I have no idea when Emmy came to bed, but she was cuddled up against me when I woke up. I slid out from her arms as gently as I could to let her sleep. After showering and getting dressed, I made sure the girls were up. Cecilia was easy to wake up, but Dulce proved to be a heavy sleeper. It took a bit of shaking her shoulder to get her to rouse. When she finally opened her eyes, I told her that she needed to get up so we could leave in an hour.

"Déjeme dormir media hora más," she grumbled, but I didn't let her go back to sleep.

"Tienes que levantarte," I replied, continuing to shake her shoulder gently. Finally she sat up, still more asleep than awake, and I saw that she'd slept in nothing but her panties.

I'd seen her basically naked when she and her friends had come over to swim at the house in Cartagena, but somehow this sort of innocent accidental nudity was so much more appealing than that display had been.

"Get up, get showered, get dressed," I told her. "We really do have to leave in an hour."

"O.K., I'm awake," she said, stretching and yawning.

I heard Cecilia's shower running when I left Dulce to get out of bed, so I was confident that at least one of the girls would be ready on time.

I didn't bother fixing us breakfast. I figured that coffee and day-old croissants would do until we got settled in at the airport lounge, where there would be something better. Maybe not great, but good enough.

Emmy was still asleep when it came time to leave, so I woke her with a kiss and told her that I'd see her in a few days.

"Going to miss you," she mumbled.

"I'm going to miss you, too," I said, tucking the covers up around her again.

Our return leg involved a hop from London to Miami, then a three-hour layover. From there it was another three hour flight to Cartagena. We'd be flying with the time zones, so the sixteen hour transit time would equal an eleven hour change in the clocks. This meant we'd get to town late- eight o'clock at night. It was going to be a long day for us, but at least the girls would have a day to decompress before jumping back into school life.

I had no meetings, inspections, or excursions planned for Sunday, either. I figured I'd just relax and do nothing strenuous, other than maybe swim or catch some rays.

Dulce sat in between Cecilia and me on the Miami leg and once Cecilia drifted off to sleep Dulce turned to talk to me.

"I like Jeremy," she said.

"I do, too," I replied.

"He looks big and scary, but he's really nice."

"Looking big and scary is at least two thirds of his job," I agreed.

"What do you mean?" Dulce asked.

"Well, he heads off a lot of potential problems just by looking really intimidating, right?" I asked. "Just the simple fact he's obviously a big, tough bodyguard means that people won't start trouble."

"That happened yesterday," Dulce said, thinking about it.

"What happened yesterday?" I asked, curious.

"We were on the underground train coming back to the apartment and there was this group of boys, maybe a year or two older than Cecy and me. It was obvious that they wanted to come over and talk to us- they were making rude gestures- but they didn't because Jeremy was standing over us. Every time he looked at them they looked away."

"See, that's it exactly. Those boys saw two beautiful foreign girls and thought that maybe they could have a little fun, but just by being there Jeremy prevented any problems from even developing," I told her.

"I was glad he was with us. I don't think those boys would have done anything more than say nasty things, but they didn't even do that," Dulce admitted.

"No, because Jeremy would have folded them in half and thrown them in the garbage where they belonged. Those guys probably made up all kinds of stories about why two girls would have a bodyguard. They probably told all their friends that they'd seen two drug lord daughters or something like that," I said, chuckling at the thought.

Dulce laughed, too, amused by the idea.

"I'm going to miss Cecy next year," she said, changing the subject.

"We'll be down to Cartagena at least a couple of times during the year, and you could maybe come up to LA or New York to visit," I suggested.

"New York?"

"We have a house there, too. Cecy's been there, with her family and Emmy."

"I remember! Cecy said it was so cold she nearly froze!" Dulce said, smiling at the memory. "She showed me pictures."

"Angela joked about that. She said she didn't think her family had ever even seen ice before," I smiled, remembering.

"We have ice in Cartagena, you know," Dulce said reproachfully.

"I wish we had time to see the city," Cecilia said while we killed time in the KLM lounge at the airport. "Three hours isn't even really enough time to leave the airport and come back," I said.

"I know," she agreed. "My parents and I visited when Angela lived here, but I was just a little girl and wasn't really interested. I would like to see the city now that I'm grown up."

