Jeremiah back in those days.’ She narrowed her violet-blue eyes and frowned slightly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, Jeremiah Turkle. I do remember yo.... Your parents were artists, weren’t they? They had a studio or whatever down by the harbour. I remember your father making brightly-coloured pictures – watercolours, I think.’ ‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘Postcards. I think they were all individually hand-coloured. I was only about eight or nine at the time.’ She nodded again. ‘Jeremiah Turkle. Well, well.’. "Believe me, that's not something I'd wish on anyone, and I'll be fine if you don't think you can. The only thing that would disappoint me is if you make a decision like that out of some sort of misguided obligation or emotionalism. Promise me you won't do that, please Chris, promise."I didn't, couldn't, say a thing. I'd already made up my mind that I'd do whatever I could to see that Cindy had children, my children. I'd daydreamed about what being a single father would be like. I imagined. .. !" I looked down the hill, and here was this short-haired blond standing on her back porch, doing a little "groove", shaking something in her right hand. Huhh? ... I moved closer to the fence, she walked up the hill. BARB had cut her hair, from near shoulder length to just long enough to curl around her ears. The new hairdo had streaks of brown in it, and she was wearing hoop earrings – damn, very sexy! I was laughing, and very impressed with this new LOOK! I pointed both hands toward her. My heart jumped in my chest thinking that he might be there to complain about me peeking through the hedge the night before. My mother called me down where I met Abdullah wearing his trademark, well-fitting gray suit. Even though I was nervous, I couldn’t help myself from checking out his package which nicely filled out the gray slacks. He was there to ask me if I could help him with a task that day. He and his nephew (turned out to be Mustafa) had some meetings and wanted to ask if I could.