Blue Note

Heather Hawthorne walked silently with her daughter Ella through Woodlawn Cemetery towards the headstone. It was a chilly late-October day in the Bronx, and the rain had only let up an hour or so earlier.

Heather hated cemeteries as much as she hated hospitals, and felt a little uneasy as she and her daughter made their way towards the headstone. She knew she had to do this, even though she had been putting it off for some time.

They were just a few feet away before Heather suddenly stopped. She removed a tissue from her navy-blue handbag and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"What's wrong, mum?" Ella asked, and Heather couldn't help smiling at the soft music of her daughter's voice.

"It's-it's a bit hard for your mum to do this," she whispered.

"I know, mum, but you'll be all right."

"Thank you, dear."

In a manner of minutes, they were in front of the headstone. Heather laid a bouquet of roses at the base, and placed her arm around her daughter's shoulder. She tried not to stare at the writing, but she couldn't help it-and couldn't help the sorrow welling up inside her as she read the words:

DEXTER LEWIS

FEBRUARY 23, 1970-OCTOBER 26, 2003

HIS SONG WILL ALWAYS PLAY ON

Ella looked up at her mother, her brown eyes also attempting to hold back tears.

"You OK?"

Heather tried to keep it together, but just couldn't. She knelt in front of the headstone and began to weep. Ella placed her hand on her mother's shoulder, and comforted her until she could compose herself.

-

The rain had started up again by the time Heather and Ella made it back to their car. Heather's light-brown hair had become soaked, but it was the least of her worries.

As Heather pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto Webster Avenue, she sighed. "Well, that was tough," she said softly. "Are you OK, dear?"

"Yes, mum."

Ella paused.

"Mum, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, dear."

"What was he like? I mean, I saw a couple of his interviews on YouTube, but it's not the same."

"Wow...he was..."

Suddenly, Heather pulled over. The sorrow was taking over again.

"Sorry...not sure I can cry and drive at the same time, dear!"

"I didn't mean to upset you, mum."

"No, no, dear...you didn't upset me. It's just that..."

Ella reached over to touch her mother's hand.

"Thanks, dear. It's just that...he was...he was the nicest and the sweetest...I don't even think there are words that can describe him. He was like royalty-and I don't just mean in terms of his music. He was just...just regal, like some handsome prince in a book. I know that sounds silly, but that's who he was."

Ella smiled. "He must have been really cool."

"He was-he was so cool. He was fearless, too-a lot of his friends didn't want to work with me. They didn't take me seriously-they thought I couldn't possibly know anything about jazz, even though I had played back home. But he took a chance on me. He was so nice..."

Emma smiled. "I'm sure he was."

"I never told you this story, but he wanted to put me on one of his album covers!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, we actually had the photo taken. It was him embracing me from behind-his arms were wrapped around my waist-and I was looking up at him. Next to us, there was a piano with a saxophone laid on top-you know, both of our instruments-and behind us, an American flag next to an Australian flag. But his label refused to use the photo for the album cover-they said his fans would never buy it!"

"Wow. That's a shame."

"I don't think he ever got over it-he said he wanted all his fans to know exactly how he felt about me."

"I'm sure some of them did."

"Well, inevitably," replied Heather, smiling a bit amidst her drying tears. "He was a great man...he had his problems and his issues, and that's what I was thinking about when I saw his name on the headstone...it was just so sad, you know?"

"Yeah."

"He tried...he tried really hard...and that's what hurts...I never told you this, but...they found him the day I was going to tell him about you...that's what hurts so bad...I was going to go out to dinner with him that night and tell him...but they called me that afternoon and said they found him..."

"I'm so sorry, mum..."

"It hurts so bad that he never got to meet you. He would have loved you, Ella. You have his eyes, his smile, his talent...he would have been so proud of you."

Ella smiled.

"When I see you, I know a part of him is still with me," Heather continued. "But I miss all of him. I always will."

"I know, mum."

Heather removed her seat belt and leaned over to embrace her daughter.

"I love you, Ella."

"I love you, too, mum."

Heather looked at her daughter again, and smiled. Then she turned her head towards the sky.

"Hey Dex," she said softly, pointing her thumb at Ella. "We made a great one!"