“So no more freelancing?”

“Not for the moment, no.”

I consider this. “Is this cause for celebration?”

“I think it might be.” A small smile comes to his lips. “But how should we celebrate?”

“Usually I celebrate by reading. But that’s not really very sociable.”

Wally frowns. “I often reward myself after a day of work with a few games of Fortnite. But, like reading, it’s kind of a solitary endeavor.”

We drift into silence as I ponder alternatives for celebration. After a short time, I notice Wally is staring at me. Right at me.

“Staring competition?” I ask eagerly.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could kiss you.”

I giggle. Again. This time I can’t even blame the orgasm.

That night, as we make love, I don’t think about getting pregnant at all. Not once.

* * *

I see him, under the surface of the water. His hair fans around him like a halo. He’s struggling. I hold tighter. Just a little bit longer, I think. It’s almost over.

When I do let go, he is slow to rise to the surface. He’s bloated and unnaturally white. Limp. His eyes and mouth are open.

I jolt awake.

“Fern. Fern! Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

I’m in my room. It’s quiet, as usual, but something is different.

Wally shakes me. “Fern?”

“I’m awake,” I say.

“Are you all right?”

Wally hovers over me. It’s hard to make out his features in the dark room. I nod.

“Are you sure? It sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

“Yes,” I say. “I just have them sometimes.”

Wally lies back down. He scooches up close behind me so we are a pair of crescent moons. He throws an arm over me. The weight and warmth of it is a surprising comfort. I focus on enjoying it, while I steady my breath.

On this night, sleep comes surprisingly fast.

* * *

In the morning, when I open my eyes, I am looking at Wally. His eyes are closed and his long, black eyelashes lightly touch his cheeks. My eyes drift down to his shoulders, his chest. He has a hairy chest, with a freckle just above his left nipple. His body is definitely on the slender slide, particularly his legs, which are dangerously close to skinny. But his arms and chest are shapely and muscular, and I admire them curiously.

Until I lurch upright. “Shoot!”

Wally jolts awake. “What?” He scrambles around the bed, looking for his glasses. “What’s wrong?”

“I slept in!”

He pushes his glasses onto his nose. “What time is it?”

“Seven oh seven A.M.,” I say, scrambling out of bed. I haven’t slept in for years. My body is my alarm clock and it wakes me every morning without fail between 6:10 A.M. and 6:30 A.M. Without fail until now. The fact that my body has failed me is unsettling enough, without the other unsettling things I’m starting to register. Like the fact that I’m dressed in last night’s clothes. Partly dressed. I’m not wearing a top or bra, but my skirt is bunched up around my waist and I am still wearing socks. My skin and teeth feel grimy. It takes me a few moments to realize that not only did I not undress properly before bed, I didn’t brush my teeth or wash my face or apply lotion to my shins or anything. I did none of it! And now it’s after 7:00 A.M.! By now, I should be in downward dog on my yoga mat in the living room.

“You have to go, Wally,” I say.

“Why?” he says, at the same time as there is a knock at the door. His eyebrows rise. “Are you expecting someone?”

“It’s probably my neighbor. She likes to come over and read me the bylaws of our building.”

I locate my bathrobe and wrap it around myself, and Wally heads toward the bathroom. Alfie is at my heels as I fling open the front door. I only have a second to register Rose before she catapults herself into my arms.

“Rose!” I choke. “What…?” Normally, I don’t mind when Rose hugs me, but today there is something strangling about it. “What are you doing here?”

Rose lets me go and I notice she’d managed the hug while balancing a box in one hand. “I missed you!”

Rose pushes past me, into the flat.

“Why are you home early?” I ask, closing the door.

“Aren’t you pleased to see me?” Rose places the box on the table. “Don’t answer that. Just sit down. I brought donuts.”

Rose sets the box on the table and opens the lid, demonstrating that she has indeed brought donuts. It’s odd. Rose doesn’t eat donuts very often, because of her diabetes. I, on the other hand, eat a lot of donuts. Often Gayle brings a box of them in to the library and while everyone else stands around deliberating whether or not to have one, I am happily helping myself to thirds.

“Sit!” Rose repeats.

I look at my watch hesitantly. “I have to go to work, Rose! I’m already late.”

“What time do you have to be at work?”

“Ten. And I haven’t done yoga yet.”

I expect Rose to ask me why, but she is obviously distracted. “It’s just after seven, Fern. You have time to catch up if I drive you to work.”

Reluctantly, I take a seat at the table. The moment I’m seated, the bathroom door opens and Wally comes out.

“Hi there,” he says.

Rose looks at me. She looks so baffled I almost laugh.

“Rose, this is Wally,” I say instead. “Wally, this is my sister, Rose.”

Wally extends his hand. “Good to meet you,” he says. “Though I must point out that my name is in fact Rocco.” He shoots a reprimanding smile at me.

Rose continues to stare at him. It’s strange. Normally Rose is so poised, so polite. She always has the perfect response to everything. Today, she seems like the sister who doesn’t know how to behave.

“Pleased to meet you too, Rocco,” she says finally, taking his outstretched hand. She holds it for longer than appropriate (maximum of three seconds, she’d always told me) and stares at him in a manner I would have considered rude. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

Wally picks up his shoes from beside the door where he’d lined them up neatly the night before. “Not that I recall, but you never know. This world is a small place. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to catch up. Fern, I’ll talk to you later?”