Rhiwbina Living 62

a summer's
breeze
He watched her from a
distance, sitting on the old,
wooden bench, her gaze
switching between the view of
Niagara Falls and the army of
tourists that had descended upon
her chosen spot.
She had a serenity about her, the
soft smile she offered to passersby
causing many to pause and smile
back. It was as though she was a
moment of quiet for people, as they
navigated the insanity of the area
during summertime.
Watching the breeze play with the
greying strands framing her face,
that same old feeling of familiarity
and warmth squeezed his heart.
She was the one that got away. The
only one to consistently appear in
his thoughts, the hint of promises
that were never fulfilled. And
46
here she was, as though he had
somehow manifested this moment.
“Excuse me. Would you be able to
take a photo for us?”
His reverie was interrupted by a
frazzled looking young mother in
the throes of what appeared to be a
birthday party from hell. There had
to have been eighteen children in
her care, with no other adults to be
found.
“Of course.” He smiled at her. “Why
don’t we go over here where we can
get a bit of the falls in the photo?
I’m Ben, by the way.” He smiled
reassuringly. “Are you handling this
crew all on your own?” he asked. “I
admit, I’m impressed.”
The woman laughed. “My husband
went and broke his leg while
cleaning the gutters yesterday.
Right before our daughter’s already
planned, ready to be epic, party to
beat all birthday parties.”
“Ahh. The old fake cast routine. I’ve
considered it many a time myself.”
She threw her head back and
laughed. “I didn’t think to check.”
As she began to corral the kids
kindly, but firmly into position, she
asked over her shoulder, “Are you
here on your own? I hope I’m not
taking you away from something or
someone important.”
Ben’s eyes crinkled. “This will
take no time at all. Besides, you’re
a damsel in distress and my last
name happens to be Knight.”
She looked him up and down. He
was probably in his fifties if the grey
in his whiskers was anything to go
by. And yes. She could picture him
in chainmail, whisking a woman up
onto his horse away from invaders.