A shift in group dynamics.

Ready? Caleb is in the doorway in a tight tshirt and jeans. Kill me.

Almost. Wait. You going? 

I want to see City and Colour, yes. 

Who's ticket did you steal?

Dalton offered me his. He's seen both acts and is tired.

Ah. 

Excited?

Very! But more tired. Weeknight shows are for the young birds. 

You're still a young bird. 

I laugh. I'm so not still young, but yes, I'm ready. Let's go!

Angels say they can make you suffer.

Oh my God.

So Alice in Chains is playing here tomorrow night. Of course we have tickets. Of course. Wouldn't miss them (please play Fly).

Today, after teasing fans for a week straight they reveal that City and Colour is the opener.

Everyone is like huh? Or fuck yeah, Alexis On Fire!

And I'm like Dallas Green? The voice of my dreams? 

His song, The Grace from Daniel Victor's Neverending White Lights: Act 1: Goodbye Friends of the Heavenly Bodies is still one of the most beautiful, and most forlorn things I have ever heard.

To this day.

(For credibility, I did a quick search. Here's a mention from nine years ago. If I had time I could dig further.)

Lawyers + chefs.

I returned to work today. Maybe I shouldn't have as I felt paper-thin, close to tears, shaky and not at all up to any of the bullshit I put up with throughout a regular shift.

I got yelled at. A lot. All day long, seemingly and through no fault of my own. I couldn't finish anything before being told to do something else. I couldn't get out of my own way. I went outside on my break and screamed into the void and then ate my sandwich and texted with Ruth, Henry and Ben and then I went back in for more punishment. The yelling continued, the stupid customers continued and I wondered why the hell I need to prove this in particular?

I looked at the clock, thinking it was ten minutes to two but it was ten to three. And at three, I ran.

I was so happy to be home again I forgot about work, forgot about just about all of it save for the ache in my shoulders and my legs.
I got a big hug from PJ, one from Duncan and one from Mark too, who is still here working on some tattoos for some folks, me included.

I got a really long hug from Lochlan who told me to quit. And I laughed because one crappy first day back after a micro-breakdown does not mean the end of this. Especially seeing as how I'm a little over two weeks from my first year anniversary of having a job.

And he laughed too, because he knows I'm so stubborn. Oh so stubborn. Maybe too stubborn for my own good.

Caleb came home later but I got a quick hug as he said he had a business call to attend to, that he was finishing tax season. I am suitably impressed, as I refused again to touch his taxes. He forges ahead though, and is getting it done. We'll talk when I'm done, he threatens. They make you cry, that's it. This charade is finished. 

It's a part-time job! Not a charade! I tell his back as he heads upstairs to his study.

In your case it's the same thing! He calls back down. Not going to wait until it's a legal issue. We can nip it before then. 

Don't you dare send threatening letters to my boss.

Those, my dear, are what make the world go around.

Quiet Gods.

I'm finishing my breakfast, just about to go back up and get ready (I don't go to church in my pajamas) when Caleb comes in, wraps his hand around my head so he can pull me in close, his mouth against my ear and tells me he isn't about to try and take Ben's place in my life, that it is sacred and he wouldn't fuck with that. Or Jacob's. Or Cole's. Or even Lochlan's. So that I can rest easy knowing he's not going to be the bad guy anymore in my life, that he sees how frightening and exhausting it is for me.

Then he lets go and puts both arms out wide. As if to say, See? I didn't even get angry or jealous when you pointed out that I'm not going to have a formal place in this relationship hierarchy in your stupid little blog.

I have shoved him to one corner of my brain, dismissed as the boyfriend. Here close when I need him and nowhere to be found when I do not. Then maybe after years and years have gone by without him reverting back to machiavellian devil-status I will relent and give him a more formal designation but we're barely one season away from his last monstrous turn and he's as predictable as I am when it comes to sliding backwards.

But he gets it and here's a first, I guess.

Can I have a hug? His arms are still out while my mind slips right through them. Oops.

I nod and throw myself at him, as I've never turned down a good hug in my life and he's always given some of the best.

He folds his arms in around me, squeezes hard and kisses the top of my head. Believe me, Neamhchiontach. I need to get this right and if you help me, I can do it. Then he lets go and swats my ass up the stairs. Church is in an hour and you're not ready.

