He had today off and rather than write this morning, I make him an offer. Guarantee me time to write this afternoon and we will spend the whole morning together, just the two of us for the first time in six years.
I have a deal and I get misty watching him get misty as he watches the girl get on the bus. He’s had to work and it’s the first he’s seen this amazing feat.
We drop the boy off at preschool together and go for a short hike at a nearby park. We come home and eat eggs, throwing in crumbled up leftover turkey burgers and extra spices.
We still have lots of time so we go to bed (no, not for sex, we’ve already done that once this month and have to pace ourselves, people). 10:30 in the morning and we’re cozied up on the king size, snuggling like we did before kids when we worked evening shift and the mornings were ours.
It’s the same bed. We feel the same with my back to him and his warm body pressed tightly to mine. I almost don’t dare open my eyes for fear we’ll be back in upstate NY not yet having delivered our first born, not having these children, not having learned all these hard lessons along the way. Six moves later, I don’t want to go through it again. It can’t be a dream.
Opening my eyes it’s now, not then. I turn to look at him and his eyes are closed so I study his face. This person who has been nothing but kind all eleven years that I’ve known him. This man who has brought me through the last six exhausting years of labor. We both went into that delivery room and it seems only now we are coming out. Catching our breath.
The alarm is set so I back up to him again and we fall asleep and I stir at the sound of a toy car, activated by the cats in the hallway. He wraps his arms around me more tightly...and we rest.