A doughnut with the sin removed.

Loaded smile
Light the way for those you left behind
Set the earth on fire
‘Cause I don’t want enough
I want it all

Love left me hollow
I’m with you in the end
Cold, crippled, and shallow
Don’t leave me here again
I can’t go on
You are bound to break me in
I come undone
Don’t you drag me down again

Lochlan doesn't want to be described as or have anyone interpret my loyalty to him as submission. He doesn't play those games. We've tried. It doesn't work. It's sort of like when I wear high heels and nail polish I look like a little girl playing dress up. Same with us with regards to sex games. It isn't natural for us and so we don't. He isn't wired like other people. I mean, don't get me wrong. He has a stupidly hungry teenage-boy appetite for me but he's not going to tie me up and expect compliance or invoke any sort of role-playing.

He is different.

Actually right now he is tired and worn, with bags under his eyes and the unnatural thinness that he wears by now most summers when his hair lightens to blonde and he embraces the sun, working in the heat, forgetting to stop for meals or even breaks for that matter. Each fall and winter he packs on twenty pounds and then it melts off every summer. Like insurance for the hard season ahead.

The work is still voluntary. Word of mouth is spreading and he's refurbished more campers this spring  than the last two years combined. The work is honest, the money is good and the location is a-okay, he says, fulfilling his hard-set criteria for most jobs.

He works in the sun all day and makes a hundred trips a week to the hardware supply store and then I think sometimes he stays up all night watching me sleep so I don't get taken in the night by demons or allies alike.

Not an easy life, by far and I'd like to change that and that's one of the biggest reasons for why I cut Caleb loose even though if you ask him we're 'on a break' or 'working things out'.

We aren't. I'm through. He can accept it or die in denial, I don't really care.

What I do care about is my redhead right here and he needs kindness and rest and a bit more of a break than he's had thus far and I'll be the one to see that he gets it.

***

Can you run and get my payout, Bridgie? 

Where is it?

The Winnebago on the south side of the lot. You can't miss it.

Okay! 

I came back fifteen minutes later, overheated and almost in tears from frustration.

What's the matter? 

I couldn't find the booth where you win a bagel! You said I couldn't miss it but I must of! 

His face. The smile was suffocating his amusement and I knew he was trying not to laugh at me. No, it's a Winn-e-bag-o. It's a big brand of RV. 

Oooooh. 

Want to try again?

Yes! I'm glad it's just a camper. I didn't want to have to try to win any of those games. They're all fixed anyway, like you showed me. I thought you were crazy!

Overtalking, the classic distraction.

A new pastel pink bikini was delivered to me this morning unannounced. Caleb had it sent from a store where I once admired their things and then came to my senses because swimsuits, in my universe, don't cost $1100. I promptly got what I needed at Wal-Mart with the dark green number for a cool $17.99. 

He says that's why it doesn't last. I pointed out they don't last because sand/concrete/wood is snaggy and the bum fabric gets grabbed and pulled so easily and sorry, but I'm not one of those Ibiza ladies in her high heels, full makeup and jewelry dancing on a yacht in my bikini and never sitting down. I'm a kid. I skid off the dock on my arse. I sit on the beach. I sit with my feet in the pool. Fuck Ibiza. Fuck yachts. Swimsuits are for swimming. Those people are wearing glorified lingerie. 

I went over and asked him to send it back. Just lie and say it didn't fit or was redundant, that I can't take gifts from him anymore and that thank you but I plan on picking up a new suit this weekend. Probably at Wal-Mart. 

He cringes. (Wow. Nice. It's horrible if it isn't Dior? What the fuck, Caleb. You weren't raised like this so fuck off with the snobbery, I'm thinking but he's busy steamrolling ahead.)

My parental support includes household needs. You're part of the household and have a need for a new suit. Enjoy it, Bridget. With my compliments. 

ARGHHH.

Is that 'thank you' in Carnyspeak? 

No. 

Bridget, the money I have given you is yours without conditions but I still have more than you so if I want to treat you then I should be able to pick up the occasional item that you require without it turning into world war three. 

 I fired you. 

No, what you asked for was a break. 

Wow, I love revisionist history. I asked for a permanent bre-

A physical moratorium, and as you can see, I've chosen to decline. I'm hoping this phase of yours doesn't last long. In the meantime please give an old man somethig nicer to look at then your half-naked bearded friends around the pool. 

You're saying if I grow a beard I would be less attractive to you? 

I didn't say that. 

Oh so you're saying if I did grow one I'd be as attractive?

Bridget-

Maybe moreso?

Stop. Please. 

What if I get PJ to wear this suit and I'll wear his board shorts? His beard is so lovel-

What will you wear on top?

