Sunday 7 January 2018

Jesus Benjamin (welcome to completely different levels of alertness and morning-ness).

Ben is on point this morning, waking me up early to get ready (he's already dressed for church), then while I'm in the shower he make us coffee and bagels, which were ready just as I came out in my robe to get dressed. We pile back into bed to try to wake up Lochlan so we can eat together. Lochlan is reluctant and sleepy and beautiful. I struggle to hold my cup and plate level between that distracting view and Ben moving, which threatens to upend my breakfast but only a little.

Lochlan manages half a cup of coffee and three bites of my bagel before asking if he can sleep. Ben grants him his request like a dad, but he's eyeing the untouched third bagel. I eye him and he catches me.

Fight you for it? 

You're on. 

I reach up and tickle him under his arms and he retaliates by pinning me down. I shriek, Lochlan curses very loudly and Ben clamps his hand over my mouth, tickling me all over with his other hand until I'm shaking and muffled-screaming and thrashing like a maniac.

Lochlan gets up and goes into the bathroom and doesn't come back out while we lie there, church clothes askew, breathing heavily and laughing softly.

Ben looks at the clock. Fuck, we gotta go. 

Okay. 

He gets up, tucking himself back together and pulls me to my feet. I straighten my dress, find my shoes and take off the one remaining earring. I don't where the other one went. Fuck. I fix my hair and grab a lipstick and my bag off the dresser.

Love you, Locket! I call through the door.

Wait! 

He flings the door open, towel in hand. Come back for lunch. I'll be awake then. 

I nod. I'll pray for your heathen soul. 

Good luck with that. Love you Peanut.

He plants a morning-breath kiss on me and Ben pulls me out the door.

***

Church was quiet and boring and empty and raining. It's not hard to hear Sam when the rain beats down on the roof but it's hard to stay awake. Every time my head went down Ben would squeeze his arm tightly around me. I think he thought I was going to fall on my shoes, collapsing face-first into a puddle on the floor in front of the bench.

Honestly I probably would have.

PJ smirked the whole time. He finds my narcolepsy hilarious. Where's Loch? He asked.

Home. He's up but wasn't in time to come today.

Lucky bastard, PJ says under his breath.

Hey, you don't have to come, I tell him. No one forced you. 

I feel guilty if I don't, PJ says and Ben chuckles. Sam's eyes find us, twinkling. He thinks he's said something clever. I nod at him for the confidence boost and he carries on. I can't even remember his sermon though, maybe it's the traditional understated January malaise. The days are still short and dark, the weather is typical, deplorable and our minds are elsewhere.

Sam lets us out early and we were all home in record time. His second-in-command looks after second service today. It will be more crowded with the later crowd and less personal, somehow.

When we get home Lochlan has tomato soup and grilled cheese ready to roll. Ben eats four sandwiches before I finish half of one. Lochlan is dressed, his hair's under control and he's alert and nice. He's so cranky sometimes. He and Ben share a smile as they both get up at the same time to clear plates.

And I speak too soon.

Jesus. I feel like a princess again. You're all spoiling me. 

They take all of the plates they're holding and pile them in front of and all around me. I just won the chore with that comment.

Nice.