I sneak a peek at him, carefully. He’s doing the paper’s crossword puzzle, like he does every morning. And he’s drinking tea, which is a new thing. I stretch my feet out towards him and know that he will automatically adjust so that they’re resting on his lap. I silently smile. I keep on reading. I have to finish reading these papers before the morning meeting. I sneak another peek. His brow is furrowed and his eyebrows seem to curl up in concentration. There’s no sun out today. Still got six more weeks of winter left. Through the window I can see the elm tree on the other side of the road, towering above all the others, shimmering with late snow. He’s grabbing my right foot now, and muttering something. That’s what he does when he can’t figure out a word. “Greek island…” is all I can make out. I snatch my foot away and kiss him on the cheek when I stand up. “Mykonos”, I say. He barely looks up and snaps his fingers. That was it. Oh the simple things.