I turned to face an elderly woman in an overly-sequined shirt. ‘Oh, hello-‘ Damn, what was her name? ‘… Ma’am! Good to see you as well.’ You can never go wrong with polite recognition of authority. The conversation dragged on from here, as usual. Yes, college was going great. No, I didn’t have a boyfriend. Yes, I think I’ve grown, too! But all I could concentrate on was the man whose eyes I could feel burning my skin. He made me feel so… Uneasy. All I could return to him was a few nervous glances, and occasional stunned eye contact. Until finally, with champagne running through my veins, I marched my wobbly legs right up to the back of my mystery man, prepared myself to tap on his muscular shoulder- and then quickly turned back the other direction, shocked and horrified at my brashness. ‘Excuse me,’ a voice growled next to my ear. The very sound was intoxicating, and I knew it had to be him. ‘Yes?’ I smiled softly as I looked over my shoulder at him. His face was inches away from. ‘How? … How did you ….’ I wanted desperately to defuse this terrible tension. ‘You said her name in your sleep,’ I said as softly as I could. He seemed to think about this for a moment, then accepted it. All the emotion seemed to drain from him in an instant, and he stepped back to the bed and sat down heavily. ‘Why don’t we forget the police?’ I said, trying to placate him. Time enough for the police later. ‘Why don’t you go home to your wife?’ ‘Home?’ he asked. He smiled up at me sadly. ‘No, I’m afraid she isn’t at home.’ ‘She left you?’ I asked. That made sense. She left the asshole! ‘Left me?’ he repeated. He looked as if he might laugh or cry. ‘Yes … yes, she left me,’ he whispered softly. There was infinite sadness in his voice. And suddenly, I knew the answer to at least part of the riddle of this man. With an immediate and total cessation of all anger, I looked at him in an entirely new way. ‘Oh,’ I said softly. ‘She’s dead.’ ‘You look like her!’ he said, looking up,.
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