I came home to find Jack standing on our bed, wearing nothing but black pants, rolled up at the ankles. He was stabbing the ceiling with a broomstick, creating a rather large hole in it. Bits of plaster rained down, covering his head and shoulders in white powder. He stabbed harder and harder, chunks of the ceiling falling down onto our bed.
"Jack?" I called out.
He whirled around to face me, grinning largely, his skinny frame tense with excitement.
"Edith!!! I was hoping to finish this before you made it home. Its a surprise!" He gestured towards the massacre that was our ceiling.
"Its a skylight. So you can watch the stars at night from our bed when you can't sleep." He jumped off the bed and put the broom on the floor.
"Instead of going outside and sitting on the porch, you can lay in bed with me, and count them till you fall asleep."
That night, I did watch the stars. Jack lay beside me, breathing softly. He was proud of his work. The stars were more smeared looking than usual, due to the plastic that covered the hole. Jack stapled some around it to keep the bugs out until he could finish.
I secretly hoped he wouldn't. The sky looked like a Monet painting and this was the first time in months that I felt love for Jack.
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