I seriously doubt what he's getting is a shipping container full of Marshmallow Fluff but stranger things have happened.

I know I shouldn't look
But I can't turn away

He's twisting my soul right in front of me, wringing it out with both hands, making me writhe in agony as he smiles so kindly at me. I should have been prepared.

What do you think would happen if everyone you went to for a hug in any given day ignored your requests, as if...you weren't even there?

They wouldn't because they know-

Just answer the question, Bridget. How would you feel? I want you to think hard before you answer.

Lochlan wouldn't-

Answer the question! Please. He softens slightly.

I stop protesting over something so ridiculous and think hard.  I would die.

I can't hear you.

I said I would die.

How do you think it feels for me then to ask for your company, for anything-on my knees, no less, and to be ignored for it? How do you think it feels after everything I have done for you?

I'm not supposed to be beholden to you.

Oh, but you are.

I am not.

Bridget, you don't want to piss me off today with your impulsive, belligerent inner child.

The one in grade six, you mean? I don't think I've ever made Caleb speechless like that before but he dropped the subject so fast my head spun.

I need your assistance this morning. 

Loch won't like-

I don't care what he likes, frankly. Would you like to come with me on a big-item shopping trip? I'm taking delivery of something you might enjoy.

Sure. May as well die young. And you have it backwards, by the way. You're beholden to me. Have been since grade six. 

I know. How am I doing?

Terrible. 

I'll have to work harder then. Give me fifteen minutes and we'll go. Run and tell your keepers. 

They won't like it. 

Oh, Bridget. As I told you already, I don't care how they feel. 

This is why God invented credit cards, toast and ice cream too.

EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY.

I plan to order one or two shipping containers' worth. You?

Post to follow later when I'm awake and not eating fluffernutters for breakfast.

Sleepless in West Van.

This. OMG I love this right down to the dumb video effects, the Where's Waldo striped t-shirt and the somebody stole my cookie expressions. They don't give a fuck about style, they are busy rocking our fucking faces off.

(I would embed it for prettiness but Google hates me and iOS hates all of us so until that works without coding hoops, stick with links, BRIDGET.)

Also, I never thought metal needed music videos but I've been in so many and it's wonderful and insane and sometimes embarrassing and sometimes gross and if there's a market then go for it, I guess.

I keep hitting repeat. I want to give them cookies and coats and see them smile really big and goofy. Just for a sec.

***

Asher has gone. I had breakfast with him and gave him a big hug when he left, even though I made no effort to get to know him or really include him in much because I didn't ask for a total stranger to be thrust into my life, one with no connection to us past a distant familial link via Batman. He would have caused more issues than he ever could have solved and at the end of the day PJ didn't welcome the extra hand nor appreciate it and all things default to Lord PaJamas, Everlasting Ruler and Much-Henpecked Destroyer of Conventional Domesticism in this household.

(That's PJ's full title, in case you're wondering. I regularly print out certificates for him that state that along with things like "For making the most epic tower of folded laundry so far this year" or "for not missing the toilet rim today because wow, are you fucking nearsighted or what?". It's really okay, you should see the ones he makes for me. I can't repeat any of them. My mom reads my blog.)

Batman was PISSED, however. He figured I would soften. Like wax, or like an ignored erect pe-WOW, I'm in a mood today, aren't I?

***

Blame the mood on Caleb, who 911'd me but no one else at four this morning and caused a hell of a row in my bed between Lochlan, who said to ignore it and Ben, who volunteered to go in my place, but only if he could wear the see-through babydoll nightgown that I've never actually worn. That made things worse instead of funny and I finally said they needed to tie a rope around my waist and set a timer and I would go over.

Everything would be fine! If the timer goes off and I'm not back, just pull on the rope.

For some reason, Lochlan didn't find that funny at all.

And so instead of going back to sleep I said the hell with all of it, phoned Caleb and established that he was awake and just lonely, bored and maybe...chest pains?

Seriously?

I wanted to say so many things but instead I hung up on him (don't worry, he was charming, threatening and negotiating and that's how I knew he was okay) and went downstairs to hang out with PJ, who couldn't sleep and was watching music videos on the big screen. But only ones that would rock his face off. He was very cuddly and fell asleep wrapped around me within about four minutes of my arrival so I watched the videos on my own until the sun came up, which was when I called Asher and invited him for breakfast.

Now I think I might die because I'm really tired and loopy and I want a cookie.

More from the confession without absolution crowd.

Claus was here today!

