She was a pretty girl with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a dazzling smile. I had known her for years, and we had grown up together in mosque, in pra...er hall, her family sitting a few pillars back from mine. She had a large family of seven – typical for a lot of Muslims – and even though she was recently eighteen, she was still living with her parents to help raise the younger children, who ranged from her sixteen year old sister down to the newborn twins. I always felt guilty about the. " Last night was different."He smiled. "It certainly was." His eyes were on me now and his lookbecame thoughtful. "I wish I was a painter, the way you're dressed andwith the hat casting shadows on your face, your smile, the look in youreyes, you are an Impressionist's dream."I started to blush and looked down at the hand still pressing down on myskirt and quietly spoke, "John, will my having the operation make anydifference to the way you feel about me. If it's something that will,I'll cancel. More

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