“EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORN,” JUST LIKE EVERY GIRL HAD HER HEARTACHE
Houston Grill was located in the Uptown Galleria area. Like every dinner time, the aroma of the Charcol grilling flared up all appetites. Hanna and Gigi were sitting at their regular booth. The waiter came over and poured them the Chateauneuf Du Pape from the decanter. The background music was playing:
“Every rose has its thorn,
Just like every night has its dawn,
Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song,
Every rose has its thorn . . .”
Gigi’s eyes seemed far away in the flickering candle light.
“Hello, darling.” Hanna snapped her fingers at Gigi. “You look lost.”
“It’s the song. Brings back lots of memories.”
“Tell me.”
“There was this girl . . .” Gigi was sinking into nostalgia.
“A girl?”
“Candy Cane. I