You going?

Not today, Doll. I frown and he laughs. I'm sure you'll have lots of company. 

I come back down half an hour later ready to roll. Showered, warmly dressed and dragging Ben and Lochlan with me. Ben drives, Lochlan rides shotgun, Dalton pretends to sleep beside me, head heavy on my shoulder and I look out the window wondering if Caleb is acting or trying hard, as always.

Dry ride.

I can see you running, running
Every night from the same darkness
It's coming, coming
But you are not alone
If you just say the word
I'll be there by your side
You make me more
You make me superhuman
And if you need me to
I will save you

Joel must have decided the worst of the storm had passed or maybe I just made him horribly uncomfortable enough that he left shortly after the movie ended, not wishing to see if the final installment was out or hanging around to talk with the boys. Not even two months after our last altercation in which he tried to cross my boundaries and failed and I was short and irritated with him, and he with me.

We didn't actually talk last night and I made such an effort to be a jerk and he made no effort not to be one and sadly I think the tides have turned with him at last and instead of a novelty, a treat, a fascination, I have become a chore. A tiresome errand he has to make a long drive to in order to verbally spar with. A tiny thorn in his side, the one person that broke him and that he somehow feels some sort of lifelong allegiance to anyway.

Maybe that's done at last. He's not the first man to get fed up with me (that was Lochlan, ironically) and probably won't be the last. But Joel was a different kind of intensity, an incredibly invasive, personal, completely wrong relationship and I still torture him every chance I get. I lie to him. I make things horrible so that he will let go but he's slow to catch on. Or maybe he isn't but he's definitely as stubborn as I am.

He will call later and tell me I lied, tell me I'm only hurting myself, tell me everything I'm doing is only going to set me back and I will disregard that too. Everything I've done as of late has made things better and I don't know if I prefer the short term gains that maybe do set me back, or the long term agony that maybe works toward a better future. I don't know. I just don't. I don't know much of anything.

I just know that waking up this morning breathless, sandwiched between Lochlan and Caleb worked, yes, Caleb, Caleb who said last night he feels as if he's finally achieved what he wanted all along. Just to share me.

Yes, that's what he said. I swear to God he's in love with Lochlan and I'm just some sort of symbolic testament to that.

He just wants to share me.

I don't have the heart to tell him that isn't what we're going to do.

I don't have the heart to remind him that Ben has a Very Big place here and it's only because he's so busy perpetually that there's any room at all for Caleb.

He knows. I'm sure he knows but he's an opportunist, as always.

Just like me.

Netflix and Friday.

I can't believe no one noticed this big box of Animal Crackers in the pantry.

YOUR LOSS, BOYS.

Edit: Actually Joel ate most of them to feel less uncomfortable while we watched Fifty Shades Darker and he pretended he was having an innocuous conversation with me while we watched. In reality he was testing me to see if the worst is over for the time being.

Before you tell me I'm making a hostile work environment for him remember I found the cookies and decided to watch the movie before he was here. If he's going to show up unannounced then he must suffer. It's totally inappropriate to watch a movie like that with him, but that's what our entire relationship has been from the beginning, so why the hell not?

It's very uh..Fifty Shades. They should have gone for a hard R, I think. It would have been better. Also I feel like every movie I watch now just screams Vancouver so loud. I can pick out every location. Please kill me, I have lived here too long (Nine years now! CHRIST!).

This movie is like watching Caleb in action. LOL

Out of balance.

On headphones my only copy of Pearl Jam's Black features vocals and rhythm guitar in my right ear, drums and piano in my left, and the principal guitar skews back and forth wildly. It's distracting to the point of unlistenability.

Is that a word? It is now, folks.

Ben doesn't see the problem, except with what he now calls his Little Production Quality Specialist.

It's bad, Benny. 

But you love it anyway. Like me, I guess.

***

Lochlan is sitting in the gazebo when I come out, his phone and an empty coffee mug in front of him, a conflicted expression on his face. The wind blows his hair just enough to give him a leading-man appearance and I take a long minute to appreciate that. A very long minute.

What are you waiting for? Am I in your spot? But he hasn't looked at me.

Well, whatever spot you're in is where I want to be. 

