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“The kids in bed?”
Joyce nods, coming to settle in the crook of his shoulder. She looks tired, still half asleep from her nap on the sofa earlier. They’d all been watching a movie together, kids’ choice this week - Star Wars, so it was no wonder Joyce slept through it. She’s not a sci-fi person, he’s noticed. Her interactions with the kids are always colored with a little confusion.
“You okay?” His arm comes up around her shoulder.
She blinks up at him sleepily. “Yeah, you?”
He nods, gaze resting on the dancing flames in the fireplace. It’s only October, but it’s a cold one. The wind whistles against the walls and down the chimney and he’s felt Joyce flinch more than once. None of them like the cold, not after everything that happened.
Suddenly she moves against him, as if to sit up. “I should- I should call Jonathan-”
“Hey, it’s late,” he says, voice low and calming. “You can call him in the morning, right?”
Slowly she sits back, snuggling deeper into his side. The wool of her sweater is warm and soft against him. “I know, I just-”
“You miss him. I get it.”
“Yeah, I mean, he’s at college now. He’s all grown up and I feel like- I don’t know. I’m missing out. I barely know what he’s up to.”
He presses a kiss into her hair, trying to find the words to respond. He doesn’t have any, not really. He never got here with Sara, never got to this weird half-and-half phase. He had her, and then he didn’t. He never saw her growing up away from him.
“It’s stupid, I know he’s gotta live his own life.”
“It’s not stupid,” he insists, with perhaps more vehemence than necessary. “It’s not stupid,” he says again, softer now. She looks up at him with such an open, warm expression it makes him catch his breath. “It’s a natural feeling. I mean, I don’t know, I never- I never got here with Sara. And El- she’s a pretty special case. But the whole overprotective thing- it doesn’t end well. You gotta let them fly the nest eventually.”
She shrugs, a self-deprecating smile on her face. “Yeah, I guess so. Actually, it’s probably easier with Jonathan. He was always independent. When it gets to Will- I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
“What we’re gonna do,” he corrects, and she looks at him gratefully. “I’m here too now, remember?”
“You are,” she says, leaning up to press a light kiss to his lips. He smiles into it.
“Anyway, I have a funny feeling he and El won’t be separating anytime soon. I heard them talking about being roommates at college.”
“How about we cross that bridge when we come to it, huh?” Joyce says, and he has to suppress a look of surprise. Joyce, taking things as they come? Joyce, not worrying about the future? But stranger things have happened, he supposes, as she smirks. “Yeah, I know. I’m trying this whole new thing, it’s called living in the moment.”
“Oh yeah? And how’s that working out for you?”
She laughs unexpectedly. “I’m still working on it. I let Will go with Steve and the kids to that convention thingy in Chicago, didn’t I?”
“You did,” he says, stroking a hand through her hair, “but that was mainly because I offered you such a distracting weekend as recompense.” He leans close and presses a kiss to that tender spot behind her ear and she shivers.
“Should I look forward to more such distractions, then, when we’ve got an empty nest?” She looks at him, eyes dark with something that makes him bite his lip.
“You should,” he responds, and kisses her until he has to stop. “But only when it’s empty. We got two kids in the next room, remember?”
She pouts, eyes still dark with desire, before a yawn splits open her expression and rather ruins the effect. She reaches for her wine on the table, nearly empty, and has a long sip. That’s what she tastes of tonight - wine, and smoke, and home. Her lips are stained purple-red. “We should go to bed,” she groans, shifting to look at him.
He shrugs. “I’m gonna stay here for a bit.”
“Suit yourself,” she responds, and moves so her head is resting on his lap. “I’m not going anywhere, then.”
He’s startled into a laugh, and looks down to see she’s already closed her eyes. Tenderly he weaves his fingers through her hair. “You comfortable there?” he quips, and she nods with a smirk.
He goes back to watching the slowly dying fire, moving his hands absently. After a while of silence - so long he’s sure she’s fallen asleep, her breaths steady and quiet against him - she speaks again, voice barely a whisper. “I love you,” she says, without opening her eyes.
“I love you too.”
Outside the fall night draws in, but inside they’re both miraculously warm.