Cold Coffee

“Baby, take the day off and stay with me.”, she said softly, and I looked down at her lying on the bed. Her eyes were still closed but I thought I noticed just the sleepiest hint of a smile hiding on her lips. It could have been a play of the light. In my own sleepiness, I continued to stand next to the bed and quietly look at her. She was striped in the dim bars of shadows and light cast by the growing sun shining through the window blinds. Just as I was about to dismiss what I heard as nothing more than sleeptalk, she spoke again, “Stay home.” She punctuated her words by stretching her arms out and then she slowly raised them up over her head. The big stretch brought on a big yawn and then the yawn morphed into a big, comfortable smile. I glimpsed her smile as she rolled over into my spot and snuggled back in. Her eyes remained closed. I quietly grabbed my jeans and crept down the hall toward the kitchen.



Halfway down the hall, I paused to slip my jeans on and continued to the kitchen. As I passed our little computer on its stand, I tapped the spacebar to bring the machine out of its ‘sleep mode’. I walked over and set up the coffee maker as quietly as I could and flipped the switch. I returned to the computer and sat down to compose an email to my colleagues. I sat there for a moment, listening to the coffee maker steam and sputter, and I tried to think of a last-minute reason for taking the day off. I decided not to tell a white lie and instead, I wrote:



Team,



I’m sorry for the late notice, but there’s some personal business that I must attend to today. I assure you that everything is fine and we’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow morning. I will have limited access to my email and as you know, my cell phone service has been sketchy for a while now.



Regards,





I scanned the mail for typos and sent it. Once the email was sent, I reached down and powered off the computer. It gave a weak little beep and went silent. "Limited access", indeed. The coffee would be ready in a couple more minutes, so I made my way back to the bedroom. She was still lying in my spot just as she had been when I left. Some of the dimness had already left the room. I walked to the windows and pulled the curtains almost closed and brought the dimness back. I walked back to my side of the bed and sneaked pitifully back into my spot in the bed with her. My front half snuggled happily against her while my back half stuck over the edge of the bed.



“You’re going to fall off, you big dummy.” She said. The sound of sleepiness was mostly gone from her voice and had been replaced by a tone of playfulness. “Ah, playing opossum, are you?” I asked. But her only reply was a little giggle that I actually felt more than I heard. “Nope.” she said, “I heard you come back in. Is that coffee I smell?” and with that, she stretched again and arched in such a way, she was crowding me right off the bed! I almost did fall and I scrabbled trying to grab a handful of sheets and missed! A mere instant before my balance failed and I would have dropped off the bed onto my bottom, she grabbed my arm, wrapped it over her shoulder, and then rolled forward. It was enough to pull me from the brink. One spoon saving another. “Are you trying to kill me?” I laughed as I asked. And again she replied, “Nope.” She has the most adorable habit of giving quick one-word answers anytime she is being playful. It’s almost child-like. You just know there’s more behind her simple answers, but she makes you wonder about it. 



I re-positioned enough until we both fit pretty much into my single spot and I put my head on the pillow behind hers. Lying there in comfortable silence and feeling her warmth, I closed my eyes for a few moments and started to drift back to sleep on the rhythm of her breathing. I was just thinking to myself that I could really go back to sleep for a while when she asked me if I was going to work today or not and I answered, “Nope”, trying to mimic her playfulness. She tuned over in place and looked at me and gave me a happy smile. We laid there face to face for some time, quietly chit-chatting possible options for the day.



She suggested that we could go for a walk and I countered with the idea that maybe there was a good movie playing on TV. “We could go to the zoo.” she said, but I frowned at that idea. Then I suggested that we could get up and cook breakfast and maybe eat on the patio, but she said she wasn't hungry yet. Finally, I said that it didn't matter to me because we had the whole day to ourselves and we could simply take it as it comes. She liked that idea and we agreed that we’d see what happens next. Satisfied we had come to a decision (that really wasn't a decision at all), we laid there and continued to talk about nothing in particular. There is an amazing feeling of freedom sometimes in taking an unexpected day off with no set plans and I was starting to feel it. Then my cell phone rang. I thought, sarcastically, that my sketchy phone service really picked a terrific time to come through.



I got out of bed and purposely dragged the covers from her and carried them with me to my dresser where my I keep my phone overnight. The phone sat there ringing stupidly. It somehow managed to look baleful. I glanced back to my wife, in her shift nightgown. I watched her look down her bare legs at her bare feet and wiggle her toes. She looked at me and giggled. Without another thought, I picked up the phone and powered it off and dropped it carelessly back onto the dresser. I stepped to the foot of the bed and raised the covers above my head behind me, as if I were about to put on a cape. Instead, I climbed onto the bed and walked on my knees, one on either side of her, and then I fell lightly upon her. We no longer saw the light that was coming through the window blinds or the space between the curtains. In the darkness beneath our covers and the fading sleepiness of the morning, it could have been Nighttime or Noon or really or no time at all. The world had dropped away. Deciding to let the day choose the possibilities for us was the right thing to do. It surprised us with passion and laughter; a lot more of that than I think we both may have expected.



And after we emerged from our covers, I watched her pad away down the hall to the kitchen. I closed my eyes and listened to her open the cabinet and I heard the clinking of coffee cups as she brought them down. She called out to me, “Baby, the coffee maker shut off and now the coffee is cold!  I’m going to make some more. Do you still want some too?” And I called back to her that I did and I got up and went to help her while I wondered what the day would choose for us next.