The bow touched strings, her notes, I can’t identify the song, but it started out in sorrow, then lightened up.“Your mandolin?”“I’m not that...good, Kara.”“Your mom and dad know YOU. They’re hearing your heart.”“I’ll be back.” I got up, retrieved it.“Chords,” Kara said. “We’ll do chords. Don’t do ‘em for me. Just do ‘em and let your mind go. Remember. Be thankful.”She put bow to string. I let my fingers play familiar basic chords and pickings that I wouldn’t mess up. I remember Mom and Dad being. “It’s for a calendar I’m involved in, for next year. I was just trying it on.” “And you’re stuck?” “Yes, my suspenders are fast in the zip.” “Your…suspenders?” My neighbour had a far away look in his eyes when he said the word ‘suspenders.’ “Yes, I think it’s a bit tight to be honest, what with my boobs and everything.” “Your…boobs.” “Yes! Stop repeating everything I say!” “Sorry Danielle, I’ll just get some pliers. Oh I’m neglecting my manners. Do you want a coffee?” “Yes please.” I waited and. More

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