Dozing this morning in the fog, eyes closed against the half-light, cool and perfectly comfortable with a breeze on my face from the window above the bed and the warmth of his arm around the back of my neck, his fingers smoothing my bangs away from my forehead periodically. Just as I fall asleep they dance across my skull and I am pulled out of an endless, meandering dream in which I am rowing a boat across a lake so chockful of lilies I can't gain any speed but it's also so beautiful it takes my breath away.
(I did that once. Sometimes memories masquerade as dreams. I love my brain when that happens.)
I have to go get ready, Diabhal.
Church is probably over. You can listen to it this afternoon.
The kids and I are getting vaccinated.
On a Sunday?
Yes.
Need a driver?
Have one. Lochlan's taking us.
Ah. Then I'll be here when you get back.
Okay. I kiss his cheek and he grabs for me as I escape his embrace.