A Life With You

By Roy Miller

A Life With You details the small moments of life as lived with a partner. Running out of gas, going for a walk around the neighborhood or water fights in the kitchen, the little things are the glue that keep us together over the years and this collection of vignettes aims to rekindle some memories. Read it with a partner and discuss it together if you can, or use your imagination to paint the image of your perfect match. A Life With You is a reminder that our lives aren't measured in milestones, but in the time between.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roy Miller
• Release date: Feb 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483545080

Roy Miller

Roy Miller is a Midwestern cinema lover and book fiend residing in Michigan. His work has appeared in Potluck Magazine, Down in the Dirt and Through The Gaps, among others. He also is a contributing editorial writer for his local newspaper.

Book preview

One

It's late October and the nights are getting colder. But it doesn't bother you, since you get to rotate your collection of hoodies and wear a new one each day. Today is the dark brown one with knots at the ends of the drawstrings. Charlie Brown is on TV at a low volume. It's The Great Pumpkin special, and you smile at the same points you always have while you pull cinnamon rolls out of the oven. I head into the living room, turn the dial for the lights down a bit and set up a nest of blankets and pillows on the couch. That couch was the first thing we bought together as a couple, and I wonder if somehow, when the furniture that couples buy together deteriorates, the wear-and-tear of the fabric is a reflection of the relationship. If that was the case, we wouldn't have to buy furniture ever again. You finish frosting your creations and bring one out with you, casually scraping some of the sticky topping off of your thumb with your teeth. We lean into each other and watch the pastels of the autumn sky fade into stars, my fingers absent-mindedly playing with your hair.

Two

Spring. The rainy weather has had you down for a couple of days, so when it finally clears up I pack a picnic on your day off. I put on the blue shirt you always tell me you like, then get the car ready before waking you up with the surprise. You say you still aren't up for it and roll over, your breath slowing instantly as you fall back asleep. Disheartened, I leave the room without saying anything and unpack the picnic basket, placing the containers of fresh watermelon and strawberries into the refrigerator. With nothing else to do but let you rest, I lie on the couch and watch a movie. A few hours later you stalk from the bedroom to the bathroom, stopping momentarily on the way back to apologize to me for not being yourself lately. Your words are soft and your eyes are gray. I get up and follow you back to our bed where I rub your back and kiss your shoulders until you fall asleep again, letting my fingertips tell you that it's okay, and I'll be here when you get back.

Three

It's the middle of the night and the temperature is still slightly over one hundred degrees. Your skin glistens with humidity despite sitting still in front of the fan. There's a breeze coming in through the window, and even though it's mostly warm air we leave it open just to keep the room from going stagnant. When the heat gets to be too much, we hop in the car and head to the twenty four hour grocery store to pick up your favorite ice cream. One thing we have in common is shopping late at night while the isles are empty, save for the insomniacs and the lovesick like us. We head for the checkout lane, a pint of Ben & Jerry's in each of your hands. The cashier moves slowly and avoids eye contact, and I vaguely remember someone from middle school that had a similar scar on their chin. There's a non-verbal agreement to take the long way home so we can stay in the air-conditioned car for a little bit longer, your hand on my knee and my hand on yours.

Four

I come home early from work on a day you have off, so we decide to go for a walk and get frozen yogurt. On the way, a group of kids on skateboards push past us and one of them runs into you, nearly knocking you over. I yell at the kid to stop but he looks back in fear and pushes harder, and before I can run after him you grab my wrist. His friends laugh and ride away, but a lazy smile on your face shows that you're not mad. You remind me of what I was like as a teenager and slowly the annoyance at the kids' disregard melts away. We get our yogurt and sit on a bench near the water, watching a family of three fly kites in the park. I wonder silently that had you really known me as a teenager, if you would still be sitting next to me.

Five

We haven't spent much time together since last weekend because we've both been busy with work, and been so tired afterward. Quick dinners of sandwiches and whatever else was handy and wouldn't make a mess. In the morning I mention we only have two more days before we can spend quality time lounging around in our underwear, and you kiss me on the cheek before getting dressed. Later that day,