Music, it seemed, became the backdrop of our neighborhood. At any given time, Mozart or Ravel could be heard wafting over the backyard fences.When my ...ife was at home dying of cancer, she always wanted her window opened just a crack just so she could hear the melodies (no matter how badly they were sometimes performed.)She died in April at the age of twenty-nine. Camelia brought a pan of chicken spaghetti over after the funeral. She sat on the sofa and cried - partly for my loss and partly for. I tossed the blouse into the hamper, leaving just my everyday bra on top, and started working on the fasteners of my slacks. After I stepped out of them, I thought the grey knee-hi nylons looked ridiculous with white bra and bikini panty set, so I draped the slacks over the back of the chair and sat down to remove them. The thin trouser socks fluttered into the laundry basket on top of the blouse. I felt my nipples stiffen, sitting there in my underwear—Emma hadn't moved.I saw her glance over. More

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