but then he saw my shirt and his whole face dropped like a stone. I made a mental note to thank Dalton again. I love this shirt.

He greeted the agent with a familiar handshake and offered tea in his kitchen. Then he variably dismissed me without an introduction.

So I introduced myself as his landlady slash sister in law slash submissive.

He laughed and said sister in law is correct and would I be a dear and go find Ben?

Ben's out, I tell him proudly.

PJ then. 

He's with Ben? 

We'll see you later then. 

Oh, I'm not busy. 

Bridget-

I get it. You're embarrassed. Okay, gotcha. I pull two pretend guns and shoot at him and then turn to head back to the house.

This is your family? 

My brother's wife. He died a while ago and I look after things for her. 

Oh, that explains it. 

She's a bit uneven with her moods. 

I understand. Well, you're a good man. 

HE'S THE BEST! I yell across the driveway, because fuck you too, Diabhal.

End of an era that began before I was even born.

You know when you're fussing around cleaning up the kitchen and very slowly you realize one of your husbands is trying his damnedest to keep his composure but his eyes are involuntarily turning pink and his nose red as he sniffles and clears his throat to indicate he's fine, it's probably a cold?

(What? This doesn't happen? Or you mean you only have one husband? I never know. I try to keep you in the loop and make this seem like it's all regular and everyday but it probably isn't. I don't know any other poly/communal people in real life. Committed ones, I mean. I don't know anyone who lives like we do. Maybe that means we're extraordinary or maybe it just means we're weird. I'm fine with either. Let's move along now.)

Lochlan? What's the matter?

He turns the iPad around so I can see that Pink Floyd is officially over. The band he lives and breathes by who unofficially went their separate ways years ago, and then Richard Wright died and mostly finished them off shortly before we moved out here. He still listens to them every single day, having begun long before I met him and then afterward using their music as a lullaby when I would be afraid of the dark (or the light for that matter). Fearless and Wish You Were Here in particular and oh, rats, my eyes are stinging now.

This happens with alarming regularity too. All the greats are moving along, dying or frankly getting old and wanting to do other things and sometimes gearing up thinking they can bring back the good old days only to discover it's exhausting and times have changed.

(Ben, for example. Ben keeps finding this out and he's only in his late forties. These guys are in their late sixties and seventies. Holy!)

Loch composes himself at last and wipes his eyes on his sleeves. Allergies, he mutters, and he heads outside to see to the woodpile. Fall is coming so the last of the pile from the previous year will be moved to the side of the house to make room for the next years'. And his neck and shoulders will double in size again and sue me, I really like that.

I go to the sideboard and fetch his headphones for him just as he comes back for them. I smile and he smiles back. They had a good run, they've given me a good soundtrack. 

Half beauty, half madness?

The way everything should be, love. He kisses the top of my head and out he goes.

Leave him alone.

I'm not your child
I'm not your paragon of just
I am by other means damned
Just who do you think I am?

Last night over drinks, Batman pointed out that maybe Sam was right, that the obvious solution would be to keep Duncan home and bring Sam instead. August staying away would never happen, he lives for this week out of every year (in spite of the fact that every time it ends he swears he's never going back). Duncan pointed out it's not his job to make sure everyone is comfortable with something he didn't plan but was invited to, and maybe if everyone has a problem with his presence here we should deal with it now. Chairs were scraped back across the patio as more than four of them stood up at the same time. Fighting words. Challenges laid out.

I stood up. So gracefully I knocked my chair over and everyone looked at me and I told them that this has nothing to do with their issues and that I'm taking Loch to burn on his birthday and so help me if they ruin it for us or more importantly HIM, they can go back to living in their shitty walk-up apartments and come visit here and there if I invite them.

I've never invoked the look-around-and-be-grateful-for-what-you-have-because-of-me tactic but at the same time it seems like if there's a war to be had they'll all sign up for it before they even realize what they're fighting for.  I know my reminder was far less than fair in the slightest. I was tired and fed up with the arguing and with everyone trying to either go or keep us home and it's just getting dumb now. I poured my drink on the lawn for Jake and Loch protested wasting the good stuff and I said my goodnights. I never heard a more morose and regretful chorus of goodnights back, peppered with some casual apologies that will be extended upon today, I hope. Because if you're going to say sorry, there shouldn't be anything offhand or serendipitous about it. It should be formal, deliberate and heartfelt.

Like me.

Who probably has no business going to this thing at all but I'm going to try anyway. Getting out of my comfort zone on the freak show took the same weird extension of courage. I'm not there yet but I will be soon and it would help if I had some support.

(I haven't even graced Caleb with an acknowledgment of his outright refusal to allow it. He doesn't get to choose either. This is ours and I'm not discussing it anymore with anyone, until it's time to pack.)

Break one thing and fix another.