I resisted the urge to point out that at sixteen she certainly wasn't yet grown up. "Maybe we can check out Miami next year," I suggested. "If it works out," I added, not wanting her to take it as any sort of promise.

"Miami is alright," Dulce said somewhat dismissively. "I would rather see Chicago, or Seattle. Or San Francisco! I would love to go there!"

"We almost went to San Francisco with Angela last year," Cecilia said, "but we went to New York instead."

"Leah said that maybe I could come visit you in New York next year," Dulce said.

"You need to!" Cecilia replied. "Emmy's house is so amazing and so big! There is so much to do in New York!"

I tuned out their conversation, focusing instead on my laptop and the work emails that had piled up. Conceptually I was fine with Dulce coming to visit, whether in Los Angeles, New York or even London again. She seemed to be a good kid and got along well with everybody.

Mamá insisted that I spend the night at the Castro family home that night, and I couldn't find it in myself to argue. A late dinner with the family and then a night in that welcoming home was much, much better than spending the evening by myself.

Cecilia regaled her parents with tales of the apartment, what we went and did, things she saw and so on during dinner. I added a few details, but left most of the story-telling to her.

Helping Mamá clean up after dinner our talk turned to the kind of things parents want to know. Was Cecilia good? Were there any problems? Did she and Dulce behave themselves? That sort of thing. I assured her that having the girls with us for the week was a lot of fun, and they were both great kids.

I also told her that it was good for Emmy and me, too, since we got a little bit of a taste of what she'll be like next school year, which was coming up soon.

"I am glad that she was good," Mamá said. "She very much wants to go to school in Los Angeles."

"I think it'll work out fine," I assured her.

I had breakfast there at the Castro house before making my way over to my own place. Mamá said she was worried for me in that big house all by myself, but when I told her I was just going to relax and catch up on emails, maybe get some sun and take a siesta, she admitted that I would probably be O.K.

I was pleased by the job the housekeeper that Miguel had found for me had done when I looked around the place. Everything was nice and clean, and the fridge and pantry had been stocked, too- just essentials, but that was all I needed for the next few days, anyhow.

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Looking through the clothes I'd left in the closet, I picked out a light sleeveless linen shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts- perfect for lounging.

Sometimes the little things hit hard, though. Looking at myself in the closet mirror, I realized that they were the same pair of shorts the day Angela had surprised me with a trip to Catalina. That had been such a good day, despite the drunken assholes there at the end. Remembering how Angela had almost been caught posing nude by a troop of Girl Scouts was a truly bittersweet thing. Sweet, because of the memory itself, and bitter, because of the loss of such a tender, loving soul.

I took a deep breath and ran my hands over the material of the shorts. I wasn't going to take them off, I decided. I was going to use them to remind me of the wonderful girl I had loved, and that was going to be a very good thing.

I went out for a late lunch, just grabbing some arepas and fresh fruit from street vendors in the plaza down on the corner. It was plenty warm out, but the humidity wasn't bad at all, so a little bit of a breeze and some shade made it quite pleasant.

It was not going to be a good night to go out, since it was Easter Sunday and everything would be closed, but maybe I could make myself a little something and eat up on the rooftop deck. It would certainly be a nice enough evening for it.

I had no meetings with any locals scheduled until Tuesday, so my plan was to catch up on my work emails on Monday. Not go out, not have dinner with anyone, nothing. Just buckle down and bury myself until I'd cleared my backlog.

I had just finished a late lunch and was getting back to work when I got a text from Katrina.

"Aer you back in Cartagena?" she asked.

"Yes", I replied.

"I wish I was. This term is going to suck" she sent back. "The only class I absolutely, positively needed has been canceled. The professor is sick & in the hospital".

"Bummer for you- worse for the professor", I texted back.

"LOL", Katrina texted. "I only need two classes to graduate and this is one of them".

"What are you filling out the rest of your schedule with?" I asked, more to make conversation than anything.

"Nothing. I only have 1 class this term. The rest is work".

"Well, I guess it's all work and no play for you then." I sent back.

"I should have stayed in CO. At least then I'd be able to hang out at your place and swim", Katrina texted.

"You don't have a pool?" I asked.

"My apartment building has a pool, but it sucks. Too much choline and to many kids".

"Chlorine", she added as correction.

"I figured that's what you meant", I sent back.

