She was dressed beautifully in a very fashionable ensemble, even to a tiny, feathered hat upon the very top of her head, which only accentuated her height. Her hair nudged an impression that I had seen it before when she faced me when she heard me approach. I cried, “Sara, is everything alright? I was just coming to see you. Why did you come?” “Your note said there may be trouble. I sent a crew of my best men where you said, but I was worried if you were in trouble, too. You said you were going to the Marquessa's house, so here I am.” “Oh, honey, you didn't have to, but I'm very glad you did. Thank you Frederick, I know the Marquessa would like to see this lady, so I'll show her there.” Frederick nodded and left, and I took Sara's arm and took her to the glass room. Where I gawked and stared the first time I saw a room like this, Sara took it in stride like she had another just like it in her house. I took her over to where Sadie was seated and said, “Marquessa Montemayor, I would. We got close several times but I always stopped it. As an adult, after we’d drifted apart, I regretted it. And when he died I mourned the missed chance even more. Regret gnawed at my gut now. Sleep finally won out over the memories. When I woke, the bed was a disheveled mess. Usually after a long night at work I would climb into bed and sleep so motionlessly that the covers would look un-slept in. I must have been restless, but I didn’t remember a thing. The sun was dropping past the open window. The house was quiet with the exception of a soft breeze rustling through the curtains. It was a perfect autumn evening. I stretched in front of the window and marveled at the glorious orange and yellows of the huge tree in the side yard. Tears suddenly welled up in my eyes. I was reminded of a picnic. Through the blur of moisture I could see families gathered, children chasing one another, tables laden with potluck offerings. And Kenny and I huddled under a tree, side by side with our backs.
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