I followed Sam right out to his car this morning, my pajamas still on, teacup in hand. He played Red and yanked the air conditioning up high and didn't say much as I sat and sipped my tea. He parked at the church and I followed him right into his office and sat down across from him and I took another sip and he laughed and asked who he should call to come and get me, because he had work to do and I was not only distracting but possibly gossip-inducing since I was obviously in pajama pants, a hello kitty t-shirt, no bra, messed up pixie hair and bare feet.

Um. Can I take your car and then come and get you later? 

Not today, Princess. 

(God. Rip my heart out with your Jacobisms, why don't you?) Okay, then PJ will probably be free to come. Or Loch. I looked out the window and when I looked back he had softened a little further.

How about this. We'll talk for thirty minutes uninterrupted and then you will be sent home so I can get on with my day, alright?

Deal.

Though we could have sorted this out at home.

You wouldn't talk at home.

I didn't realize it was a huge deal. I don't think it's a healthy place for you to be right now?

When?

Pardon?

When will it be a healthy place?

I don't know.

What if you went instead of August?

He sat back and took my teacup with him, taking a long sip, staring at me over the rim of the cup. That might not make it any better.

It's all just one big seething ball of jealousy, then, is it? Our collective.

Sometimes. I think it's inevitable, though some of the designs on you seem far more parental than romantic.

How do I sort out which are which?

You seem to be doing okay.

Yeah, until I get blindsided by a fatherly request for a one-off or something. You guys need to deal with your shit. 

A dynamic involving one woman we all adore and a dozen men is a recipe for disaster no matter how freewheeling or understanding we all are or proclaim to be. 

I daresay it doesn't extend to a dozen but thanks for making me seem like the whore-ly grail here. 

I daresay, Bridget, it extends far far beyond that and you just have no idea and oh my God the words you make up. 

My language goes well with my make-believe world, Sammy. 

Was reality so bad? 

Not until Jacob declined to remain in it. Once it blew apart there didn't seem much point in playing functional adult anymore, did there? I shrug. He's skating all over thin ice and I don't want him to break through right now.

I think you should go but with Ben and Loch and maybe someone less...volatile. 

I need a head shrinker on the run, Sam. That's a hard limit. 

Well then what about me? 

You said you weren't a good choice-

I'll bring Matt. Can we still get tickets? 

Oh, I can get you a ticket. 

You know people, right? 

No, but Batman does. And anyone he doesn't know Ben does. Or Dalton. 

See what you can do and I'll talk to Matt. Now who can I call for you? PJ? 

Loch's outside. Have a good day, Sam. 

You too, Bridge. How did you know Loch was outside?

I felt him get here. It's just a thing. 

That's a powerful thing, Bridge. 

Tell me about it. 

G-

Oh, it's not God. It's me. I do this. 

That time Sam and Caleb stood on the same side of an argument but for different reasons.

Ha. Caleb has forbidden me to go to Nevada. That's ironic considering how many times he has taken me there, albeit not to Burning Man but to Las Vegas.

In a fun twist of fate, Sam also threw his dissent into the ring where we shone a spotlight on it, wondering what the hell it was. The crowd held silent before a collective gasp heralded the confirmation that yes, Sam is jealous of August and this isn't anything we didn't already know. Same show, different town every night.

Funnily enough, Caleb doesn't have any issues with August. His issue is with Duncan and I'm not all that surprised. Duncan makes everyone nervous when it comes to me. Well, everyone except for Dalton, I guess. And Ben who really isn't picky as long as I'm happy and I'm all, Jesus, Ben. Don't say that. You'll probably regret it forever. 

Ben insists that he wouldn't but preferably he would like to watch.

Watch what? I ask innocently and he laughs and tells me he hopes we all have fun.

Me too. Even though it seems like my reputation will probably arrive before I do. Great.

Virgin burn (Black Rock Baby).

Lived for lies, lived for tales
Lived for good and hit the rails
Love you boy with what I know
Hid that love up with my bones

Found the fire in the rain
Burning drops drowned all my pain
Listen to the oceans brawl
I’ll find you and then I’ll crawl

Pierced your arrow through my heart
Wanted me, now want me gone
In your hiding you’re alone
Kept your treasures with my bones

For Lochlan's fiftieth birthday this year, I'm taking him to Burning Man.

In three weeks.

!!!!!!!

We're freaks and it's fitting that the year we can go the theme is Carnival of Mirrors. I have always wanted to go. He was always on the fence about it so I pushed him off and got tickets after Christmas and played dumb until a couple of days ago when he started making noises about maybe going to New York for his birthday this year, since it's a big one. So I had to cough up my plans before he bought plane tickets.

August and Duncan have been helping me all along. They're going too. Ben isn't sure but if he does decide he wants to go Duncan will give him his ticket. If he doesn't want to go we'll make it a friendly foursome. Or something.

*Snort*

I've spent six months openly, verbally wishing I could go just to keep up a front and it WORKED! And now my head can happily explode. He was rather stunned and then so incredibly excited about it,  that for the second time in my sweet life I've pushed HIM out of his comfort zone instead of the other way around (the first time was this whole plural marriage thing but that wasn't me, Ben talked him into it).

