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He's not your ordinary SuperHero.

Her head had come up and she simply said, "Yes." I looked around to see who she was speaking to, but Chris and I where the only ones around. "May I help you.. " Her hazel eyes held mine. There was no fear in them, apprehension, or caution, just a questioning look

"Oh I was just calling my daughter. " She laughed. "What's her name?"

"Christine Marie. "

"Oh I see, my name is Marie Christine, but I go by Christine. " I laughed with her over the mistake, and we started talking. She had recently arrived in Quebec to study at the university, music major, living with her grandmother, to save on expenses. We swapped life stories. Her parents where recently divorced, her Dad a Doctor, had taken up with a woman only three years older than she, her mom was living the life of an artist, very Bohemian. She asked if I could read French and without waiting for an answer dug into her bag and pulled out two reports she had done for school. One on knowing your roots, and the other on the importance of family. As we talked I took in her appearance. A basic black outfit, she had auburn hair, petite in build, and cute as a button. We talked for hours. Time seeming to have no meaning for either of us. Some where along the line my Christine became bored and returned to our hotel. Suddenly she looked at her watch and gathered up her things. "I have to go now or I'll be late for class. " Marie Christine handed me a slip of paper with her phone number. "If you're not busy later we could meet for a coffee. "

That is how it all began.

Over the next year we would meet, talk, and have coffee, any time I was in the city on business. Then that fateful day arrived. It was a cold winter's day and the wind was howling down the St. Lawrence. We had popped in and out of the shops and cafes trying to keep warm. Our faces where crimson from the biting wind and snow. We where numb to the bone. " Dave could we go to your hotel room and get warm. "

Christine sat in the widow seat her knees drawn up tight to her breasts. Looking out over the Jardine du Gouvernuer and the river. Her shoes where off and a chill shook her delicate frame every so often. " Come sit in the chair before you freeze to death. " I took the extra blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her taking one foot then the other; I warmed them in my hands. How long this took I don't know. Christine leaned over and gently kissed me. " I love you and have for quite some time, but I better go before I do something we might regret."

The next morning I received a phone message. "I can't see you any more it hurts to much, Christine. "

* * * * *

That was a year and a half ago. Why was I here? Why was I waiting for her again? As soon as Christine turned the corner I knew as my heart skipped a beat. She was the same and yet different. More mature now, more the woman and less the girl, but still breathe taking as ever. We settled into our old familiar routine, both of us avoid the subject of our last meeting. We walked and talked the afternoon and early evening away. Finally Christine grabbed my arm spun me around and looked up into my face. "We need to really talk. Can we go to your room?"

"Sure if that's what you want. "

I held the door for her as she entered slipping off her coat and stepping out of her shoes. Christine padded barefooted across the carpet and drew herself up in the widow seat. She started talking. Pressure from family and friends... older man... younger woman... Only interested in one thing... We know what's best for you. It all came flooding out. Tears where rolling down Christine cheeks "You must hate me. "

"I must have hurt you so."

I searched my mind to find the words that would comfort her. Finally I simply stated the obvious. " Christine I have always been aware of our age difference. If it doesn't bother you it certainly doesn't bother me. "

"As for your family I can understand their concerns, after all I am a father too."

Christine flew from the chair to me.

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