Nothing! He doesn't wear a shirt. Why would I? 

If you would like to skinny-dip, call me. 

I knew it. The beard turns you on. 

Christ. Will you keep the suit, Bridget?

Because beards are hawwwwwwwwwwwww-

BRIDGET. 

I'll ask Lochlan if it's okay. 

Why does he need to approve this?

Hey, I didn't say I didn't want to be submissive anymore, I said I didn't want to be a sub to YOU. 

I draped the bikini pieces over each of his shoulders and went home. 

I see red.

I wasn't sleeping, I was just lying facedown on the chaise under the umbrella. In my bikini, which is getting worn out on the bum as is always the case. It's dark green and plain and my towel matches. I have a headache. I'm about to drag myself back across the lawn to my own house to maybe try and actually sleep for an hour when I feel lips against my shoulder and a hand land on the back of my head.

Neamhchiontach. Are you awake?

I shake my head but otherwise I don't move.

Why don't you come inside for a drink and cool off?

Caleb got central air. I'm jealous. Our house is oppressive in places and I have kept the curtains closed for days now but that reminds me of the time Jake left and I didn't want to see any light at all so I can't be inside. I could spring for the central air but it's usually only two weeks worth of weather cumulatively each year so it seems like such a waste. Also I have a theory that if you never manage to tolerate anything you'll always be miserable.

On the other hand, well, here I am with headaches and nausea and extreme crankiness.

He moves his hand from my head, tracing his fingers down my spine and I shiver because that's what I do. Of course he mistakes that for interest and slides his hand down over my thigh.

I hear Loch swear (record time getting across the backyard) and I look up but Caleb doesn't move.

Loch says a whole host of lovely things to him in Gaelic and I cringe. They're going to drown each other before June is over.

I roll over onto my back and look up at Caleb with a smile. Diabhal-

He puts his hands up. It was just a suggestion. I'm trying to do things to help make you comfortable in this heat. He smiles down at me as if Lochlan isn't even there.

Except that he is and he's now beside us and he shoves Caleb right into the pool.

I'll admit, it's not nearly as frightening as when he's tackled Caleb and they've gone over the cliff. One of these days they're going to bounce off the face of it and not survive. So this is child's play. I roll back over and put my head down. I just need to lie still and then I'm not too hot.

I hear Caleb get out but Lochlan's already gone back to the house. He doesn't mind the heat. Never has, never will. And frankly I don't blame him for pushing Caleb into the pool to break whatever spell he was trying to cast over me. Caleb should know better but he can't seem to help himself and has been cornering me every chance he gets.

Did you have your phone on you?

Yes, Bridget. I always seem to.

You should leave it inside. 

I'll bear it in mind. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

If I just stay in bed I don't have to acknowledge the fact that the Canucks just traded the best thing that ever happened to them to the Hurricanes.

Right?

Mr. Benning! Please quit while you're ahead. Wait, you know what? Nevermind. You passed on Lucic yesterday. Obviously we are not on the same page here!

Stomach in 'nauts.

I feel a little bit fragile today, seeing as how there have been five voicemails (and now the space is full) and twenty-eight missed calls from Ben. There are 312 messages from him and I haven't even woken up yet. Today is the first day where someone doesn't have to get up and leave for an exam or to pick up a mark or a report card or a locker-contents. And so I didn't rush so much. I bribed PJ heavily to let the dog out and back in and my plan is to burst into flames from the heat. It's so hot out the air feels like lava to me and I don't want to move.

Maybe the heat was what led the US to finally legalize marriage for all, across the board. Something that feels like old news as we achieved this a decade ago here in Canada and I am so happy that the rest of the continent is finally on board. Congratulations. There's a whole lot more I could say on this but it doesn't matter anymore. Love won.

Love is the best.

As long as it goes well, I mean. And even if it doesn't, well, it's still the most important thing.

It goes well for some of us. One of the selfish joys of polyandry for me is that I have backup love. If something isn't going well in one area it's usually going well in another. Last night after the awful call with Ben, it was late so we went to bed. I fell asleep with my hands up by my chin and my face tucked in under Lochlan's chin, his arms tight around me, forcing my heart up into my head where it ate my brain so that my brain couldn't continue to lie there awake plotting sabotage or mutiny or worse.

When I woke up the same way I could face the morning. Loch has a neat way of convincing me it actually is a new day and that things will be better. He does it without words though, and he's mighty stingy with it. I opened my eyes and his face tightened up. He's smiling but I can't see him, only his neck.

You're awake. 

Mm. It's Friday. 

It is Friday. He squeezes me hard against his chest. What would you like for breakfast? 

A banana. 

And? 

Some juice. 

