She wandered into my boutique at five minutes before six in the evening on the very day that I had made the fateful, frightening and excruciatingly painful decision to sell my business and move across the country. Tapping on her wristwatch she motioned her inquiry as to whether I was getting ready to close. I was, but opted to shake my head no and gesture her in. She hesitated.
“Are you sure?” she asked in a distinctive foreign accent. “Yes, please do come in, browse around, I’m in no hurry,” I assured her.
I tried to pretend the redness in my eyes was not remnants of tears and the hurt in my expression was not telltale of my aching heart.
I cannot say for certain what was said between us in the minutes following. All I know is that, soon after entering the shop, she was there right in front of me at the counter, and we were engaged in an exchange of thoughts and emotions which I shall never forget.