Remember Claus? Well, he came at a good time, for I had already decided I wasn't going to get out of bed. It's been five years since I've seen him. He was my favorite head-doc in the cold lands. Post-Cole, mid-Jake. 

He and Sam had a great chat. They remembered each other. I didn't know Sam was privvy to some of Jacob's private talks with Claus. Gee, you think Jake spent his time grooming Sam to be my keeper in Jake's afterlife? 

Yeah. I think he did. 

Claus got an earful from me, holy shit. I don't think I was ever actually straight with the man because he liked knowing how I felt in the moment. And then how to keep the momentum. How to use emotions as leverage to survive. How to thrive amongst the chaos. 

Instead I told him a bunch of other things and he asked me why I never told him these things before, that it would have helped, it would have made a difference. But I am no longer hopeful, just resigned and so I pointed that out, that thirty some-odd years of silence makes for interesting fucked-up-edness and I don't share these things because I don't want to be a curiosity. 

He made me cry. He told me that I was strong. 

I hate it when people say that because I am hypnotized, prosthelized, brainwashed and objectified and not nearly as strong as I could be, oh no.

He asked who was actually on my side and I gave him names as if it mattered. Does it? I don't know. 

He asked about Joel. Joel is pretty much guaranteed not to be on my side, so that's that. 

He said he had hoped things would be better. They are, I told him. Well, in a different way, I mean.

He's heading off to Vancouver island to do some exploring. Canada's a huge country. He said he'll swing back around on his way home in a week or so and he gave me some things to think about in the meantime.

But I won't.

Integrated trigger safety.

Caleb left me his Visa infinite so I could pay for Henry's field trip on the school website. I put my birthday in instead of his when it asked for verification and now I'm locked out of paying until I can use a different card.  Does anyone know when it unlocks so I can try again? Because this happens just about every month now and you'd think..well, you'd think someone would get me my own damned credit card and then I wouldn't have to ask.

Oh wait, what? Yes, I know it defeats the whole purpose of the exercise. That's what I was hoping for.

***

Yesterday Caleb abruptly told me he was nothing like Cole. Nothing.

(Short of the obvious DNA and predilections and the way they eat/breathe/obsess. Right so NOTHING like him.)

Lochlan agreed, almost laughing in relief before punching him in the head anyway. Poor Matt was the only one present besides and he didn't waste a minute getting them apart and on their feet again. Lochlan made a shitty threat and Caleb ventured a legal one and I asked them both to fuck off and Matt agreed with me and then softened it with a word or two about keeping the peace for all our sakes before wisely shutting up.

PJ came through the door not five minutes later and I told him what happened and he was just sad he didn't win the bet. He figured Lochlan would pop him before lunch.

***

I stand in the sun at the top of the stepladder on the back porch of the castle, peeking into the hanging pot of strawberry plants. I have a fork and the watering can and some fertilizer on the railing and I'm poking around when Jacob comes out and wraps both arms around my waist so I can't fall.

What are you up to? Trying to touch the clouds again?

No, I'm trying to figure out why I'm getting the little white flowers but no actual fruit on this one. 

I see. What have you found?

Nothing? I don't know. Maybe it's a dud. Or maybe the bees aren't doing their thing since it's up really high?

True. But you know, I can see it just fine so that wouldn't be it. 

You're huge though. 

I can see right into the pot. 

Stop rubbing it in. 

So when the berries are ripe I see them when I come in the door. 

Jacob, there are no berries on this one. 

..and then I eat them as I unlock the door and you always think I've got strawberry gum. It's actually been a crazy producer, this plant. I'm just about full by the time I hit the kitchen. 

You've been eating them?

They're really good when they're warm from the sun. You should try them sometime. 

Well I would but I can't see when they're there, obviously. 

Yeah, that's too bad. 

It is. 

A travesty!

I can't believe you've been pinching them all summer long when you know I've been wondering and watching. 

I'm not sorry either, Princess.

Shhh. This is for me, not you.

Need my bravery song*. Just look away or something, for fucks sakes.

*(I have no idea why these videos don't embed on mobile Safari. My apologies. It's Dare you to move by Switchfoot.)

Bitter beans.

Today was just lovely as I sat at the table sipping coffee and trying not to flinch while Caleb detailed to Lochlan the best way to kill someone, if he was indeed serious about wanting to take my soul back. He said the only way to transfer it a second time is in death.

I pointed out if I die then my soul won't be important to anyone.

I was sharply corrected and the graphic descriptions began, beginning with Loch's inner character battles and ending with my bereavement as Caleb becomes the next to die, instead of waiting for his body or his mind to be ready.