There was a pause with the three dots, then they disappeared, then reappeared again. Finally her text message came through. "I've been thinking about getting a tattoo", she said, completely changing the subject.

"Please don't", I replied.

Again, appearing and disappearing dots before finally a simple "Why not?"

I started to type my reply, but then deleted it. Thinking about what I wanted to say, I finally answered her. "I know it's your body and your right to do what you want, but I like your skin with no more decoration than some sexy tan lines."

There was a long pause- at least five minutes- then a picture came through of Katrina taking a selfie in a bathroom mirror. She was wearing her office casual clothes, but had the shirt unbuttoned all the way and pulled open. Her bra was a front-clasp, and that was undone, too. Everything was pulled as far apart as possible to show as much bikini tan line as she could without revealing her nipples.

"These tan lines?" her text asked.

"Those, and from the bottoms, too", I sent back, trying to tease her.

Out worked. A few minutes went by and then there was a photo of her skirt pulled down as low as she could go without exposing her slit. I could clearly see the lines from the bikini straps converge on a pale delta of skin.

"Yeah, those are the tan lines I was talking about", I sent. "Those are all the decoration you need".

"Will you be home tonight? Can I call you?" she asked.

"Sounds good," I replied.

I was just setting my phone aside when another photo came through, but this one was the best of all. Katrina had ditched all her clothes and was facing away from the mirror, taking the selfie back over her shoulder of her bare butt and its little bitty pale triangle right at her tailbone.

My only reply was the heart emoji.

When Emmy called me to tell me that she and Jeremy were about to board their flight back to Los Angeles I told her about the text flirting I'd done with Katrina.

"Do you think she would mind if you sent me the pictures?" Emmy asked.

"Honestly, I think she would probably expect it," I replied. "She knows I tell you everything."

"I would like to see them, if you think it is O.K.," Emmy said, so I texted them to her while we spoke.

Emmy's voice grew quiet. "I was serious when I told you that I would not object if you wished to take her as a lover," she said. "She is clearly very attracted to you."

"Em-" I started to object, but she cut me off.

"We will speak about it when you get home," she said. "Remember, I love you very, very much and I want you to be happy and fulfilled."

"I love you very much, too," I answered.

After we hung up, I just stared at my phone for a while. My first reaction was that Emmy was trying to find me a substitute for Angela, and I didn't want that for so many reasons. My second thought was that Katrina could never be that substitute, anyhow. Even if she and I were to somehow develop a real relationship, the hole in our lives that had been left behind when Angela died was not one that Katrina could fill.

I sat there for a while, imagining what life with Katrina would be like. Yes, I did enjoy her company, and yes, she was smart and sexy (and probably not spying on me for the CIA), so in the abstract I could picture myself with Katrina. Unfortunately, I couldn't envision how she could fit into my life, or how she and Emmy would relate to each other. Sure, they'd met and gotten along well enough for a lunch date, but I just couldn't see Katrina taking up her share of the closet at home.

Did I even want somebody there to keep me company when Emmy no longer could? That was a completely different question, and maybe the first to address. If the answer was no, then any further discussion of Katrina (or Ashley, or whoever) was immaterial.

Mom never sought out companionship after Dad died in Iraq, after all. She just did what she had to do and got on with what needed to be got on with by herself. She focused on her daughters and on her work, setting aside any thoughts of finding another man to replace the one she'd lost to an improvised explosive in Fallujah.

At least, I didn't think she had, I mused. Maybe she had a secret boyfriend that she somehow kept me from knowing about. Heck, she might be dating now and I wouldn't know about it unless she (or maybe Tiffany) told me about it.

Pondering the idea, I kind of wished it was the case. I found myself feeling sorry for Mom, going for nearly two decades now without any romantic companionship at all. She was a strong, smart and good-looking woman and deserved that sort of happiness for herself.

I was lost in these thoughts when the front doorbell chimed. Well, that's actually a terribly inaccurate way to describe what really happened. What actually occurs when anybody presses the button by the front door is that the iPads scattered around the house chime and display the video feed from the hidden camera by the door. Glancing at the iPad there on my desk, I saw it was Cecilia and Dulce, straight from school and still in their uniforms with their Swedish backpacks on.

Wondering why they were at my house, I buzzed and let them in. I met them downstairs and led them to the kitchen for snacks and drinks- things the kitchen had plenty of.

