Whole conversations right in the middle of fucking each other. I shit you not.

(I'm never sure if I love it or hate it, truth be told but it's certainly different. Like he is. Okay, well now it makes sense when put that way.)

Come on down to the Mermaid Café and I will
Buy you a bottle of wine
And we'll laugh and toast to nothing and smash our empty glasses down
Let's have a round for these freaks and these soldiers
A round for these friends of mine
Let's have another round for the bright red devil
Who keeps me in this tourist town

I wake up falling or drowning, I'm not sure which as my arms flail through the dark looking for something to hold. They find what they're looking for and I open my eyes but he doesn't.

You got away from me in your sleep, Fidget. I won't let that happen again.

I reach up and stretch out a long red curl, tucking it behind his ear. He frowns, pushing my hand away. What're you doing?

Admiring my prize.

Thought that was my job. Still with eyes closed, he leans forward, kissing my shoulder, rolling his weight onto me.

Here for your admiration. I surrender to him, letting him pin my hands above my head, arching my back to share his heat, coming away with a kiss and a smile as he finally opens his eyes but they're already awake and smiling.

When are we going to talk about it?

Never and keep this perfect day. 

Peanut, it's an albatross.

Everything is. Leave this day, please. 

Tomorrow. 

Maybe something will change and we won't have to.

You sound like you dread this. 

I don't, I just don't want to close doors. You always told me to be damned sure before I closed a door or burned a bridge. 

I burned you every night once.

An illusion. 

Same result. 

Not hardly. 

Have you made any decisions aside from what we talked about? 

No surprises, Loch.

Oh, yeah? That's good. Maybe my hair will stay red a bit longer instead of turning white.

I'm not the cause of your stress. 

Tell me more stories. I have all day. 

Yes! I'll tell you the one about the little girl and the sugar tornado. 

I wish you'd share that stuff instead of stupid moments when I was fifteen and so clever I pissed in the lake and you believed that I could warm it on command. 

Maybe I will. 

Eventually you'll be sharing photographs of my junk, I bet. 

No. I have a classy blog. 

It isn't. It's porn and angst and nothing in between. 

Just like me.

Yeah, just like you. 

No swimming today, it's six fucking degrees.

One of the most satisfying parts of raising children is in teaching them that their actions will always have consquences, i.e. a hug will help to comfort someone, or if you put a hole in a wall, you're going to fix it yourself, even if involves a lot of dust and a day week of work lost somewhere else.

It was incredibly satisfying to teach Batman and Caleb how to hang drywall, how to tape, mud and primer it properly so that it blends in seamlessly to the rest. Since the hole they made was too big to patch. Sigh.

How do you know how to do this, Bridge? Batman always seems so surprised when I exhibit actual, useful skills, outside of playing sugar baby or giving blowjobs or something. Caleb damn well knows I can do this. He kept flying in to check on the progress of the castle I sold in 2010 since Jake had torn apart several rooms that remained unfinished when he flew. I finished it all alone. I had never drywalled a fucking thing in my life before then.

(I actually do give a mean blowjob too. Though no one..would...call it......mean....exactly...)

ANYWAY. The two titans get to spend a few days working together. I get my wall back. Life will continue on. Just now with drywall dust everywhere. I may go live next door for the duration, except that they need constant supervision from the bickering and PJ refuses to referee.

(What they don't know is it won't be a patch paint job either. Once the wall is fixed they're going to paint the entire foyer a new color because I have decided there is too much white in this house, so it's going to be a pretty pale green, then I can keep a huge vase of white flowers on the table with the lanterns and the driftwood and it will be really pretty without being so stark.

They should be done by the end of the week if they work hard.

And hopefully they've learned something, like the others. If you've got a bone to pick, take it OUTSIDE.

Like I need any reminders about how well the Leafs are doing.

I stared at the monitor on the wall for a good ten minutes before he pushed the button again.

Bridget? Are you still there?

Yes.

Can you open the gate, please? Joel is sitting in his car at the end of my driveway and I don't feel like letting him in. Come on. We can watch the demise of the Canadian side of the NHL. 

None of our teams are going to make it to the playoffs. No bets have been made. But still I can't bring myself to buzz the gate open.

Today isn't a really good day for a visit, Joel. 

Duncan said it was. I turn and shoot laser beams from my eyes at Duncan who smiles lazily from the kitchen door because he follows me everywhere sometimes. Especially on days after Caleb seemingly does everything right. He takes guarding my body far too literally and I should know better but I don't. I know nothing but Duncan knows even less this morning.

He might not have all the information one needs to make that determination. I tell Joel and I can see as he rolls his eyes.

Bridget, I'll just jump the gate. 

You'll get shot by the turret guns.

Jesus Christ. You have guns now?

Jump the gate and find out.

Put Duncan on the speaker, please.

He isn't here right now.

Bullshit. He's behind you.

Duncan laughs and reaches over my head and in front of my face to hit the button that opens the gate. Let him in, Poem. He's a good antidote for Caleb's poison. 

He probably just heard about the bikini and wants to see it. That isn't going to happen.

I'll just show him the photos.

You took pictures of me?