Okay. I'll be right back. Don't move. 

Breakfast in bed? 

Why not? We're not in a rush. 

Will you bring enough for both of us?

Of course. 

I smiled and closed my eyes again as cooler air rushed in to fill his space and fell back asleep. When I woke up next Loch was pointing a banana at my face.

Wakey Pea-naut. 

Pea-naut? Hahahaha.

Why 'naut? Fill up that 'space'.  

Oh my God, the puns. But if it's a galactic breakfast I see no butter. 

I ate it. I brought this up half an hour ago. 

Why didn't you wake me up?

I just did! Eat your banana, you lazy little thing. 

If you slept the way I did you'd never want to get up either. 

He grins.

http://www.cbc.ca/news/trending/pee-chlorine-red-eyes-swimming-pools-cdc-1.3127865

Wow. THANKS DUNCAN.

They just levelled a total open fire ban on the province, which includes campfires and fireworks. Lochlan had already smartly stored his torches, away and clean in the garage until the fall because the grass is crunchy and brown. He still has magic up his sleeves, however. Always. He can still juggle fishbowls or ice cream cones or open beer bottles without spilling a drop so he will chip away at maintaining his odd skillset without a break and if he gets bored with that he's already unicycled the circumference of the new pool a few times as we ran to keep up and tried to push him in.

Maybe it's a good thing it's not saltwater. Unicycles aren't something you can buy at Wal-mart. If you can then it isn't a very good one. They should be exceedingly light and made of good quality parts.

No one would let me have a turn at navigating the edge of the pool. Loch said if I fell the wrong way and cracked my head open on the pavement he would never forgive himself. This said as Caleb was saying Absolutely not! in his perfect End Of Discussion voice that almost drowned out everything else.

I'm surprised I'm allowed over there at all. I actually haven't been allowed to be there alone yet. I asked if we were keeping a buddy rule for it and that it was a good idea but they shrugged and said no, not really. Duncan has been living there mostly since it was finished and he swims alone all the time.

So the rule is just for the children. PJ said anyone under six feet tall qualifies as a kid here. Lochlan (5'9") asked what the fuck? and I wondered aloud how will we account for Ben when he comes back as he's the biggest kid of all and yet he is 6'4" and change. He'll be cannonballing into that pool until Christmas, until chlorine kills the grass twenty feet out from the edge and he won't even bat an eye.

He's already excited. I talked to him this morning. He forwarded another list of perfectly clean drug test results and some cheesy videos of him and some of the other guys sitting around watching chick movies and reciting the lines from the movies in tandem with the characters.

In return I sent him a video of me losing a burping contest with John, one of the kids reading their report card results in goofy accents and making their excuses, one of Loch juggling emptying wine glasses full of spare change instead of putting them away as he emptied the dishwasher one night. And then one of PJ screaming like a girl on the waverunner just to make us laugh. He can hold the note for at least two minutes straight. I lose my shit every time laughing.

Ben did too. It was great. He watched them all through on his phone while I watched his face on Skype on his laptop and then he looked at the floor for a while before telling me he missed being home.

Then come home, goofball. Use your out. Pack it in. You have a replacement. Take him up on it. 

I don't want to disappoint everyone. 

But it's cool to do it to us. I get it. 

Bridge-

I gotta go. Need to find a buddy so I can swim. Harder than it should be but they're all busy. 

Bridget-

Bye Ben. Talk to you soon. 

No love-yous, no don't-gos, no nothing.

Once school is out for the summer we're really going to have to learn to behave.

Chlorine and I don't get along. The instant rash and bloodshot eyes were the earliest giveaways and now the pool has been cycled through with the levels of chemicals lowered. I asked if it could be changed to saltwater, as that should have been the obvious choice, but Caleb said the poured concrete around the pool would fall apart faster than one of my love affairs.

Only yours, I said, because I was stung and caught by surprise. We got into a match of words and wills right there and then in front of the pool guy and wow, he got an earful. I apologized later and sent flowers to atone for his discomfort and our poor manners.

Over lunch Lochlan decided to dredge the whole thing up again, reminding Caleb that I have frighteningly sensitive skin and Caleb sat gripping the sides of the table, listening. He finally looked at Loch (who didn't seem to want to stop) with a withered expression and said, It's not like I pushed her in. 

She doesn't know any better! Loch told him and at least five of us at the table rolled our eyes. I spoke sharply to Loch to snap him back to the present. He focused on me and and said, Still! Who's going to be able to stay out of a brand-new pool?! The kids will have the same issues she did. I'm surprised this wasn't considered. 

I will be accountable for myself, Locket. 

First world problems, Duncan says to no one in particular but when I meet his eyes he winks at me.

