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Wilhelm (pronounced Vill-hem) drops by to see Liz and ends up having a beer with Alex in her absence “Leah told me about how you rescued her from a potential human trafficker, and both sisters speak of you quite fondly. Liz seems to consider you as her template for what a man should be. Have you and Liz ever, er, dated?” Alex asked. “Ach, I suppose sometimes, Leisel and I, we behave like an old married couple,” he said in his thick German accent. “Truth be told, I never date any of my clients. Bad for business.” “Smart man,” Alex said with a grin. “Besides, she terrifies me,” Wilheim said, taking a long pull of his beer. “I imagine that she beheads her partners after sex.” “Does she threaten your life too?” Alex asked, finishing his beer and placing the empty bottle on the table. “No. But then, I’ve never courted her sister, either,” he said, toasting Alex with his beer bottle and grinning. “You are a braver man than I, Herr Turner.”

Leah had just left for work and forgot to latch the inner door to the garage, allowing it to swing open when the outer door opened, resulting in the sound of her exhaust waking Liz abruptly. Still half asleep and jet lagged, she shuffled into the dining room, disheveled, wearing a sleep shirt and fuzzy slippers that had seen better days. “Oh shit,” she muttered, hesitating, as she realized Alex was sitting at the table. “Good morning, Elizabeth.” he said, putting down his coffee cup while she tried to smooth her hair back. She looked much younger without makeup, vulnerable, and Alex felt compelled to do something nice for her. “Would you like me to make you some breakfast?” “Coffee,” she croaked, giving up on her appearance, pulling out a chair and collapsing onto it. “Coming right up,” he said, getting up and making her a coffee with a splash of cream. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow as she took a sip, smiling and closing her eyes as she tipped her head back. He once again

Dinner that evening was a stir-fry over rice, using a Wok Alex had found at the Asian market for a good price, giving him the opportunity to put on a show as he tossed finely cut vegetables and tiny shrimp in the air. The rice was perfect, and the meal appealed to both young women, who made smalltalk about how Alex was going to put Lee Ho Fooks out of business. Dessert was ice cream with ‘langue de chat’ cookies that Alex had made from scratch. Liz studied him from across the table as she bit into one of the cookies, while Leah was babbling about something automotive and Alex listened to her intently, as if she was revealing the greatest wisdom he’d ever encountered. Leah often said that Alex reminded her of Richard Gere in ‘Pretty Woman,’ and she thought to herself that she should watch the movie at some point. Maybe she could find it online. After dinner, Liz watched with her arms crossed as Alex wiped down the walls and counters in the kitchen and put away the Wok in a space he’d

Alex showered, made himself a smoothie with some of Liz’s protein powder, hand-washed the blender, and dressed in his dark grey suit. He had been exercising regularly, and the suit fit him better than when he’d first worn it, as if he filled it out more. He knew he’d put on a few pounds, but in the right places, so he felt better than he had in years. Trying to keep up with Leah was certainly benefiting him health-wise. He’d poured the smoothie into a travel cup, which he brought with him to the car. He drove to the airport and pulled up to the gate, where a bored-looking security guard asked him for some ID. Alex showed him his driver’s license, and the guard said he couldn’t find his name on the list. Alex said he was picking up someone, and needed to meet the plane at the hangar, but he didn’t know which hanger. He gave the guard the tail number for the private jet, which Liz had texted, and the guard said, “Oh, the stealth bird! Yeah, she roosts in number 6.” “Excuse me?” Alex

He picked up his phone and saw nine missed calls and several texts from Leah. Rather than spend time reading the texts, he decided to call her on the office phone line. She answered, “Eternal Beauty, how may I direct your call?” with a slight waver in her receptionist’s voice, which triggered concern in him. “Leah! Is everything okay?” he asked, worried that something terrible had happened. “Alex? Oh thank God! Are you okay?” She sounded both relieved and angry. “I’m fine, I was worried about you. Is everything okay?” “You didn’t answer your phone or my texts! I’ve been trying to reach you since this morning!” she practically shouted. “I was working next door and I didn’t have my phone,” he replied calmly. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” “I thought you were dead! I was already thinking about what I should wear to the funeral!” “I’m sorry,” he said, “I left it in the car and didn’t realize I didn’t have it until just now. I didn’t have time to read your texts, what’s going on?” “Liz bummed