I'm not a monk, Bridge.

You might be after today.

The Devil and the pink bikini.

The really stupidly expensive one that Caleb bought for me last year that I told him to return? He didn't and I tried it on this morning and decided I would go and check out the pool, which we had checked and filled the moment the roofers left and I figured it might be finally warm.

It was so why not? It's April third in Lotus land which is totally pool weather, even though the rest of the continent is still having winter. We've got the seeds out for the garden. We're in shorts.

Except for me. I'm in that pink bikini.

Which is nice. It fits well. It isn't see-through when wet (I showered in it to check) and it doesn't gap at the back above my tiny little behind like everything else I own (even the cashmere underpants). It just fits. And it's beautiful, a ballet-pink that somehow enhances my paleness and endless ability to blush and yet also makes it striking.

Hey, freckle-face. He is already in the water when I walk down, a stack of towels in my arms for the tiny poolhouse (a glorified shed they put in next to the new sauna, which holds a whopping eight of us) a light kimono wrapped around me, tied with a pale pink ribbon that matches the swimsuit perfectly.

Hey, yourself. How is the water?

Come in and find out. He smiles, gliding away from the edge into the deep end.

I take off the kimono and do a curtsy. It fits.

I knew it would. I had it made for you.

How do you know my sizes so perfectly every time?

From decades of touching you.

Oh.

Oh is right. Come in while you can. It's supposed to rain this week.

I walk down the steps into the warm water. Goosebumps announce my presence. His eyes mark my path. I walk until I am a third of the way across the pool and that's where my feet leave the bottom and I need to swim. I turn and go back to where it laps against my shoulders and he frowns.

Swim to me? It's warmer over here.

Did you pee?

Pardon me?

Lochlan used to pee in the lake to warm me up when I'd be cold. He told me it was magic. It was years before I realized he was peeing around me.

That's disgusting. And also genius.

I know, right?

I have a different idea to warm you. I reach him and he puts his arms around me, pulling me close. I put my arms around his neck and hold on so I don't have to try and stay above water.

Better?

Yes. But it isn't better, it's worse.

What makes it worse? (stop reading my mind.)

It's you.

I'm not so bad, Bridget

You're not so good, either.

Time won't let go/Sorry/Not sorry.

Would you have come to work for me if he hadn't had reservations?

Reservations? Such a mild word. I have come to get a cheque from Batman for the damage caused. Caleb already covered the other half. They made a new door from the front hall to the library. Avengers assemble.

Sorrow will find you
Its voice has given way to mine
Heart pumps death into our heredity
Who wants to come with me

Bridget- I have failed to pay him attention.

Sorry. I have to try and keep this straight.

You can do whatever you want. Does he threaten you?

When?

Now, Bridget.

Not really. I just know my place.

I don't think you do or you would be with him. You're not.

There are issues.

Is he fixing them? Is he the end game?

No. He's not because he can't fix what he broke.

What did he break, Bridget?

Me. Her.

Jesus. You can't hold this together.

I'm fine. It's probably for the best.

Who's best. His? I'll do more than put him through a wall.

Don't touch him. I didn't ask you for help.

No. You didn't. Others have.

Others being Cole? Have you noticed he's been dead for almost ten years?

Oh. Wait.

When did that happen?

I made a hasty goodbye and walked up around the front of Batman's house, walking along the road, turning off far past my driveway to the locked gate by the orchard. I use my key, I always have my keys in my pocket, and I come in, following the wall along the cliff until I run out of cliff and have to cross the driveway. I use my key again and let myself into the boathouse. He is surprised but not surprised as I put my keys on the counter and ask the Devil if he knows how long it's been.

Since my only brother died? Yes, I know. It will be a decade soon and I'm not prepared for that kind of milestone. 

Teach me to survive it? 

I'll do my best, Neamhchiontach. 

Crawling all the way back.

Oh Jesus, don't bug me, this song is on a loop. If you preorder Katatonia's new record (I did! I was probably first in line too) you get Old Heart Falls as a giftie to tide you over. It's like a very cold bleak Toollike song but with more emotion. Sigh. Kill me to this, please.

For every dream that is left behind me
I take a bow
With every war that will rage inside me
I hear the sound
Of another day in this vanishing life
Returned to dust
And every chance I've pushed away
Into the night

Asher also turned out to be otherwise engaged and so Batman will have to make a new plan altogether, unless he reoffers to Jasper but really I think that ship has sailed. And I am still busy. Busy juggling fire of my own in the form of men. Busy dealing with the crushing guilt of Caleb's outward loneliness and inward promise to not be the man his brother was. Busy caretaking my ghosts. Busy welcoming spring after a winter of crushing headaches and other issues that diverted all my energy into not spending the day screaming Fuuucccccckkkkk at the top of my lungs long and loud until the dark fell back down over us. Busy trying to keep this perfect balance, so obviously weighted down on one side. Busy watching Ben fight his demons, watching Lochlan fight mine. Busy watching my children grow before my very eyes. Busy not finding shoes I like enough to buy and living in my docs. Busy buying shingles and labour because I won't let the boys do the roof themselves. Too high in several spots to be safe and they are too proud to tie in. Busy considering Caleb's request of a helicopter landing pad and a new kitchen on my side of our line, drawn in the brick. Busy wondering why he needs helicopters here. Busy wondering about everything. Busy keeping up with them, and falling behind, as always.