(I don't think he missed anything except the effect the entire conversation would have on me in a permanent way.)

And I don't think I touched my food at our month-end coparenting informal meeting at a restaurant I don't like all that much. I just drank coffee. A lot of coffee. I drank so much I asked the server just to leave the pot. He did not want to until Caleb said it was fine. Ever the child, I am.

Loch looked like he was taking notes, though horrified ones, for it all makes sense if we're going to continue our large scale games of life, death, marriage, betrayal, trust, telepathy and threat.

I just wanted to live in a camper and boil green beans for dinner, I swear. That's all I wanted. Wildflowers in a jar on a table outside and not worrying about the moral difference between choosing to die and being killed. I wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel on Sunday mornings and call it church and I wanted to sing love songs out loud into the wind and I wanted to burrow my arms into the sleeves of Lochlan's jacket while he's still wearing it and I want to never think past the end of the week forever and ever, amen.

Loch squeezed my hand on the drive home and said he pictured a wreath of flowers on the door, not a bouquet in a jar and I swore at him for all of 1983 through 1985, inclusive.

Binding on pickup.

Baby, I been praying hard
Said no more counting dollars
We'll be, we'll be counting stars

Take that money
Watch it burn
Sing in the river
The lessons I learned

No silent treatment this time, just a good rollicking curse-laden lecture, driven by fear and spat out in endless breathless words that made me cry like I did when I was eleven and Loch would scold me for going too close to the breakwater/highway/monsters. It's only effective if you can draw out their emotions, someone told him once, probably the fucking fortune teller, as he learned how to parent on the road, amusement-park style. I learned within two months how to cry on command just to get out of the room but now it just happens and I can't control it and that really pisses me off. He takes my anger personally to the point where we take a moment before throwing our words out, sharpening each one to a fatal point while the room fills with witnesses and supporters and peacemakers too. Sam puts his hand on my shoulder and all it does is make me hurl the words that much harder until I have laid out my side so nakedly and honestly no one can pick it up to argue, it's just too fucking sharp now. For my efforts I am rewarded with yet another list of all the things that make me terrible, right down to the fact that my emotions took up so much energy in my body, they stunted my growth.

And yet I am smug and standing my ground, because he is afraid. And because his hypocrisy is staggering. I yell that too but it's no match for his own pointy points and pretty soon I have won the room. I play the grief card last, twisting paper cuts into his very soul with its edge.

I'd dip him in iodine to make him sting on top of it all if only I could lift him but I can't so instead I remind him that I'm trying hard to please him and trying hard to please the Devil with such fewer timely resources and trying to keep Benjamin relevant and the children happy and the other boys content in their lives and he tells me I've got it wrong, that it's all backwards and everyone should be trying to please me for once because I'm no longer that eight-year-old girl running through the woods, trying to keep up, hoping I'll be invited or at least not sent away this time. Trying to be one of them.

Bullshit! I can't breathe anymore. Fuck this.

You've got it wrong, Peanut. We're trying to make you happy but you are determined to be miserable. 

No, I'm not. I just really don't want anyone else to die. 

You know, I didn't think it was possible to break a human being this badly but they really did it. You know that? They really did. 

I'll be okay. 

I'm losing faith in that statement at this point. Something's gotta give. 

Status quo, Locket. Just leave it. 

I CAN'T! 

***

The sunny day drifts into darkened twilight and I find Loch in the tiny studio we've set up in a little-used corner on the first floor. He is drinking tea and drawing. He looks up. The anger has passed, and in it's place hopeless indemnity has settled.

He asks what the kids are up and if I'd like tea. I nod but point out more than tea, I could use a hug. I figure he will tell me to go ask Caleb for one but instead he slides off the stool and comes to me, arms wide.

I will never get used to this. I don't trust him, Pea. I don't like his tactics. His games are too big. 

You have my heart. 

I want your soul too. I want to steal it back from him and then you'll be whole again. 

That would be nice but since we're a package deal, if we can get mine, we need to get yours at the same time. Now, please, can we talk about other things?

Okay. He pulls me in tight against the plaid flannel wall and I exhale for so long I think I am a slow leak in a small balloon, deflating flat and pokey in his hands. He laughs.

Stay here and draw with me. 

What are we drawing?

I dunno. Stuff.

The curse of wanting an eternal soul.

And I'm ready to know what the people know
Ask 'em my questions and get some answers
What's a fire and why does it, what's the word? Burn?