The next morning, Alex woke with a start. He heard what sounded like a herd of horses pounding down the hall upstairs, followed by a loud metallic clang like a metal trash can falling down some stairs. He felt Leah stir sleepily next to him and asked in an urgent whisper, “What was that?” She rolled over and put her arm around him, mumbling, “That’s just Tacha going psycho-kinetic. She missed the turn into the living room.” They heard the cat run down the hall again, pause, and run back again. “What was that tin-can sound?” he asked quietly, holding her while his heartbeat slowly normalized. “The umbrella stand. She tried to turn too sharply and wiped out.” She giggled, and he kissed her forehead. “Why does she do that?” “It’s just something she does sometimes. Our old cat used to do that too, äiti used to say she was chasing away Kuolemanenkeli. “Coolemanwho?” he said, mangling the word. “Kuolemanenkeli; in English we’d say the angel of death, or maybe the grim reaper, I think.” “Well

The outdoor café on rue St-Denis street in Montreal was not as busy as it had been earlier in the day, and would not pick up again until late afternoon as some of the regulars stopped by after work. The two young men were loud and disruptive as they dragged the heavy cast-iron chairs back from the tiny round table. Dressed garishly, with unbuttoned shirts that displayed thick braided-gold chains hiding in raven chest hair, they'd selected their table for its proximity to the attractive blonde, who studiously ignored them. She was reading an enormous leather-bound book and taking notes on a tiny tablet computer. "Hey, mademoiselle!" said the one closest to her, addressing her directly. She glanced up at him, peering over a pair of reading glasses that made her look rather intellectual. The look in her cornflower blue eyes was one of questioning tolerance, but she did not say a word, waiting patiently. After a few moments of awkward silence, the man blurted out, "Whatcha'

“Are you almost done?” she asked from across the dining room table, sounding bored. They had ordered in for dinner, had cleared the table, and Alex was just finishing up his [section removed to avoid spoiler] He had fought in the Korean War, having lied about his age, and been wounded, obtaining a Purple Heart. Alex, also a former soldier wounded in conflict, felt that this was important information to include in the eulogy. “Almost,” he replied, absentmindedly muttering “...valor in combat...” as he typed furiously. “I was thinking...” she said, watching him type quickly with two fingers on his new laptop as she ate fresh cherries from a bowl, popping out the pits into a coffee cup using a cherry-pitter. Alex hadn’t had time to prepare a proper dessert. “Yes?” he said, pausing to watch her as she tilted her head back and popped a pitted cherry into her mouth. She finished chewing and tossed the stem from another cherry into the cup before pitting it. “That day, when I first showed you

As Alex put the suitcases into the trunk, he said with a smile, “No wonder they know your name.” “I’m a regular,” she replied, climbing into the car and unlocking his door with the power door lock. “Are you hungry?” he asked, buckling his seatbelt. “Starved,” she said, grinning at him. “Let me buy you lunch,” he said, and gave her directions to a tiny fast-food shack that she hadn’t seen before, an old camper painted in garish colours, parked in an empty lot with several brightly painted pic-nic tables. They ate steamed hot-dogs with coleslaw and shared a large order of fries, enjoying the fall sunshine. Leah slurped the last of her root beer through a straw, making a loud noise as the empty bottle resonated. Alex took the empty bottle from her and put it, along with his own, into a recycling rack. Leah lay down on the bench seat of the picnic table, exposing her midriff as she stretched, yawned and closed her eyes, her long hair cascading to the ground. Al noticed the young man at the

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said as they were walking home from Saturday morning breakfast at their usual spot. “I’m saying that there is much more depth to Leah than you show the rest of the world, and there’s nothing wrong with that, I get that you’re a private person and don’t want to open up to everyone. But that doesn’t mean you should hide behind your own body and make that your public identity. There’s no harm in being attractive, there are probably more benefits than negatives, but if you make that your defining characteristic, you suppress the real Leah, the one I fell in love with.” “You’re not making sense,” she replied, pouting. “A little while ago, you told me that your breasts were your best feature. I need to challenge you on that, because I disagree...” “My boobs,” she interrupted, crossing her arms. “I never said breasts; I’m not a doctor.” He stopped and looked at her for a moment, his expression neutral. “At some point, your breasts will no longer