Free Now & Again by E. A. Fournier

the outside or toward Leah? A blink and a wider stare revealed a second pillow nearby and an empty place in the bed.
Empty place?
Startled, he sucked in air, sat up and stared at the vacant half of the mattress. His mind whirled with fear and regret. “Leah?”
    He scanned the bedroom trying not to panic. “Leah?”
    The bedroom door opened quietly and Leah breezed in wearing a bathrobe. She smiled at him. “Didn’t know you were awake.”
    Kendall drank in the sight of her and tried to swallow his emotional turmoil. “Where…ah, where were you?”
    “I slept in the guest room.” She came and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. “You started really snoring when you came back to bed. I guess
somebody
decided not to wear his mask.” She looked at Kendall with concern. He was holding tight to her hand. “Hey, you okay?”
    “Just a bad dream and…my throat is sore.”
    Leah grinned at him. “I shouldn’t wonder!” She suddenly closed her eyes and made huge comical snorting noises through her nose and throat.
    “Oh c’mon!” He poked her in the side and she jumped with a squeal. “It can’t be that bad!” He laughed and put on a glum look. “Besides, it’s not like I do it on purpose.”
    “I know, dear. So, want to tell me about the nightmare?”
    “It wasn’t a nightmare, exactly, it was just…I thought I’d lost you and then, when I woke up, I wasn’t sure it was a dream.” He wrapped a protective arm around her and pulled her close.
    Leah touched his cheek. “Did you find me again?”
    Kendall nodded. “When you came through the door just now.”
    “That’s sweet.”
    He nuzzled her neck. “A nightmare with a happy ending.”
    Leah daintily unwrapped his arm as she got to her feet. “Oh no you don’t! I know how this story goes. I don’t have time for your
happy endings
– I’ve got things to do today.”
    She quickly dug through a few drawers in her dresser and grabbed clothes on her way to the bathroom. “I get the shower first, okay?”
    Kendall smiled. “Do I have a choice?”
    Her cheery voice came from behind the closed door. “No. I’m just being polite. I’m always first because you always like to go downstairs and make your coffee, right?”
    “What if I wanted to change things this morning?”
    The bathroom door clicked into a locked position. “Not this morning! Go make your coffee, dear.”
    But he didn’t leave the room. He sat motionless and enjoyed the simple sounds of his wife getting ready for the day. Was this one of the advantages of multiple memories? Did the part that so hungered for a return to these lost, everyday things, instruct the other parts to shut-up and revel in what they had? He didn’t care about the explanation. He just knew that he enjoyed all the small sounds this morning: her brushing her teeth, the shower coming on, her feet splashing, the water going off, the tiny squeal of the squeegee that she used to keep the doors from streaking, the towel in her hair, the slither of cloth over skin, the hair dryer and the brushes, and all the little precious noises of a shared life.
    He got up and slid into his bathrobe, and quietly went downstairs, lest she discovered him listening and wondered what was wrong.
    * * *
    He was sitting at the kitchen table sipping his first cup of freshly brewed coffee when she came in.
    “Well, don’t you look all relaxed?”
    He smiled at her. “What’s wrong with that?”
    “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m just surprised is all.” Leah measured water into a small pan and pulled together the fixings for oatmeal. “I figured you’d already be calling the insurance company about your truck and talking to the police and letting work know what happened and – I don’t know, things like that.”
    “What’re you doin’ today?”
    Leah set the pan on the burner and measured out the dry oats. “I want to get things ready for winter. I have to clean out the flower beds, take out the annuals, store the