Excerpt:    

 

   Winter finds a café and goes inside. I slip through the doorway as she stands in line to order. I find a table in the back of the café that has a clear view of the entire place. She asks for a cappuccino and a pastry. When she’s finished ordering, she finds a table that’s out of the way and takes a seat. I have a view of her profile. She leaves on her scarf and sunglasses, proving my earlier theory. I wonder if she wants to stay covered to protect her identity as the famous opera singer or to avoid stares because she is unusual looking. I am sure it’s probably a little bit of both.

   She pulls out what looks like a journal and pen. As she enjoys her coffee and breakfast, she writes on the blank pages. Filling it with her thoughts and experiences. I wish I could read it. I want to know her. In every way.

   One of the café employees heads towards my table. I’m sure it is because I don’t have any food or beverages from their establishment in front of me, yet I’m occupying one of their tables. ‘You buy or you leave,’ was written in the kid’s body language.

   I look up from under my hood, and the guy stops in his tracks as he gets a good look at my face. He holds up his hands and backs away slowly, before turning and heading back behind the counter.

   This face comes in handy sometimes.

   Winter finishes her breakfast and sits just staring out the window, deep in thought. Eventually, she gets up and takes her empty dishes to the counter. Something most people don’t usually do. They usually just leave it for the help to clean up. She’s considerate. I catalog another plus about her.

   She must still be in her own world because she forgets her journal and pen sitting on the table and heads for the door. I get up and rush over to the table and grab the two items before anyone else can. I follow her out and down the sidewalk trying to decide how I can go about returning her property to her. Maybe I could just slip them back into her purse when she’s not looking.

   I am only a few steps away from her when I hear her gasp and turn abruptly. She obviously just realized she left her journal and turns to head back. I am not prepared or fast enough, and she collides into my chest, face first.

   “Oh! I’m so sorry.” She says startled, removing her sunglasses after they smash into her face.

   She rubs the bridge of her nose as she looks up at me.

   I hold my breath.

   Her eyes widen slightly, and her next reaction startles me. And it is I who stumbles back this time.

   She smiles. Brightly.

   “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to practically mow you down.” Her speaking voice is just as melodic as her singing.

   I stand there like an idiot and just stare. She shifts awkwardly from foot to foot waiting for me to saying something. Anything!

   Eventually, I remember the journal and pen. I lift them up and then shove the items against her chest. Instinctively, she grabs the journal and pen and looks down at them with a frown. It dawns on her that I followed her to give them back and she looks up in shock.

   “Oh, thank you!” She says gratefully. “I nearly had a heart attack when I realized I’d left them. You’re seriously my hero.”

   My heart was already pounding. At those last four words, it breaks out into a sprint.

   I feel my face turn red. I grunt and then turn on my heel and stride away as quickly as possible without running.

   Only two words repeat themselves in my head over and over again.

   She smiled.