Take out the storiesMy lips are dry, my cheeks cold when I arrive. He is on the phone but he winks at me and leans over the island, pushing an envelope toward me. It's pink. Palest baby pearl pink. I frown and he holds up three fingers and that means he's going to wrap up his conversation in under three minutes. I abandon the pretty envelope and go throw myself in one of his leather club chairs.
They've put into your mind
And brace for the glory
As you stare into the sky
The sky beneath
I know you can't be tired
Lay there, stare at the ceiling
And switch back to your time just go ahead now try and taste it
I know it should be ripe
(thrust ahead)
Turning in circles
Been caught in a stasis
The ancient arrival
cut to the end
I'd like to be taken apart from the inside
Then spit through the cycle right to the end
I wonder just how you shaped it To get back to your prize
(thrust ahead)
I smile when I see the coffee table. Henry has been here, an Escher puzzle is maybe 2/3 of the way completed on it and a can of Diet Coke is on a coaster right in the middle. Caleb lets Henry drink pop. I do not. I let Henry stay up late. Caleb does not. We even out. If Henry feels like having something he isn't allowed, he just wanders over to the other parent and gets express permission to have it anyway.
Caleb is finished with the phone and he swears to the disconnected call and then sweeps the envelope into his hand on the way into the living room. He gets down on his knees beside my chair and presents the envelope to me without a word.
It's pink. I look at it but I don't take it.
Open it. It won't bite you. Oh and by the way, I wish you'd watch what you write down.
It's common knowledge you have odaxelagnic tendencies. And tell me what this is, because I don't like surprises. I wish I brought a lipgloss in my pocket. My lips are burning.
Open it, Bridget. It's your Christmas bonus.
I've worked a whole four days for you this fall. This is hilarious. Also, it's barely the middle of November, aren't you early?
OPEN. IT. He runs out of good graces and switches to the rotten, bad kind.
There is a small card with a handwritten paragraph, which I don't read and a cheque. I slide it back into the pretty pink envelope and lean forward to place it on the puzzle.
Is that why you invited me over? To give me money that I have not earned?
Would you prefer to earn this money, Bridget? Oh, there he goes, falling into his own black holes so I go for audacity instead of sense.
Yes, I would. His eyes light up. I snap him out of it. I should WORK at least a hundred days to get a bonus. Isn't that more fair than just giving me money?
He recovers into the monster I know and love. You know what I miss? I miss the innocence of you in Vegas. Vegas impressed you. You didn't know how to hold a glass of champagne, how to keep your mouth shut at the tables or how to defer to me when spoken to directly by the wrong people. I even taught you how to withstand my brother without getting hurt. I taught you everything on those trips when I had you to myself. I turned you into a lady from the amusement park orphan you used to be. The subsequent trips were such a joy. You behaved. You listened. It was a respite for both of us.
I withstood, you mean. I get up and turn to leave but he comes after me, spinning me back around. He presses his forehead down against mine. We've had some good times, Bridget. Haven't we?
I needed you to help me be away from Cole. I had nowhere else to go.
But I've been here, every time you've asked for me. I'd never leave you alone the way they do constantly. You'd never have to miss me, we wouldn't have to be apart. Even during the day. Things could be so good. You'd be safe. You could teach me things. Like patience. How to comfort you in a way that works. How to give you what you need, Bridget.
I can't teach you those things, Diabhal.
You taught him.
HE TAUGHT ME!
You think that's how it was? Think again, sweetheart. He wasn't fit to look after himself, let alone you and you changed him. I think you could change me too.
What if I can't?
We'll never know until we try, Bridget.
I'm not up to that.
Not today, no. Today maybe we can just have some cheese?
Leaving now. This is how dysfunctional we are. Soul-shattering topics to dairy products in under a minute.
It just proves we were meant to be together.
Fuck off. Eat your cheese by yourself.
Nice seeing you too. I'll put the money in your account since you're going to be recalcitrant.
How you like me best, isn't it?
Indeed.