and then we rested.

So Charles brought me coffee in bed in the morning. Very sweet of him. He forgot, though, that Saturday is a no-carbs-day for me and put a madeleine on the tray. When he wasn’t looking, I wrapped the madeleine in a napkin and put it under my pillow. Will be nice to have it first thing tomorrow morning, I thought. […] And then we stood for a long time in front of the grave, as we usually do, in silence. Staring at the bright limestone, even brighter today than usual because of the morning sun. I don’t know what Charles was thinking as we stood there and I never asked. I wasn’t thinking of anything. But I noticed that his tic came on while standing in front of the grave. His little finger started shaking. I hoped it was only a tic. It was nice at the cemetery: they hadn’t yet cleared the fallen leaves, so we walked on a thick rusty-brown carpet among the tombstones. […] And then the afternoon was marvelous. We had a snack at the harbour and then sat in a café across the port. Not much was happening there, the sailing boats were covered for the winter. Many seagulls though, waiting for the fishing boats to return. Charles and I were quiet. The way I like it. He excused himself at one point, said he needed pick up some document from a client, and then he returned with a gift box. A present for me. A lovely bracelet, with a tiny gem in it. Nothing expensive, but I loved it. I put it on, and he hugged me, held me close and tight and whispered sweet things in my ear. I may have blushed. We had an excellent day. (I think.)