Fuck me. You sound like Winnie The Pooh. 

I burst out laughing but he doesn't join in. Okay, what's wrong? 

Nothing you can fix, Peanut, and if you're okay then that's all that matters. 

Okay is a relative ter-

You know exactly what I mean. He glares at me.

I nod. Caleb staying.

Caleb staying. Because it's not enough to have a romantic dinner for four. He somehow charms every last one of us! What this fuck is that, even? Last time I looked I wasn't into the tall, dark and rakish type-

Rakish. What a delicious word! 

Don't change the subject. 

Another reason to want to be a man. Y'all can be rakish.

Bridge.

Yes?

How did he make me think that was totally okay? That of course it's normal-

Oh, it's so not normal, Lochlan.

I know that but how? How did he manage to bewitch me too? 

It was late, mayb-

Contrary to popular belief, I care very deeply for your approval in every area of my life, my relationship to Bridget included. Caleb is behind me and I jump fifty feet. I love you like a brother. Maybe more than that. Maybe you're beginning to see my side of this finally. I certainly hope this week is an indication of things to come. 

He turns and goes back in to the house. I turn and watch him go and then when I turn back around Lochlan is gone. I see the door close on the camper parked at the edge of the rock wall but I don't follow him. Instead I go back to the house.

Oh real love.

But here you are to set a brand new path
To show me all that love means
When I hold you, I need you
I said forever, I mean forever

Dinner on the patio last night, later than ever as Lochlan was working with Schuyler on a thing and came back so late and all that remained by the hour long after which I should have been asleep was Ben, Lochlan, Caleb and myself. Ben and I were starving, Lochlan was indifferent but warm at the same time and Caleb was just quietly content. Happy to be there, maybe, happy to watch the waves and enjoy the food and wine and sparkling water and talk about nothing as I reset myself into life as it was before the nightmares resumed and blew me right out of my comfort zone.

Caleb spears a final olive on his fork. Problem is, it's from my plate.

Hey.

Come get it. He holds the fork high above his head and grins. I place my plate on the table from my lap and then his plate too, climbing into his lap and then standing up to reach my olive. He groans as I manage to hit all the right places to step and the others laugh.

I take his fork, for good measure and settle back into his lap.

Take my olive, will you. That's what you get.

I didn't think you liked the black olives.

If you would ever let me choose pizza toppings you would know I like those ones best. Actually no. Manzanilla ones stuffed with garlic are the best. Garlic and hot peppers.

Forget it. You get pineapple on pizza if we let you choose. It's better if someone does it for you.

Forever ten years old. Pick my pop flavour for me, open it too, because I can't, finish it for me since it will be too much and never ever ask me what I'd like on my pizza since it's assumed I will like what they like, without exception

And I mostly do, except for pineapple.

His offhand remark reminds me that this is my comfort zone, the place where everything is done for me, decided for me, chosen for me. It's a place that, when things are at their worst, I don't mind.

I put my head down against his chest and he slides me down to one side, one arm holding me tight against him. He takes a deep breath and lets it out.

Next time we'll get pineapple, he says, a promise instantly forgotten as he kisses the top of my head and squeezes me hard.

It's safe. And it's warm and I close my eyes and I don't wake up until he startles me softly. It's later still and the ice cubes are low measures of warm water in the bottoms of our glasses. Ben is watching me intently and Lochlan is standing beside Caleb's chair.

Come on, Neamhchiontach-sleepy-head. Bed time.

Lochlan pulls me up to my feet and I lean my head against his shoulder. So tired. We head inside and upstairs, Lochlan's arm around my waist, his lips against my temple.

Once inside our room Lochlan strips off my campfire-smoke clothes and marvels at how sleepy I am (eyes so heavy). Briefly he tries to head off the coming storm but then he is too late and it hits, capsizing us, knocking us into the sea where we flail against the dark before finding purchase again, before finding safety in Caleb, who didn't leave like I thought he would, instead remaining to trace my tattoos on my bare skin and remind me that once, he was the nightmare, and then he became the good brother.

