The morning sun was laying chiaroscuro puzzle work on the remaining spring snow.  Folds of gray and black knocked against the shafts of brilliant yellow breaking light.  I was stretching, looking out the window.  It was early and I'd  checked my phone, wishing for a missed call from the school that would tell me there was work for me.  There was no call, and I was not needed.
    I looked over at Harvey, sleeping soundly in bed, his head cocked to the side, like a lifeless bird.  I smiled and went downstairs to boil water and heat the frying pan for some eggs.  The smell of aged butter being re-heated would waken Harvey and lead him to the kitchen. 
    Sure enough, as I was lifting the lid from the eggs, Harvey appeared.  He put his arms around my waist and sniffed the air emphatically.
    "Ready for breakfast?"  I asked.
    "Am I ready to eat?  That must be a rhetorical question.  But I have to pee first, since you wouldn't let me last night."  He laughed and, letting go, made his way to the bathroom.
    When we were eating the eggs and bacon, I asked what he had meant about me not letting him use the bathroom.
    "I sat up and tried leaving the bed and you grabbed me.  Your grip was vicelike.  You don't remember?  I thought you were going to snap my ribs into splinters."
   "I did not."
   "Yes.  And you said, 'If you leave you're not allowed back in bed.'"
    "You're making this up," I said, incredulous.
   He shook his head and smiled.  He looked very sincere.  "You did."
    "You feel pretty good about yourself, don't you?  Loved and needed.  I hope it boosted your already bloated ego."
   He laughed and shook his head, as if he were being wrongfully accused. 
   "Eat your eggs," I said.  I was embarrassed, but mostly hurt. 
    Harvey put his hand on my arm.  "It was cute," he said.
    "That makes it so much worse," I said.  What I meant was that there were times when it felt appropriate to yell at Harvey, to tell him that he was causing me pain, and that we needed to talk about things.  But instead, I found myself acting like some sort of helpless toy, trying to make myself appear impossible to forget and leave behind.