It's going to be amazing.

It's going to be surreal.

It's going to be really, really dirty. I'm used to dismantling, cleaning and (let's face it) burning most of August's belongings when he comes home from BM each year. Wait until it's multiplied by four.

Still in bed. Busted out a Relpax (?) sample that says if the first dose hasn't worked in two hours, take a second. That doesn't give me much confidence at all. This is why I hate triptans.

This is also why I hate being a guinea pig. And headaches. I hate headaches.

Psycho Circus.

My phone went off at five this morning.

Ben grabbed it right over my head and answered with a swear word I've never heard used in quite that way. He grunted a bunch of confirmations and then repeated a time. Then he hung up and left the phone on his bedside table. He said to stay put today. That he was going to go help Caleb out for a bit and he got up right away.

He came back and woke me up later to say goodbye and I asked him what the hell he was doing. He said Caleb needed me to do a couple hours of work early and that it was important so Ben said he would do it, calling him on his urgency. Ben used to be an insurance agent of all things. He can find his way around an office. He wasn't concerned.

I think he wants me though, I told him and Loch's arm tightened around my hips.

Then I'll wear lipstick. Where is it?

I smiled. There's seventeen or eighty of them in the drawer in the bathroom. 

Any particular color I should look for? 

Something like a blue-red? Go big or go home, Benny. 

I would love to stay here but I'll be damned if he's going to summon you this early. Time to teach him a lesson. I'll just go with full makeup. Want to help?

Oddly I want to see what you can pull off on your own. 

He came out twenty minutes later looking like the fifth member of KISS. Lochlan took one look at him and burst out laughing so loudly I'm pretty sure we woke up everyone with our howling and I lunged for my phone to take a picture, which I promptly sent to the whole group with the title of Caleb's EA for today.

I forgot Caleb was on the group chat as well and he replied Lucky me

With a sad face emoji.

Hahah.

Fucked.

Just when I think a dinner date is a death march or a life sentence or a big scary thing I should run from (I need large flashing cues) Caleb pulls out all the stops. The ones labelled charm, chivalry and Good Humanism and is sweet to me. Beyond sweet. Somewhat fatherly almost (SO CONFUSED).

He was good through dinner. He said he suspected I may be pharmaceutically enhanced and so he did not order wine or anything else, we had lemonade. And he asked me what I wanted so he could order for us. He asked for a short walk along the boardwalk after dinner and then he suggested an early night, that we both were tired and could use the rest and he released me into Loch's fiery gaze and protection at the stroke of nine o'clock.

Loch promptly poured us both a big scotch and we took them to the bathtub, Loch more riled than ever because when Caleb is nice and easy to deal with he is scarier than ever. But he wasn't scary, it's more as if he was disheartened that I was not looking forward to it and disappointed that I was afraid and so he made it as appealing as he could but cut it down to two hours/just a dinner in order to appease everyone involved.

Boy, that makes us wary. We trust few by default but it's easier if you don't play games in the first place, right?

This morning the money was in my account for Henry, With an equal amount for Ruth. He never fails to provide for both children when permitted to do so which is sweet and so I called him to thank him for being prompt and generous and kinder than usual last night.

I can be anything you need. 

Ha. Even you can't pull that off. 

Try me. 

Be Jake then. I hung up and wished I hadn't said that, because a) he probably could be and b) it's damned disloyal to Ben and Loch to feel this way all the time.

Pentobarbie Doll.

Good morning! Sense8 got renewed for a second season, Lochlan wasn't the least bit upset about sleeping alone (he didn't anyway) the night before last and Caleb's envelope was for tonight so...uh..I need a disguise and an alibi and possibly Nembutal.

(Oh and for those telling me Sense8 wasn't that great after seeing one or two episodes? Finish it. Profound and fun as fuck. And I'm NOT a Wachowski fan, truth be told.)

Caleb's request coincides with our monthly co-parent meeting in which we coordinate schedules, split costs, report on concerns and fill each other in on anything and everything concerning Henry. We make sure we're on the same page at all times, with regards to meals/friends/activities/rules/downtime and behavior.  We check in formally and nail it all down each month, every month. His idea was that we should have fun doing it. Get dressed up, have a fancy, multi-course dinner and spend the evening instead of sitting on hard stools at his kitchen counter going over dentist receipts and calendars under bright lights, a chore so far in this life.

It's hard to argue with that but in this house agreeing with the Devil about anything brands you a thief and a traitor and someone who should have her head examined. 

It has been. 

My head sits on a platter in the living room, if you're wondering. A living specimen being perpetually dissected, debated and debriefed. I won't need to bring it since it's usually busy or broken anyway. I was planning to float it in a barbiturate looking glass so that instead of having feels I could just have fun for once.

Of course it's wrong. Of course. But this week life I seem to be on a roll with doing things that way.