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In 1971, I got a call early one morning from Linda, the business partner of Jamie. She was crying hysterically but was gradually able to tell me that there had been an accident at the docks and that Jamie's husband had been killed. I was devastated. I thought my heart would burst.

After staring at the wall for several minutes, I realized that I had clients coming soon. I called and, fortunately, was able to reach all of the ones due in that morning. I was able to reschedule them because of a "family emergency."

As I drove to Jamie's home, I really struggled thinking about what to say or how to say it. She had become my best friend and advisor over the last 10 years. This was a tragedy that was just beyond anything I could imagine.

There were several cars in the driveway when I arrived. After knocking, I was allowed entry by a lady I did not know. Jamie saw me and came running. She was crying so hard that her whole body was shaking. She literally threw herself into my arms and we hugged for what seemed like two minutes. We both cried.

As we slowly parted, I used my fingers to wipe the tears from her eyes. She smiled and said, "I knew you would come as soon as you heard. Thank you."

She took my hand and walked me over to meet her father and mother, Robert's parents and several of the brothers and sisters.

I think they were confused since no one had heard of me or knew how I fit into Robert and Jamie's life. They were relieved when Jamie told them I was an old friend and was a barber. They assumed I was Robert's barber.

I stayed only for an hour or so, bid farewell to everyone and walked with Jamie to my car. "Mark, there were only two men in my life who were the source of my happiness. Now one of them is gone. You are the other one. Thank you for being here for me." We hugged and cried again.

The funeral home was packed. A ton of Robert's co-workers and dock management came as well as most of Jamie's customers and their husbands. A few weeks later, I learned that the dock management and the union lawyers negotiated a very large financial settlement for Jamie, which she really deserved.

We continued to talk by phone and she came to the shop just to visit as her schedule allowed. It was a very difficult time of mourning.

About two months or so after the funeral, I called Jamie at her shop and asked if we could have dinner. For all the years that I shaved her, we had never actually had a meal together. Isn't it odd that a man could know every little dimple, crease or mole on her pussy and ass like the back of his hand but did not even know what kind of food she liked?

Jamie accepted. We picked Saturday night and chose a new Italian restaurant that was close. At the appointed hour, I went to her house and she was more than ready. Her new dress was beautiful and it complemented her skin color. Her eyes were as interesting and mischievous as always. I could see that she was recovering. In the car, she was quite talkative and told me all about her business and how well it was doing. Neither of us mentioned Robert as that did not seem to be the time or place.

We had a wonderful meal and chatted about all the little things we could think of. Jamie reached over and took my hand several times as we talked. This continued for two hours through several courses, as only the real Italians know how to serve. The food was delicious and so was the conversation. I dreamed of her all night.

This was followed by three other dates and many phone calls. During this time, I learned many things about Jamie. She was from Oklahoma and grew up on a ranch. Her mother was born in Spain but came to Dallas with her parents. Her grandfather was a petroleum engineer. At least, I know now how she got such beautiful skin.

One afternoon, Jamie called the shop. When I answered, she shocked me by requesting an appointment. Oh shit - has she found someone else? This really hurt; but I confirmed one for the next evening and we said our goodbyes.

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