Breeze of Life by Kirsty Dallas

ten-year-old anymore. How do your new eyebrows feel, baby girl?” I wiggled my brows a little.
    “Sore actually.”
    “You want some pain-killers, maybe some of that cream Lacey gave you?” Harper asked with a sincerity that wrapped itself around my heart making me feel all warm and fuzzy.
    “No, I’m good, it’s not really that bad. And thank you Harper. What you did today, that was kinda huge.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal.
    “Anything for my Breeze.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, snapping a quick picture of the two of us.
    “For Mia?” Harper asked. I nodded.
    “And George. I want to show them my new eyebrows.”
    “Well ain’t this all romantic and cozy!” I recognized Marz’s voice as he approached from behind us. “I kinda feel like an ass for breaking up this little party.” He sat down beside Harper and they bumped fists.
    “You’re not breaking up anything,” I said nervously. I don’t know why I was nervous, it’s not like Harper and I had been making out or anything. Perhaps a small part of me would like to have been making out, but we weren’t, and wouldn’t. Keep telling yourself that Bree! Yoshi and a petite Asian girl with a very big and round tummy stood beside Marz.
    “Bree, this is Riah, Riah, Bree,” Yoshi introduced us. My eyes unconsciously fell to Riah’s large round belly, so beautiful and smooth. I wanted to reach out and touch it, absorbing the beauty of life growing within, life that I may never produce. A lump of regret and sadness filled my throat and I glance away taking deep reassuring breaths to regain my composure. Having children had never been a serious thought for me, I was still only twenty-two after all. It was something that I just assumed would happen one day. Now, well now my future was fickle and the poison that had fought off my cancer had more than likely stolen my ability to have children. Riah struggled to lower herself to the ground and I chastised the men for making her do so. I immediately sent Harper in search of a chair. He pilfered one from a camp site a few tents down with a little sweet-talking, and an invitation to join us. Lacey and her husband, an enormous and loud man named Eric joined the growing gathering, and, much to my horror, Chantelle and her crew of skank tanks turned up. Harper gave me a reassuring smile when I glared daggers in the buxom blonde’s direction. Soon we had quite an ensemble of people from all walks of life sitting around the fire laughing and telling stories of epic fail camping trips. It seemed I had more to tell than most. The gathering was fun, everyone laughed, and the mood was light. It was always like this with Harper though, people were drawn to him, he was like a magnet drawing everyone in with his charm and easy going nature. On the tour he had gained a reputation as a womanizing bad boy. I had heard the gossip and stories, and I tried incredibly hard to ignore them. Here under the star lit skies of Australia though, this was the real Harper Somerville. My eyes were drawn to the flickering fire that tried desperately to reach for the skies. The magnificent colors and twisted, licking flames sucked me into a thoughtless relaxed state, until a tap on my shoulder drew away my attention. Harper lowered himself to my side, guitar in hand.
    The silent invitation to play seemed to garner everyone’s attention. Even though my eyes were glued on the beautiful guitar, I knew the eyes of the guests around us were watching me curiously. I shuffled nervously. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and take the damn thing. I wanted to sing, I wanted to lose myself in the music that had brought me so much happiness over the years. I was nervous though, skittish even. Playing had never made me nervous before, I loved it, lived for it. Now my insides churned with anxious butterflies dying to be let free.
    “It’s been a while. My fingers are a bit soft,” I whispered. The calluses that had