I eat strawberries and cream and sit at the big oak table with my friend, and we talk about nostalgic things, like having children, not having children, commitments. We share feelings about choices we have made. Ones we would remake, ones we might rethink. Our husbands are listening to the news in the next room and my boys are upstairs putting on sleeping clothes and tucking themselves into bed. We all are paired up and finding out things about each other, and ourselves.
And now a plan for our return to real life. Hotels, mountain passes, responsibilities. All of these things waiting for us. And I sleep.