When I woke up this morning, I could still smell the smoke in our hair, but their arms were around me, a dreamstate tug of war with all winners, no losers. I didn't ask Caleb to stay but he did, I didn't ask Ben to make space but he did, I didn't ask Loch if it would be alright if this happened (but it did and it was alright indeed) and this morning no one resorted to violence and no one could find any ghosts at all. 

Netflix + milk.

One of the best husbands I have ever had is definitely Ben. Ben who got up this morning (early-early) and got cereal for us on a tray and put Netflix on the laptop and propped it up so we could snuggle in late. We spent a couple of hours slowly finishing two huge bowls of Honeycombs with chocolate milk because he's insane and we watched cooking shows, because so am I.

Chocolate milk in cereal is terrible. Also Honeycombs are huge. I gave up trying to fit them in my face and ate them like cookies, picking them up one at a time to take bites of while we marvelled over the cinematography of the new season of Chef's Table, which I am struggling to finish (yeah..still). I think it's because this season they're really focusing on the personal trials of each chef to the point that the food is not even a second thought but a distant memory instead. Only there's no character development so I don't exactly care and my mind wanders and I have to re-watch.

Ben is barely watching it at all. He is watching me while he easily fits multiple Honeycombs in his mouth at once. He has a large mouth to go with his entire oversized being. Someone once joked that I was a third of a Ben, proper but I think it's more like precisely half. Either way he makes up a lot of ground on my behalf these days and took Lochlan's cheap opportunity to make up his own ground and threw it out the window.

Either make your huge sweeping gestures all the damn time or fuck off, Lochlan was told. This just makes things worse.

And true to form, Lochlan fucked off. Because he is flighty and fancy and full of fire as much as he is pragmatic and he also has a pride problem and so he went off to lick his wounds and Ben took the opportunity the moment it presented itself.

I need to get dressed, I tell Ben, licking my spoon. He will drink the leftover milk. I'm lactose intolerant anyway and not a big fan of chocolate milk, or even cereal but I am a huge fan of Ben. The biggest smallest fan of his that ever was.

For what? He asks, letting his forehead knit. He sounds cross at the thought of anything breaking this momentary, wonderful spell.

It's my turn to clean bathrooms. 

Let each of them clean their own. He orders.

And ours. 

The kids can do theirs. 

And ours, I repeat.

We'll make Lochlan do it. 

Seriously. Besides, it's cold right now, without clothes on. 

Ben reaches down and grabs his t-shirt off the floor. He turns it rightside out and puts it over my head, pulling it down over me. Whitechapel. Right on.

There. Now you're dressed. 

This will be a good look while I do my chores. 

I told you, we're leaving them for Lochlan. We're going to stay in bed all day and watch television and be regular people. 

We're so NOT regular peop-

WE CAN TRY.

Terrible, beautiful life.

Pretty sure This Beautiful Life by Colony House is the most incredibly gorgeous song in the world right now. If everyone isn't using as their wedding song already then they should be.

Pretty sure slow-dancing to it with Lochlan under the lights on the patio last night helped bring me back from the hole I dug using the sharp edges of my nightmares over the past little while.

Pretty sure his solid hold on me kept me from slipping any further, instead helping to give me purchase to climb back up.

He isn't a spiritual man. He is reality-based. Logical. Pragmatic. Cogent. Sensible. And also certifiably magical.

And even as I started the night knocking on the door to hell I ended it in a much, much better place. Even as the Devil answered the door in surprise, the surprise grew as I was pulled away again, led back down the hall with a refusal to even entertain my motivations or my actions altogether.

Sunset is starting, Lochlan says. Let's watch it. Let's just watch it and not do anything else.

It's a response to a complaint I gave when I was eleven and I just wanted to stop packing up for five minutes and watch the sunset but we didn't have time because you can't pack up after dark with no lights.

She (the eleven year old that mercurially rules my world) is very happy with the complaint resolution. It seemed like something so simple but the difference in experience led to endless disappointment as she tried to live in the moment and learned...not to.

One of my biggest regrets, he says as he spins me around under his arm.

And now, fixed. I reassure him and he smiles in the near-dark, curls backlit, mood backlit. Everything backlit. Magic hour indeed. Who needs the devil when you have a magician? Who needs a ghost when I've got a live one? Who needs the maturity of an eleven-year-old when...

I mean, I don't know if I can fix that part but I'm trying.