When's it my turn?
Wouldn't I love, love to explore that shore up above?
Out of the sea
Wish I could be part of that world

At the end of a helpless week in which he watched us do absolutely nothing with his generous gifts, Caleb called me over once again to ostensibly sign a card for Mike, who retires this week after many years of service as Satan's part-time driver (and mine though it was hard to call him and so I rarely did). Attached to the card is a large manila envelope containing a beautiful print and a smaller manila envelope containing his separation papers, a letter of character reference should he ever require it and cheques for vacation days not taken and a severance he is not expecting.

I'm not sure Mike is prepared for the fact that by leaving work he will have a higher net worth than if he continued at his old retainer rate but Caleb believes in rewarding people for their hard work.

I mean, look where I live now. 

But I work very hard to make the Devil happy all the while shoving him off the side of the cliff when no one is watching. Case in point, when I arrived at the boathouse, Caleb calls for me to let myself in. I wander down the hall and he is in the bathroom shaving with a straight razor. The strope is hanging over the top of the door. Shirtless and clad only in pajama pants, he is almost finished but still covered with three or so lengths of shaving foam left to remove. 

I'll come back when you're ready. Why didn't you say to wait?

Princess, does it actually matter?

It does, yes. 

You woke up in my bed less than a week ago. 

It doesn't mean we need to be... familiar. 

You're family. You're my obsession. The mother of my son. Sorry I'm trying to multitask today but I don't see it as a huge imposition. His hand begins to shake and he stops and takes a breath, setting the razor on the counter.

I pick it up.

Bridget, your cast will get wet. I just need a moment. The pills-

It's fine. I step closer and he lifts up his chin, looking skyward, blue eyes reflecting the lights of the bathroom while he studies the pine trees through the skylights.

If you were smart you would cut my throat and run, he tells me. He closes his eyes and waits and I dutifully finish and then he takes the razor back from me and presses a clean towel around my cast.

The glitter-

It's fine. Thank you for your help. He is two inches from my face and I tread water in his medium blues.

He kisses the space between my eyes

I should go. 

Stay. Have a cup of coffee. If you wouldn't mind waiting in the kitchen, I'll make myself presentable and be right out. Start some coffee if you can manage it?

Sure, but only ten minutes. PJ-

He nods. Ten minutes is fine. The card is on my desk, by the way. 

The butcher and the busker and the bumblebee too (please God don't let this stick).

I saw a different doctor in the practice this morning. This one was extremely personable and looked just like Tom Hardy.

I kept wanting to ask him to say 'You merely adopted the dark! I was born in it, molded by it. I didn't see the light until I was already a man, by then it was nothing to me but BLINDING!' in Bane's voice but I thought that might be rude.

***

Last night turned out to be an evening that I won't soon forget. The boys were jovial and tender, sweet through dinner and thoroughly generous with each other and with me when we returned home.

They haven't really been able to reconnect until now. Our nerves have been shot, patience so frayed we couldn't thread it through a day to save our souls, not that we actually could save our souls at this late hour but it's always a nice thought.

This morning when I got up to let the dog out and start some coffee I came back  to wake up Loch to get ready for his day and he and Ben were spooning loosely. They were both deeply asleep.

I stood there for such a long time and smiled. You have no idea.

I finally wedged myself in between them, making a Bridget-sandwich, waking up Lochlan when my cast bumped his shoulder and he said Good morning, meat. What in the hell are you doing? 

I told him how I found the two of them sleeping and he jumped up and pointed at me. Don't you dare write about it! I swear to God, Bridge. It was a vague threat that he left there because he knows I will and because he's technically proud to be here in our freaky little marriage for three. Ben woke up because of the shouting, smiled at Lochlan and sleepily patted the bed, telling him to come back, that he was cold and needed the fire close.

You weren't sleeping! 

I was. But damn. You're like a human hot water bottle. I think I'm going to have Bridget trade places permanently or maybe we'll just kick her out. 

Hey, wait a minute! This is my spot right here! I'm the meat! You're the bread! If you get rid of me then you're both...

Toast! Ben yells triumphantly and then looks alarmed.

See? I cover all the angles. Now you have to keep me!

You're lucky you're so cute, Meatlet. 

Meatlet?

Well, it's not like you're even bigger than a side cut...maybe a roast. Ben is thinking hard for someone who's not awake yet.

Wow. 

No WAIT! Meatball! That's what you are. Loch claps his hands together and I twitch.

Enough. I have too many nicknames now. 

There are never too many nicknames for you, Meatball. 

I'm writing about the spooning, Lochlan!

Well then I'm going to give up all other nicknames from here on out, you little Saltwater Meatball.