We were approaching my house. I noticed the front gate was wonky and needed repairing.

She opened the front door. “Would you like to come in?” I hesitated. “Just for a minute,” she said.

“If it’s all right with you. I wouldn’t mind a glass of water.”

Inside, she said, “Can I ask … what do you do?”

“I’ve been traveling. Gap year.”

She went into the kitchen and I looked around. Nothing had changed, but everything was slightly different.

My son, now the same age as me, came downstairs and put his head around the door. I almost gave way. It was him I wanted to touch, his hands and face. In the last few years it had become more difficult for us to touch each other. He was embarrassed, or he didn’t like my body. I loved, still, to kiss his cheeks, even if I had to grab him and pull him toward me.

“All right, Mum?” Mike said. “Hello,” he said to me.

I must have been staring.

“My cart broke,” she said.

“Your heart?” he said.

“Cart, you big idiot!”

He came into the room. He looked alert, happy, and healthy. I could see my old self in the way he held himself. I missed me. I missed, too, my pleasure in him, in living close to his life, in knowing what he did and where he went.

I was dismayed to see he was carrying my new laptop, a gorgeous little sliver of light I’d bought just before deciding to become someone else. I had been intending to use it in bed. I had always been attracted to the instruments of my trade. Sometimes, merely buying a new pen or computer was enough to get me back to work.

“That looks good,” I said.

“Yes.” He said to his mother, “I’m borrowing this for a while. I’ll return it before Dad gets back. Have you heard from him?”

“He sent his love,” she called.

“Is that all?” he said. “He won’t mind me borrowing this, then. By the way, happy anniversary. Shame to be on your own.”

“I’ll raise a glass later,” she said.

I said, “Can I ask what anniversary it is?”

“Not my wedding anniversary,” she said, “but the anniversary of the day I met my husband. He’s away on business at the moment, the fool.”

“Why fool?”

“His breathing was painful. He couldn’t walk far. I could see it in his face, but I don’t think he knew how ill he had become. Before he started out on his jaunt across the continent, I had decided we should enjoy the time we had left together. Still, I didn’t want to put him off his pleasures.”

Mike said, “Mum, are you okay? Can I go?”

“Please do.”

He shut the front door.

I asked, “Would you like me to get going, too?”