He stood at the bedroom doorway watching her sleep, the memories of the night before tumbling around inside his head; the playing, the boundless energy… He watched as she stretched a little, not much, a foot sliding out from under white linen. The barest edge seen, the toes crimping inward. Slightly, slowly, stopped.
He heard the coffee machine gurgle down in the kitchen, signaling that caffeine was at hand. He loitered for another minute, watching, and then turned away, towards his routine and away from the bed. He could see the leaves of the tree outside the hallway window, wet and flapping madly, as he walked by to the stairs leading down to the kitchen. “Rain,” he thought, “great.”
The white ceramic coffee cup had the words and pictures “I (heart) Lucy” written on the side in what looked like blue crayon but it was a decal affixed on the cup 8,000 miles away somewhere in China. He thought briefly of the trip the mug must’ve taken to get all the way from there and into his hand, here, standing in his kitchen. Was it lonely for home? Did it miss the piss-poor mud huts and meals of rice and fetid sewer water?
“I’m in a chipper mood today”, he thought as he sipped his coffee and stared out the dripping window, “really just fucking great”. He cocked his head a bit and could hear the wind bumping under the eaves, looking for a way in, a crack to wiggle through. Like it was searching for a warm place to huddle for a while, to gather its thoughts before going out to blow the roof off the garage.
The coffee cup empty, he laid it on its side in the sink, started to run some water but turned it off. He didn’t want to wait for it to warm up. The clock on the wall, a gift 15 years ago, told him he was running a early, that he had time this morning. He smiled inside, that didn’t happen as often as he liked.
The trek back up the stairs was light and bouncy, the wet leaves outside the hallway window forgotten, the probing fingers of the wind put aside until later. She was still asleep. The white linen cascaded easily and quickly off the bed, he slid in and pushed the sleeping dog off and onto the floor. “Go get in your own bed, Lucy, I’ve got 10 minutes to snooze.”