Race you to the deep end. I challenge him and he stuffs the remainder of his sandwich into his face and jumps up, emptying his pockets and kicking his chair backwards at the same time. I leap to my feet and he is off and running.

I sit back down and take a sip of my tea.

This works far more often than he will care to admit but it's also a great way to divert attention from the sudden urge to flip a table. Caleb got up and cleared his own dishes without a word and Loch flung his arm over the back of my chair and decided he had said enough.

PJ asked Dalton if he could run a couple towels out to his brother. Once Duncan realizes no one else is coming (whether it's into the pool or off the cliff) he will make his way back to the house slowly, stripping out of his wet clothes as he goes. He will stroll into the house buck-naked and greet every single one of us individually and at length. He will wave his manlier body part around in people's faces or hit them in the back with it. They hate it. He's so shameless. I've been told to stop tricking him but really I don't mind.

And an A+ for my meandering exactitude (answering some questions from the week. Email is in profile, as ever.)

For those asking, no, we're not going to invoke all of the paperwork Ben left for me just in case and run off and marry each other. I already told everyone, including Lochlan that my intentions are to wait for Ben. That hasn't changed. I broke up with Caleb to simplify and better my life, keep it healthier and more transparent, not because there's any grand plans to fulfill the daydreams of a little girl who maybe grew up just enough to see that sometimes dreams change.

This little girl is happiest with two. I love Lochlan but I love Ben too and as much as it's unconventional and seemingly more complicated than it ought to be, I don't plan on changing a thing.

I will admit I am addicted to falling in love. Who wouldn't be? It's the best feeling in the world, and Lochlan and I seem to have it down to a science. We never fall out of love, exactly, we just get horribly discombobulated and disconnected, disenchanted and disenfranchised with each other and then we find peace and fall hard all over again.

It could be worse. It can always be worse. Let us have this.

^ Right there.

That's why I had to leave Caleb, though if you ask him, I have done nothing of the sort. He is enjoying his denial so much I have five grey envelopes here for the past five nights. I opened none of them. If need be I'll forward them to the lawyers or maybe the mediator but I'm trying to give him latitude to be disappointed. I fucked him over good and he's angry and sad and as I already said he is lonely. I finally realized it's not my problem to fix. I also realized that I enjoyed our cat and mouse game too much, it brought me a sick sort of pleasure in being able to indulge fantasies with him that no one else will permit. That's a release I might miss, though August calls it conditioning and says it can be helped, that it just takes time, and I'm so frustratingly impatient.

(But what if I can't fix it? What if I'm just weird? I cried to August one day and he said I promise you you're not. You just figured out a way to survive it. You were too young to have created a preference and so he did it for you. I was sad for myself after that. August was downright horrified.)

Lochlan understands why I won't leave Ben, why I'm keeping the three of us together. And in my rightside-up moments I understand why Ben went. And why he left all that paperwork in case I got angry with him and gave up. And if it was a test after all this, then I'm going to pass with flying colors.

Will the faithful be rewarded
When we come to the end
Will I miss the final warning
From the lie that I have lived
Is there anybody calling
I can see the soul within
And I am not worthy
I am not worthy of this

Right now it's three in the morning. I open my eyes as Lochlan's hand slides down my face and wraps around my back to pull me into his arms. He's not even awake, he's in the sweet place in life when you don't know your dreams aren't real. Once he can get his left arm fully around me to hold me close he climbs over me. Oh, he's awake now, right hand curious and alert as his lips land against mine. I pull him down and we start to move. In reverse, starting slowly instead of crazy-fast like we usually do, out of breath, in a rush.

He builds up gradually until we're at speed and then changes direction again. More pressure, slower even than before, holding me down with one wrist pinned against the quilt. His mouth is open, lower lip slack, eyes watching me in the dark. He bends his head down and kisses me like he used to. I don't even fight for breath. This is great. I can die right here. But no, he still has other plans for me.

He scoops me up closer to him and begins to move faster and harder. I slide my hands up into his hair and he pulls away again and smiles at me. Then he gets up and flips me over onto my stomach and resumes the faster cadence, holding both my hands tightly in his left hand, over my head, his face right there above my shoulder, his mouth warm against my hair. He makes the most glorious sound and then slows to a agonizing crawl before stopping. He lets go and turns me back tightly into his right arm this time as we lie there staring at each other in the dark.

*

I can't write this stuff properly. It comes out sounding like a poorly-executed romance novel and yet when I do try to write about it it's because it was particularly profound or singularly significant. There's no way to convey it but I try anyway. It's been just me and him in the big bed for months and last night was the first night that I didn't feel the stinging cold absence of Benjamin shrouding everything like a miserable fog.