He leaned over and kissed her head lightly. He didn’t want to wake her up. She deserved all the sleep she could get. She deserved a nice wake-up, too, to start off her Monday well to counter the horrible way Sunday had ended. He quietly slid out of bed and padded to the kitchen. Moving slowly, in part to remain quiet and in part to avoid increasing the pain in his arms, he started the coffee maker. Before putting away the bag of coffee grounds, he indulged in the pleasure of closing his eyes and breathing deeply, reveling in the fresh, earthy smell. Chastising himself for being selfish when he was supposed to be doing something nice for his beautiful wife, he rolled the bag, pinched it shut, and put the coffee back in the cupboard where it belonged. He wanted to give her something, in addition to the coffee, that would make her smile. But what? He closed his eyes and thought about it. When he opened them, a satisfied grin spread across his face. He had a silly little idea that would likely amuse Reese.
He rummaged through the fridge and found the containers of strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries. Now whistling softly and cheerfully, he grabbed a piece of bread and cut it in half diagonally. He kept one of the diagonal halves as-is but trimmed and shaped the other into a rounded triangle. From the remnants, he fashioned a crescent. Next, he placed the segments of bread together just so, added slices of strawberries for scales, and voila! He had an angel fish, perfect for Reese, his personal angel. He added final artistic touches: a blueberry for an eye, eight for a vertical row of bubbles rising from the fish’s mouth, and raspberries for a rock bed. He tilted his head and considered it. It needed one more thing to complete the effect. He stepped outside, plucked a leaf from the rhododendron bush just off the deck, returned to the kitchen, and cut it into strips to place among the “rocks” as seaweed. He smiled in satisfaction at his creation.
The last thing he wanted to do was to leave a mess, even a small one, for Reese. He put everything away. As he was wiping down the knife he had used for the strawberries, he muttered, “Yeah, this needs to be put away, not left out in the open where you could easily get at it to hurt us.”
Satisfied that the kitchen was once again spotless, he poured a mug of steaming coffee, grabbed the plate with the playful fruity fish, and padded back down the hallway into his bedroom. He set his items on the nightstand, turned off the alarm clock so it wouldn’t obnoxiously jolt Reese from sleep, and slid into bed beside his wife. Ignoring the pain it caused, he pulled Reese close to him and ran his hands up and down her back, caressing her gently to wake her. When she opened her eyes and smiled at him, he no longer cared at all about the pain of his burns. He smiled at her. “Good morning.”
“Morning? I was hoping that you were simply waking me up to tell me that we had six more hours of sleep left.” She rested her forehead against his chest.
“You don’t have to get up, Reese. Why don’t you sleep some more?”
“No. I need to get up. You know the Dominic drill. Hey, do I smell coffee?”
“Oh yeah! I thought you might need a strong wake-up call, so I brewed a pot and brought you a mug.” Isaac rolled over and reached for the coffee. He stopped in mid-grasp when he spotted the plate beside the cup. On the plate was a colorful angel fish made out of fruit and bread. Where did it come from, and how did it get here? He hung his head and sighed.
He felt Reese scoot over to him. She propped herself up on one elbow behind him and flung her other arm over his chest. She poked her head over his shoulder. “So are you going to let me have a sip of that coffee, or are you just being a tease?” Before Isaac could answer, Reese gasped, “What is that?” She wriggled onto her knees and stretched over the top of Isaac to grab the plate. “Isaac! This is amazing! It’s adorable. I still hate that it’s morning already, but this reminds me of why I love to be awake.” She kissed his head. “I love your playful side, and I cherish these fun, random things you surprise me with. You make me feel loved, Isaac, and you remind me that there are always good things in life no matter how bad things can be sometimes.” She locked her gaze onto his. “I love you a lot, you know. When I think of Max, I realize how very lucky we are.” She reached over him again, set the plate down, and returned to kiss him.
As they kissed, he wrapped one arm around her waist and laced the fingers of his other hand through her hair as he tried very hard to hide the fact that he felt physically ill. He loved Reese. He loved her more than anything or anyone in the whole world. But how could she possibly love him as he really was? She had just said that she loved his playful side, but that was terrifying because he didn’t know just what that “playful side” was. She’d said before that she loved various little things he bought for her or did for her, things like this fruit fish creation, things that he never had any recollection of buying or doing. Oh, the fish was indeed creative, and he wished he remembered making it for Reese. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t remember making it. So if Reese loved the man who made it, but that man didn’t remember making it, what did that mean for their love? What if she found out that he was a flake? He was horrible, and here was more proof. Panicked, he pressed his hand more firmly against the back of her head, pulling her closer, and kissed her with increasing passion, as if to pour the intensity of his love into her so she’d know that he meant to be good, not bad.
Initially, their passions fueled each other’s, but suddenly Reese pulled away and flopped back onto her pillow. Isaac exclaimed, “Reese! What’s wrong?”
She covered her face with her hands. “Isaac, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment, but I’m thinking of Max.”
“Well, that’s something a guy always wants to hear from his wife, that she’s thinking of another man.” He plunked down, bouncing ever so slightly as his body settled in beside Reese.
“No. That’s not what I meant! I mean that here we are, enjoying waking each other up, but he’s over there all alone, waking up to no one. His wife left him, and she left their baby, too. He’s alone to deal with it. I feel so bad for him, Isaac.”
Isaac sighed. “Yeah. I do, too.”
Reese turned her head to look at her husband. “What should we do?”
“Just be there for him, I suppose. I think I’ll take today off work. Maybe Max is staying home today, and we can help him sort things out.”
Reese kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good man, Isaac Bittman.”
Ten minutes later, a light blinked on in Max’s house. Fifteen minutes after that, showered, dressed in long sleeves to both protect and hide his burns, Isaac rang Max’s doorbell. A haggard-looking Max, complete with bloodshot eyes, baby spit-up on his shoulder, and holding a fussy Elise, opened the door. When Max just stared at him, Isaac broke the silence. “Hey, Max.”
“Do you need something, Isaac?”
“Yeah. Some eggs.”
“Oh. I don’t know if we…if I…have any. Go look in the fridge.”
“Max! I don’t need eggs. I came to check on you. Reese is making breakfast and wants you to come over.”
“Oh. Tell her thanks, but I can’t. I’m not going to work today, so I don’t need breakfast right now. Plus I haven’t showered, and I have Elise to look after, and…” He bounced Elise absentmindedly as he trailed off.
Isaac reached over and gently took Elise. Ignoring the searing pain Elise’s weight and motion caused his arms, he played with her. He wrinkled his nose and rubbed it on hers, causing her to squeal with delight and yank off his glasses. “Hey, kiddo! Uncle Isaac needs those to see.” With his one free arm, he wrestled them out of her chubby little hands and stuck them back on his face. He looked over at Max to see him simply standing there numbly.
“I