I woke up with Seth curled around me. As nice as that felt it wasn't enough to scare off the nightmare images that stuck in my mind. I carefully untangled myself from him, heard him murmur unhappily in his sleep when I gently pulled away. I found myself reaching forward, gently pushing some of his unruly curls back off his forhead. Even with that small touch he responded, leaning into it.

I yanked my hand back, jealous or angry or something. I had to get out of there even more badly than when I woke up.

I went outside and was a little surprised by how cool it was, it still is. Not really sure how long I've been out here but it feels like awhile. There's no cushion on the chair and the metal hasn't warmed at all. Kirsten has finally given up telling me I don't need to bring them in every night. She said it rarely rains and even if they do get wrecked up she'll just get a new set. But I still bring them into the pool house when I head in for the night. Old habits dies hard, you know.

My mom, when she used to get angry and had too much to drink, would start some kind of frantic cleaning. She'd look for stuff to move or sweep or whatever. It was pretty much the only time she ever tried to clean and enevitably something would end up broken. The next day she'd be mad about that and ask why I didn't stop her. So I started picking everything up and straightening things so there'd be nothing for her to "clean" when she went into that mode. Worst was she'd always be yelling and asking me questions like, "Why's it that way, Ryan?" and "What'd I ever do to deserve this?" I never knew what to tell her, even when I got older. I guess I still wouldn't, even now.

When I was five we had this old patio set. Well, not really a set, more like several mismatched chairs and a cracked plastic table. Well mom finally got enough extra money together to buy some cushions for it. She was so proud of how nice it looked, which really wasn't that great but at least it looked like the chairs almost matched. She wouldn't let Trey and me bring and drinks or food around them and nearly bit off dad's head for spilling half a beer on one once. It was one of the few times he'd backed down, later telling me never to get between a woman and her kids or chair cushions.

Looking across the yard at the poolhouse I think of it's occupant and how I really didn=t take his advice. I might be taking care of Kirsten's cushions but I know I=m right between her and her son. Wonder what dad would say now.

I guess I don't really care, I mean he stopped giving me advice a long time ago. Someone in jail probably isn't in the best position to be giving advice anyway.

Damn this chair is cold. I really should have grabbed on of those cushions on my way out. I just wanted to get out of there in a hurry. I still really need my space sometimes. After those dreams I REALLY needed some space.

Today, I guess it's yesterday by now, was pretty bad. Work was bad right from the start. Moving cases of rotten crabs to the trash was nasty and somehow I ended up with every angry customer there was. Having to work an unexpected double shift didn't help matters any either. And to top it all off Mrs. Cullan, a grandmother looking type, regular who insisted to grabbing his ass every chance she got, came in.

By the time I got home I really just wanted to crash. For once I wasn't really happy to open the door and find Seth on the otherside, obviously looking to mess around. I can see it in his eyes, every time. Normally it's a hell of a turn on, especially when he shoots me that look across the dinner table. But tonight, it just ... no, I really wasn't impressed. But Seth still looked so unsure when he asked me if I was mad that he was in there. It's like sometimes he gets that look and I think he really believes I'm just going to turn around and ... I don't know, tell him to get lost. I think too many people must have done that to him before...

unfinished

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