She lay on her side and let her body relax until she felt as if she were floating, until she could almost feel the inch-deep cushion of air between herself and the mattress. Then her mind grew still, and she waited, and during this peace, this waiting, her body sent messages to her. She would notice a slight stiffness in her hip and know that she needed to stretch more; a swelling in her fingers told her she had eaten too much salt; soreness in her breasts said that her period was coming. Sometimes she would simply notice a part of her body, there would be no specific message, just a noticing, and she believed that was a warning of injury and so for the next few days she would be careful. Then after she had heard from her body, she went to sleep. But tonight she was lying on her back, and she was thinking of Jack. Jack was also lying on his back, also alone in a single bed, but he was not thinking of Amy. He was deliberately, determinedly not thinking of Amy. He thought about the roof over the woodshed; it looked like it needed some new shingles.
