Roen chuckled. He squared off the cards, set them on the mantel, and glanced in the direction of the stairs. “Do you want to get ready for bed first or shall I?”
“I’ll go. I’m only a little less tired than my children. Will you bring the blankets when you come up? I’ll take the pillow.” She and Roen stooped at the same time to retrieve the items under the side table. Their hands brushed. Lily pretended not to notice and imagined it was the same for him.
Once she was in her room, Lily quickly readied for bed, brushing out her hair and securing it with a ribbon, washing her face at the basin, and brushing her teeth. She removed two thick comforters from the trunk under the windowsill and laid them on the floor between the wardrobe and the bed. She added a quilt and tossed the pillow Roen had used the night before on top. It landed in the middle, which she thought was just as well. He could decide which end he wanted to claim as the head. When she was satisfied that she had done enough for him, Lily lifted the covers on her bed and slid in under them. She left the lamp burning because he would need the light to navigate but it made her feel somehow vulnerable. It helped when she turned away from the lamp and burrowed her head more deeply into her pillow. Still, she couldn’t help listening for him.
It was not possible to know how much time passed before she heard him on the stairs. More than a few minutes, certainly. Less than an hour, probably. Contrary to what she thought was possible, she’d actually fallen asleep. It was his quiet footfalls that roused her. She remained as she was, turned on her side away from the door with her eyes closed.
Roen paused upon entering the room. “You’re awake,” he said. “I thought I’d left it long enough that you’d be sleeping.”
Lily rolled onto her back. Her cheeks puffed as she expelled a long draught of air. Until then, she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. “How did you know?”
“You weren’t breathing. I didn’t figure you for dead so it meant you were playing possum.”
“Oh.”
“Mm-hmm.” His eyes drifted to the neatly laid out comforters and quilt on the floor. He hefted the blankets in his arms. “Where do you want me to put these? I didn’t expect you’d have a bed made for me.”
“Put them on the floor beside your bed for now. You might find that you need them. When the fire in the stove dies, it will get cold in here.”
Roen dropped the stack and nudged the pillow with the toe of his shoe to the far end of the blankets. When he lay down, he would be lying in the same direction as Lily. “Do you want me to turn back the lamp?”
“I left it burning so you wouldn’t stumble around.” She turned her head a fraction in Roen’s direction. He was surveying the room, memorizing the placement of the furniture, she supposed. “You can extinguish it when you like,” she said. “I don’t need it.”
Nodding, Roen opened the wardrobe and removed his nightshirt. He flung it over his shoulder before he turned back the wick in the lamp. Darkness was not absolute. Coals in the corner stove burned hot with a red and orange glow. The light flickered dimly through the grate, throwing objects in the room into dark relief.
Roen sat down on the vacant side of Lily’s bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked when she felt the depression he made in the mattress.
“Taking off my shoes.”
“There are other places you can sit. The chair, for instance.”
“This is more comfortable.”
For you. Lily thought it but refrained from saying it aloud. She rolled on her side again so her back was to him. She flinched as one shoe thumped to the floor, and again as the second one fell. Lily was relieved to know that the rest of his clothing would be removed silently until her imagination provided her with a picture of what she couldn’t hear.
She saw him removing his jacket and laying it over the back of the chair because she suspected he was fastidious that way. He used only one hand to deftly unfasten the buttons on his black wool vest. He would fold it, she thought, and place it on top of the jacket. She fancied him tugging on his stiff collarand then pulling the shirt over his head. It would join his other belongings. She felt the bed shift as he got to his feet and dropped his suspenders and trousers. She wondered if he would kick the trousers into the air and try to catch them before they fell to the floor. Clay did that sometimes; Ham did it less successfully.
In her mind, Roen was wearing a flannel undergarment. She squeezed her eyes tight as if that could prevent her from seeing if he removed it. It didn’t. And he did. She stared at his naked back, the movement of his shoulders and the taut curve of his buttocks as his nightshift fell into place, covering all of his best parts, at least the best parts she was willing to imagine. If she had been able to conceive of him turning around, she decided she would spontaneously combust.
“Are you done yet?” she asked when he sat down on the bed again. She thought he might have chuckled at what she considered a reasonable question.
“Socks,” he said. “I take them off last when the floor’s cold.”
“Are you folding them?”
“Rolling them. Is that a problem?”
“Not if you can teach Clay and Ham to do the same.”
“Done.”
Lily didn’t know if he meant he was finished with his socks or agreeing to teach her boys how to take better care of their clothes. When she felt him move off the bed, she supposed it was the former. She heard the blankets being moved around. He lightly punched the pillow to make it a comfortable place to lay his head. She waited until he was quiet before she said good night. She expected him to return the sentiment. Instead he posed a question.
“What do I do if one of your children comes in?”
Lily sighed. “You’ll think of something. I can’t right now.”
