She was Unitarian, and he didn’t know what that meant, and she didn’t mind. He was a Mystery buff, and she didn’t see why that meant watching made-up stuff instead of solving crimes, and that lead to fun disputes and a lot of necking. Working retail made her ankles sore and the soles of her feet growing unbearably hot for hours afterward. Working in the graveyard and unheated funeral parlor left his back and shoulders almost frozen to snapping. After work they lie in the funniest positions on their twin mattress, her feet resting on his spine, soothing each other, a detective movie streaming on the laptop, and something Literary on her Kindle.
They were perfect for each other for thirty-eight years. They were grateful for every minute. Some minutes? Merely in retrospect.