I couldn't tell if he was mad, upset, happy, confused or what he was. But he reached out and, holding my hands, he said, "If you enjoyed her, I have n... problem with you calling her, and seeing her again.” Then his grin reappeared. “Matter of fact, I would kinda enjoy it myself." I was shocked; could not believe what I was hearing. I took back the slip of paper, stood and walked across the room. Turning to look at him, I said, "Dave, what exactly are you saying? You would want to watch? Wait!” I. Joe! That was his name. I had almost forgotten his name! How many birthdays have passed by now? I have no idea. In my mind, I am suddenly back at home with him. He unscrews the cap and pours two glasses. One for him. One for me. I lift the glass to my lips and I am met by a pungent, peaty medicinal tang. Then the taste. Smouldering, smokey, autumnal sensations spread across my tongue. The sip leaves a burning heat as I swallow. How that memory burns once more! How strange that it should be so. More

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