The occasional fragrance of Lebanese cooking swirled on the cool breeze from the kebab shop across the road. It looked to be a family business. Mum and the daughters were up front, serving customers and seeing to the salads. The men bustled about backstage, the only ones permitted to shave curls of meat from the giant columns of beef, chicken and lamb slowly turning in the vertical rotisseries. There was something cute about it, I mused. The whole family working together, as opposed to the detached isolation of my own profession. “Feeling hungry?” a smooth, female voice teased over my shoulder. I spun on my heel to see Bree smiling at me. Beaming, I proffered my hand. “Oh, hello. How are you? It’s great to see you again.” “I’m doing good. How about you?” Her handshake was firm, and her smile soft and genuine. She released my grip and swept back the thick tendrils of dark auburn hair which had blown across her face, tucking them behind her ear. Most women in their mid-forties kept. I am alone in this little house by the beach, and I shiver with the chill of winter although it is actually late July. She has only been gone three days and already the color and song fade out of my world. My muse, my sunshine, my eccentric little piece of heaven, snatched away to God knows where…gone. April’s picture sports an impish grin from across the room, a look of pure and simple joy in her eyes. Her hair is dark and wavy, whipping this way and that in the wind. Her blue eyes are barely visible, as they squeeze shut when her round cherub cheeks smile so hard. Everything about her has always been willowy and childlike, even a bit fragile, but not that smile and definitely not that laugh. I love…loved the way she would throw her head back and let out the most unladylike laugh at any moment, uncaring at how inappropriate her timing might be. April is the one woman I have ever known to take every bit of happiness life can offer. She never whined, rarely complained, and I think I.
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