Multiple trips to the grocery store, hunting for the perfect squash in the farmer's market, discussions with the apple lady about which apples are good for cooking, a day spent chopping and dicing and cooking and baking, a turkey made to order from the local butcher, friends arriving with wine and salads and dessert, warmth, humor, conversation, laughter, stories, discussions, satiation.
The candles finally burned low, the dishes were put away into the washer, everything was saran wrapped and bundled into the fridge. Friends helping out with the crumbs on the table. Stubborn pots soaking in the sink. Shoes on, scarves on, coats on. Kiss on the cheek goodbyes.
We clicked off the lights one by one. Exhausted, satiated, full of food and happiness and wine, together in the cozy darkness. "It feels like we're playing house." "Yea. Yea it does."
And the unvoiced question: is that all?
And the unvoiced answer: maybe more.