Work of art on two hinged panelsJulia had cleared up any evidence of stray crumbs in the kitchen, and I again experienced gratitude at the seamless way she meshed with my life. We ate in companionable silence, her considered trip to the supermarket providing a feast. I loaded the dishwasher while she sipped a mug of fruit tea. Frustration seized my fingers and turned them into fists when the gate buzzer sounded from the lobby. Julia jumped, and I hated the visitor just because of her frightened reaction.
“Who’s that?” she demanded, wiping spilled pink liquid from her wrist.
“Just someone at the gate.” I showed no intention to answer the second round of buzzing and she moved before I could tell her I always ignored it. The susurrations of her white dress created a soothing whisper across
