“What the heck are you doing?”
“You said you wanted to watch a movie,” I reply as I fling another pillow onto the ground.
“Yeah … is this part of the nesting I’ve been reading about? You’re taking it a little bit too literally, don’t you think?”
I glance down at the pile of pillows and blankets that I’ve been collecting on the floor.
“Haven’t you ever made a pillow fort? It really is the ideal way to watch a movie.”
“A pillow fort.”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
My mouth drops open. “No?”
“Nope.”
“But … it’s like a childhood rite of passage … or something.”
His brows pull together in that familiar frown and he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “My mother never would have allowed me to take apart the couch–orto sit on the floor,” he says quietly.
My heart squeezes for that little boy that missed out on so much. My childhood wasn’t always smiles and rainbows, but my abuela did her best to make up for my crappy parents–to make sure I had lots of good memories to balance out the bad.
I force a smile onto my face. “All the more reason to make one now. You’re going to need to know how to do this so you can build one for our kid when she’s a little bit older.” I make a point of saying ‘she’ in the hopes that our usual quipping will help pull him back from wherever he’s just gone in his head.
“He,” Noah counters with a smirk, and I’m pleased that he’s playing along.
I roll my eyes and yank at the final seat cushion on the couch. “Whatever.”
“So …” he says, gesturing at the arrangement I’ve made on the floor. “You basically just re-make the couch on the ground?” he sounds skeptical.
“Pretty much. As kids we’d build it up a bit more on the sides and put cross pieces over the top so it was like a real little hidden cave … but I’ll spare you that.”
“Thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.
I plop down in the nest I’ve made for us and pat the cushion beside me. He still looks unsure, but he drops down to his knees and then crawls over to join me.
“Oh!” I yell, jumping back to my feet and impressed with my own agility. I know it won’t last much longer.
“What?!” Noah demands, looking alarmed. He’s struggling to climb out of the cocoon he’s sunken into, and I can’t help the giggle that escapes me at the sight. It’s adorable.
He grunts and I wave him off indicating that he should just stay put.
“I just forgot something.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh and settles back against the pillows while I dart into my bedroom, returning a moment later with the huge duvet cover from my bed.
“Is that really necessary?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Who’s the pillow fort expert here?”
“Right. That would be you,” he concedes as I join him once again in our fort. I drape the huge duvet over us and make a point of tucking it in all around us. His breath hitches when I lean over to get his side, but I refrain from meeting his eyes.
It takes us almost twenty minutes to agree on something to watch, but once we do we settle into a comfortable silence. About halfway through the movie, I find myself leaning heavily into Noah. He’s wrapped an arm around behind me and I’m curled comfortably into his side. I swear I don’t even know how or when it happened, but it feels right. Neither of us moves, but I know when he also realizes the position we’re in because he tenses momentarily, then relaxes, taking in a deep breath.
It’s not like we haven’t been sending each other plenty of mixed messages lately.
