It could have been, for that moment I almost believed it was, her mother watching me.
Then teal's welled behind my eyes.
'Hi, Lewis,' she said. 'Looking pretty good for an old fart.'
She stepped towards me on the bare wood floor, one step, then another. Had her mother's easy grace.
'Probably I should have called. But these days I've got in the habit of doing things on a little more personal level. If you want me to leave, I will.'
I shook my head.
'I've been straight a year now. That's what I promised myself: once I made it a year, I'd see you again. I've never forgotten what you did for me, Lewis. I could use a friend. Difference is, now I can be a friend, too. You say the word, though, I'm out of here. I'd understand.'
Mute with the beauty of the world again, with its simple pleasures, I took those three necessary steps and took Alouette in my arms.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
'When I was in the hospital, on the breathing machine, you sat beside me, for hours it seemed, and you told me about when you first met my mom, how much you loved her, and how you'd never been able to tell her that.
'Once I was off crack, then, later, off alcohol, whenever things started getting bad, I'drememberyour sitting there by me, telling me all that. That's what kept me going. I just hoped someone, someday, might love me like that, that I'd be worth it. I saw the way your pain, your sorrow, your sense ofregret got all mixed up with the love you had for her, with your tenderness, all those complicated memories, and I'd think: That's what I've cut myself off from. More than anything else I just wanted to feel again, Lewis.'
'Whatever the cost?' I asked.
'Yes.'
'Welcome back,' I said to Alouette. 'Welcome home.'