"I want to thank you again for bringing me to London," Dulce said as we all sat down at the table. "I had a great time. I really love your apartment- it's so incredible! All our friends at school just couldn't believe it!"

"I'm glad you could come with us," I told her.

"Lee, is it true you invited Dulce to Los Angeles next school year?" Cecilia asked.

"Or New York," Dulce added.

"Or maybe London again, if that's how it works out," I agreed. "But here's the thing. It's important that neither of you misses any school, and since your school calendars are going to be different it may be hard to plan a time that works for everybody."

"Christmas or Easter, those could work," Dulce suggested.

"Those would be perfect," I agreed. "That's exactly what I meant, Sometime that you both have time off."

"You need to send me your school schedule the moment you know," Dulce said to Cecilia.

"It is probably online," Cecilia said, thinking about it, pulling out her phone. "I already know the school I will be going to."

"I need to get back to work," I told them, "But stay and help yourselves to anything."

Cecilia waved that she understood, but both girls were already comparing what they'd found on their phones.

I was perfectly O.K. with the idea of Dulce visiting, perhaps even more than once. Sure, we were bound to come down to Cartagena during the time Cecilia would be living with us, but still she was bound to be homesick so a visit from her best friend would be a welcome reprieve. She'd get the opportunity to share her Los Angeles experience, too, so when she came back home to Colombia she'd have at least one person who had some idea of what she'd experienced up in the US.

I was just settling back into the details of a proposed office tower to residential conversion when the two girls found me in my home office area.

They were good about being quiet while I finished my phone call with Sheryl in our San Jose office, which was a point in their favor.

Once I was off the phone, Cecilia made a gesture to ask if it was O.K. to talk, and when I told her it was, she asked if the two of them could use the pool.

I won't worried about their safety. The pool wasn't too deep and I'd seen thatchy both could swim just fine, after all, so I told them to go ahead.

"There are towels in the home gym- that's the room there on the same level," I told them. "Help yourselves."

Pleased that the girls had been respectful of my need to finish my phone call and also that Cecilia at least was starting to think of my new house as someplace that she was welcome, I got back to crunching the numbers Sheryl had provided.

After a while I'd had enough. I was probably going to green light the deal, since the real estate market in San Francisco was brutally expensive and rentals were in very short supply. We'd have a whole lot of upfront costs on top of the building purchase, but the ROI was looking very good in the five year range.

Realizing the girls had been up at the pool for a while, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of bottles of water for them and a Coke for myself.

I set the two bottles of water down on the low table next to Cecilia's chaise. "Don't forget to stay hydrated," I reminded the girls. "It's a hot day and you've been up here for a while. Even if you're in the water you'll be losing fluids."

It was taking all I had to not laugh at the stricken looks on the two girls' faces as they tried to cover up their nudity with their hands, but after a few awkward moments Cecilia relaxed and took one of the sweating bottles of water, lowering her arm and exposing her chests she did so. Dulce stayed in the pool, submerged up to her neck and covering herself up as well as she could in embarrassment.

"Lee, you do not mind if we swim… desnuda, do you?" Cecilia asked.

"Nude," I said. "No, of course not, as long as you put on sun block so you don't burn in any sensitive areas."

"See?" Cecilia said to her friend. "Ya ves?"

"There is one thing to consider, though," I cautioned them. "As much as I hate the idea of you two keeping anything from your parents, it might be a bad idea to tell them you came over to my house and got naked."

That broke Dulce's awkwardness, and she laughed out loud at the idea. She came over to the side of the pool, but still stayed submerged from the shoulders down.

Cecilia, though, stood up and stretched her arms out wide. "I am the famous superhero Naked Girl!" she proclaimed. "But only here, in private," she added, dropping her arms and letting her head hang down.

"Hey, Naked Girl!" Dulce laughed, swimming backwards into the middle of the pool. When Cecilia turned to look at her, Dulce splashed her as mightily as she could.

"Coño!" Cecilia shouted in surprise. At Dulce's redoubled laughter Cecilia cannonballed into the water, swamping her friend. The two immediately engaged in a splash fight, laughing and shrieking.

Wondering what it was about that little rooftop pool that encouraged skinny-dipping, I went back downstairs to get some work done.

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