It's been a bit crazy here. March break was so nice and now it's done and the kids had a short week back and I'm playing catch up because I was busy spending time with them. Next week should be back to normal though from here it looks like a clusterfuck of chiropractors (because headaches. I need to fix them) and car appointments because I'm the dealership queen or something.

I need a vacation but if I say anything four different people will book one. Yes, first world problems, I understand that but what you don't understand is that loyalty is a shell game and I've never been a very good politician.

For every dream that is left behind me
I take a bow
With every war that will rage inside me
I hear the sound
Of another day in this vanishing life
Returned to dust
And every chance I've pushed away
Into the night

A chance encounter between the titans in my front hall knocked over my goddamned roses which I didn't appreciate very much, especially since neither one of them live here. Besides, in a fair fight I am instructed to side with the Devil instead of the Batman because things work better that way.

So he was pleased, and I was not.

Loch and Benjamin were both vaguely pissed. PJ was overjoyed. New Jake seemed disappointed and Keith said we were all fucked in the head.  

Of course we are, I reminded him. Otherwise this doesn't work at all.

Because everything that hadn't turned black yet had moss growing on it.

I pressure-washed the entire point today or at least every hard surface save for the obvious ones so any meaningful words will have to wait til tomorrow until my hands stop shaking.

Caleb's response to Batman's plans? Absolutely not.

Shoot me. I like poking at his sore spots.

Batman's office in London is up at running at last! And he finally gave up on his efforts to secure a personal assistant there and so he changed his mind entirely and modified his plans significantly.

(this upset Caleb and just about everyone else. I'm kinda thrilled though, truth be told. And I rarely tell it so it must be special).

Instead of one imported assistant, he's fashioning the job into something for three people.

Me, New Jake and Asher.

Remember Asher? Batman gave him to me as a gift one Christmas, so that I would have my very own hot young butler except that Asher was outrunning his own problems and no one wanted a stranger in the house even though he is one of Batman's relatives.

But he'll be at Batman's. And he will function as butler there. Head of household, cooking, errands, organizing cleaning staff, drivers, deliveries and social functions, which is funny because Batman hardly ever entertains. He is one third.

The second third is New Jake, who will function as security and general maintenance/landscaping/vehicles/outside everything. But who gets a sparkling raise and odd complete veto powers over Asher because Asher's a tiny bit flighty so we're going to watch him grow into this position. Both of them, maybe.

The third-third is me, though the extent of my duty will be part-time (maximum ten hours a week. I can do ten hours a week) coordination of lawyers, accountants and temps to deal with all the things I today refused to do, sliding down off the chair from where I sat listening, with a rather dramatic and childish whine of despair and Batman laughed at my actions, pulling the 'coordinator' idea out of thin air, on the spot.

I can do that. I climbed back up into my seat and straightened my sweater, smiling like nothing happened.

On one condition.

What is that?

You have to spend the money I pay you instead of hording it, and no fraternizing with the other employees.

When have I ever fraternized with Jasper?

It isn't Jasper I'm thinking of.

Asher's a little young for my tastes unless you want me to go full coug-

Bridget.

Hey. Jake and I are adults and we got it out of our systems. I think.

Keep it professional.

You're SO boring.

Bridget-

For Christ's sake, I'm kidding.

But you're not and you have zero shame.

I give zero fucks, there is a difference. I'm always vaguely ashamed, if you want the truth.

Then why don't you change that?

Look at him. Would you?

Probably not. But I'm also not his type.

Lucky for me then. 

Flocked.

There is SO MUCH CHOCOLATE in this house. I might need New Jake to test my blood sugar. Caleb tells me I have no actual blood, only milk and glitter. He's weird. Once peeled off the ceiling, my color came back and everything, proving I do indeed have fast-moving blue blood in my veins. Not like you can't see them underneath my skin. Proves I'm real, proves I'm royal. Proves I probably shouldn't have had Lucky Charms for breakfast after eating chocolate all weekend long.

We retired the bunny head. Not only was it heavy, hot and relatively painful to wear but for as much magic as it gave the kids at Easter they pointed out it also gave them nightmares to see someone loping around the woods wearing the thing. A grim sort of scary-magic. They also proclaim to be too old for this shit (their. literal. words. because I let them swear as long as they use the words properly and not just toss them out in a thick layer. I keep forgetting Henry will be driving in sixteen months WHAT THE FUCK.).

The head was also was in surprisingly poor shape this year, as someone (not naming names-starts with P, ends with -eej) didn't store it properly in a rush and it was all dried out, stiff and disgusting. Ben offered to wear it anyway and so I ended the tradition on the spot.

Because gross.

Now the kids will need therapy for decades. FUN FACT, they've already had a metric shit-ton so they helped us burn the head and that was that. Tradition spent. On to the next. It was beautiful while it lasted but thinking back I think the boys did it for me, not the children.