“Oh my. That really is Mary Poppins’s bag,” Griffin said, already removing his sport coat and shoes.

I pulled it out and went into the bathroom. I took all my clothes off and left them in a small pile on the floor. I put on the shirt. As I emerged from the bathroom, Griffin glanced at me. He resumed his task, then looked at me again. Did he recognize it? It had been such a long time.

“You’re rocking the flannel, Bae.” But he said nothing else. Neither did I. Crawling into the bed, I didn’t tell him that I wore his shirt not only when I was cold or tired, I wore it when I was sad. I wore it when I was happy. I wore it when I needed something I couldn’t quite define. I wore it when I needed to be close to home. The faded blue and green only made it softer. More precious. Sometimes I didn’t need to wear it at all. I just needed to know it was there. It was my most treasured “vintage” item I owned. When I stretched out in the bed, it was as if Wynken, Blynken, and Nod had personally scooped me up in their wooden shoe. I wasn’t sure I actually told Griffin how my vision for the walls went from a watery celery and turned into a diluted honeydew or whether I had traversed into sleep and was still talking.

I had no idea what time it was when I finally woke up. I had the distinct feeling morning had started without me. These “heavenly beds” certainly lived up to their billing.

When I was almost awake, I realized I was in the nook of Griffin’s body, and his arms were wrapped loosely around me. Neither one of us had a notion to move. “You were tired,” Griffin said, still not moving or shifting. “I could tell you looked thinner. You’ve been working too hard.” Nothing was said for a while. Maybe Griffin thought he had chastised me because he added in my ear, “My God, you amaze me, Bae. Can you really comprehend what you pulled off last night? I am so impressed by what you’ve done. By what you’ve become. Your reputation is well deserved. You completely blew me away with your talent.”

Maybe I was still worn out, because I felt tears roll down my face. I didn’t want him to see. I didn’t want Griffin to see my vulnerability. But it is very hard to hide such feelings. Still, we did not move even though the morning was trying to nudge us into action.

“I wanted you to be proud of me,” I whispered.

“You didn’t need to go to New York City and open up a restaurant with a shitty Englishman to do that. I am blown away by who you are.” There was still no movement, just the sound of our breathing. Together. And quite easily, effortlessly really, we came together as we had done after their openings. Sweetly and passionately. Emotions tumbled out in mutual affection. I wish I had been wise enough to commit this to my well of memories.