From the time they opened their eyes, it had been a blissful day. Once again, snuggled within each other’s arms, Spencer and Kaitlin didn’t utter a single complaint. The sheets weren't peeled back until near noon. They started the day slowly. After the French press had steeped they returned to bed, sipped from their mugs and discussed a plan for the afternoon. Saturdays had always seen them at their best. For a time, it was a joke. They wore themselves to the thread and honestly never really knew their place in the week. Frivolous bliss simply told them it was the still the weekend. It had been some time since all of that loveliness, but somehow they retained the part of themselves that was owned by the other. The coffee began to leave rings on the mugs by the time the couple were finally dressed. There was the buzz of a block party outside. Kaitlin wanted to visit a rummage sale that was at the church next to her apartment. Everyone outside Spencer's home wore the confounded look of a newborn discovering joy. At the sale Kaitlin bought a small vintage purse, Spencer found an old ashtray and a new, more colorful mug; one with no stains. They joked with the young man who cashed out their purchases, and spent no more than a dollar per item. The decision to join the party, or at least look around, was inevitable. So after a quick stop back at Spencer's they continued on looking once more to fill their empty hands. Their hunger to see what was going on in their new world was overwhelming. They snapped pictures of young men with guitars playing on the street, booths where you could pay a quarter to pet a rabbit, and the miscellany of neighborhood pride that poured from every angle. He bought an old typewriter, and she some prints for the kitchen and thermos she couldn't resist. They were ridiculous walking down the drag, carrying their fun finds and grinning like idiots. A few times they crossed the path of a mutual friend, all of whom weren't completely sure to make of seeing them together again. "It's her birthday." became Spencer's pat response. To this, Kaitlin would fight off blushing and bat her eyelashes at the well wishes bestowed on her, as well as Spencer's deflection of the situation. Last Fall had been much more trying. Having, more or less, seen all that the party had to offer--and who was present--they reconvened at Spencer's, picked up Kaitlin's loot and dropped it off at her place. There had been talk about an organic brunch, and this became their aim. Their sunglasses hid the little lines that were forming beside their eyes. Spencer was a terrible at parallel parking and the jokes that arose kept their spirits light. Inside the cafe they were informed that brunch was no longer being served. Instead they opted for sandwiches and a seat in the sunlit herb garden out front. A table away a man sat holding an infant, looking as if he'd had no idea of where it came from, much less what to do with it. Spencer looked on as the man held they baby up by its armpits, its feet dangling to the table. Kaitlin appeared to make no notice of the scene. After their lunch, she asked for a smoke. "Should we ask them first?" Spencer posed. "For what?" "You know, whether or not they're going to mind." "Oh...yeah, that's probably the polite thing to do." "See, I'm not a bad person!" "I know honey." She said before kissing him. "I'll be back in a sec." The father was not offended as the two sat and smoked. They talked more and watched the baby stare back at them emptily. Back in the car he once again ribbed her about possibly making love. Nothing crude, just a simple poke in her direction; but, she still needed to get ready for work. He assured her that they had endless time to do whatever it was they wanted to, it was, after all, still Saturday. He dropped her off at her apartment. Someone had left her a gift on the front porch. They both knew it was another man, but after several consoling kisses he watched her go in and close the door. He too went home, puttered around a bit, and took a nap. They sent each other little messages on the phone for a few hours and the game of "What are the chances I'll see you later?" was played. It was a question that always resulted in a lapsed response from one or the other. Spencer dreamed of the infant during his nap. He supposed its name was Jack; something playful. He saw the years of the child's life pass through the many awkward stages of growing, and he saw Kaitlin wiping its chin and laughing, only to be caught later on the back stoop crying. Spencer saw stuffed animals, and little clothes; a first pair of Converse sneakers, myriad jars of mushed food. He woke up sweating, wondering why Kaitlin had yet to text back. Much had been learned in the six months they'd lived and grown apart. Though there were still many things that had yet to have been discussed; certain topics that were still taboo, they nonetheless tried to be civil. Spencer felt need, took a quick rinse in the shower, and headed back to the party. If there were ever anything to distract him it would be drink and more smiling faces. In only half a block he heard his name being shouted. It was Kevin's girlfriend Lacey. There were children everywhere, even in the dark, braying and playing within their protectors' view. Spencer wondered just what it felt like to be so flippantly vigilant. Kaitlin had yet to respond back, so Kevin and Lacey were his new best bets. The evening continued without incident. Everyone coagulated in the street, later spilled out into the neighboring veins, disguised as bars and side-streets, and everywhere there was life. Spencer had followed his friends into a bar and then lost them. After several calls he put together that he was on his own. Lacey's daughter was with a sitter, and had been since five. They were a wonderful couple, and understood responsibility. Spencer tried to relax when he arrived back home. He poured himself a drink and stretched out on the couch. He flipped through his favorite programs and thumbed through a book of poetry he bought the week before. He checked his phone. He had another drink. He got up and located a small manila envelope he kept in his closet before thinking better of opening it. He thought about last fall, and about what it meant to 'really' love someone. He laid in the bath, and had one more drink before coming out and clicking on the keys of his new typewriter. It was refreshing in a sense. Blearily, he found bed. Eerily, she still had not called or messaged. He thought about the gift that was left on her front porch, and he smoked four cigarettes while searching twitter to try to gain insight about where she could be. At the end of the night he laid down alone. It was getting chilly so the windows had been closed. When he finally closed his eyes all he could see was her holding Jack. Just as she'd done in the earlier dream, Kaitlin glowed. They'd made their decision the fall before. It'd only been about a year. They had never been so changed, and neither knew what was next. Long after he was asleep, Kaitlin messaged to say "I love you" and "I'll be out for a while." On Sunday morning he hopefully remembered how young they both were and who they could’ve become.