As we watch the movie, Greg drapes an arm over the back of the couch. It sails clear over the top of Tyler’s head to stretch over my right shoulder. I lean over, easing my son forward a little to get an arm behind him to tuck between himself and his teacher. Greg’s hand strokes my shoulder, then the back of my neck, feathering through my hair. It tickles a little, but at the same time, feels wonderful.
A memory rises unbidden to the surface of my thoughts—Lisa and me in this same spot years ago, Tyler so little, she cradled him in her arms. The warmth of her body alongside mine, the comfort I felt being here, being loved. I missed her, yes, but I hadn’t realized until now how much I missed the intimacy we had shared, connection with another, just being with someone else. Sharing my life w
