Epilogue:

Honey trudged along one of the snow-shoe trails to the farthest cabin, a trip that could have been done more easily by sno-mobile but she still loved to get out and put on the bear paws for a trek now and then. In the distance she saw some of the winter students cross-country skiing back to the dormitory, their head lamps on now with the fading sunlight and waved at them when they ‘Woo Hoo’ed to her. What a nice lot this bunch of inner city Music students were.

They had never regretted putting so much time and money into buying more land and putting up the necessary buildings to re-open the Music Camp. Over the past ten years so many talented kids had passed through their doors, some returning again and again, some only once but all, without an exception keeping in touch, Christmas, birthdays, Valentines day {their favourite}. All of the Divos donated time to the camp, as well as some of the many celebrities they had come to know over the years.

It wasn’t a profitable operation, was never meant to be. Still there were times when both Urs and Honey felt that, other than their children and Il Divo, the Camp was the best thing they had done for the world they lived in and for themselves.

Of course their own immediate family had increased too. It just wasn’t possible for either of them to go more than a couple of days without showing their love, one for the other and that had meant the arrival of Nancy, when the twins were just 15months old and Matthieu the next year. Both times Urs had managed to be home for the last months of her pregnancy and eagerly participated in the delivery. Now they were 10, 8 and 7 and filled the lives of their parents with the usual frustrations and joy. All of the boys looked remarkably like Urs, the eyes, tall slender bodies, Peter and Matthieu with the same dark hair, Luke with a reddish-mahogany more like Honey, all of them with a riot of curls.

Nancy was Urs little red headed Princess though you would never have known it, tiny and feisty, she kept pace with the 3 boys, playing soccer/football, skiing, skating, was usually to be found in jeans and tee shirts just like her brothers, rough- housing in the barn or running through the fields. The boys treated her as one of them, except when she was in trouble, then they formed a defensive front of protection that often reminded Honey of Urs attitude towards her. And all of them could sing like angels.

This lovely weekend they would be staying with Oma and Opa Buhler, singing for them, eating far too many sweets and playing with the many cousins that congregated at the family home in Willisau, just the other side of Luzern. Which meant that Urs and Honey had some lovely quiet time alone.

She reached the cabin they called Mozart, took off the bear paws and stomped the snow from her boots before stepping into the warmth of the cabin. Jonas had been out earlier to warm the cabin with heat from the fireplace and to stock it with food. Now she just had to wait for Urs to come home.

She bustled around, setting a bottle of white to chill, lighting some scented candles when the sun began to set, putting a stack of CD’s in the new stereo system, ready to be turned on. She laughed a bit when she pulled the old night shirt out of the bag she had brought on her back and changed out of her clothes into only that shirt. She brushed her waist length hair until it shone in the firelight, thinking that it was time once more to cut it….but not tonight.

Her cell phone chirped at her and she looked to see a text message from Urs.

‘Almost Home…where R U?’

‘Mozart…need U… NOW!!’

‘Hold that thought’ he answered back and she laughed.

He had only been gone 2 and a half weeks this time but as always the days had dragged. They weren’t separated nearly as much now, even the tours were short and confined to a specific continent so that many times it was possible for all the women, and sometimes the children, to go along or meet up along the way.

As she opened the wine and poured two glasses she thought about Carol and Miles who had been there at the start but gradually drifted into another circle of friends, not losing contact completely since Honey still worked with them, but from home, in fact had visited with their 5 year old son just last spring.

And Amy, dear Amy. The first holiday Urs and Honey had taken was back to Rose Cottage where they were received with tears and laughter by their friend who hadn’t changed one bit. It became a ritual for them to have at least a few days at Rose Cottage once or twice a year, a nice quiet routine that charged their batteries. It was just after Mathieu’s birth that the rector of Amy’s church had contacted them. She still remembered the letter, now safely in the family Bible.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Buhler:

Amy asked me to inform you in the event that she passed on. I think she knew that her time to join Sam and Conor was coming for she made arrangements for her beloved cats, had the house spotless, but of course it always was, and left a will with me.

She was not ill. Just went to sleep one night and never rose again in this world. She was found the next morning by the young woman who went out each day to collect cookies for the Hotel. Her wish was to have no ceremony, instead, for her many friends to have a ‘Celebration of Life’ at some future time when the grieving was not so fresh. And she arranged to have her ashes spread at sea, in the area where Sam’s boat floundered.

Rose Cottage has been left to you and I have taken the liberty of installing one of Amy’s oldest friends in the house, as Amy suggested, to keep it tidy and to await your visit, should your schedule allow. Perhaps at that time we can make plans to celebrate the full life of this woman who was loved nearly instantly by so many.

Pastor Amos McPhee’

They had visited Rose Cottage often over the years, still loved to walk on the heath, had not yet shared it with the children but someday, when they were not quite so active…someday….

All of the Divos being eventually married and with children had done nothing to dampen the spirits of the fan base and the CD’s and DVD’s they released each year had topped the charts each time. Finally the Divos began to understand why they were so important to so many people. The fantasies were just that, not meant to ever be real, just to finish filling the void in day to day lives that the music had begun to fill. The love affair that was mutual between the Divos and their fans would go on, untarnished, unending as long as there was music to help heal an ailing world.

Now Seb and Anna had 2 lovely little girls, David and Holly had their three boys, and Carlos and Gerry had at long last safely delivered a darling little girl. It was quite a crowd when they all got together for the recording sessions, for their yearly breaks on the Amalfi coast at Seb’s summer home or for the snow sports they all loved at der Musik Hof.

She heard the sno-mobile even before she saw the headlight cut a swath of light over the frosty window. She clicked the remote for the stereo and music lightly wafted through the cabin. She waited.

The door swung open and Urs stepped inside, bundled in his heavy parka and boots, his hands gloved and reaching for the helmet that protected his head. He saw her immediately, standing on the rug in front of the fireplace, the old, long tee shirt reflecting the flickers of flames in the fireplace, sending shafts of copper into the dimly lit room from her waist length curly hair. He shrugged out of his parka, put it on the hook by the door, stepped out of his boots and came toward her with that walk that made her shiver every time and those eyes….as always she felt herself drowning in them, swamped with the feelings of love that sparkled in the hazel ponds. Ten years had done nothing to age him, his lustrous hair was still thick and dark, perhaps a touch longer than on that first world tour and often left curly now since he knew how she loved it. His eyes still mesmerized the fans and his body was perhaps even more toned than before. He looked so good that even after 4 children she still felt her body heat as she looked at him.

He was smiling when he reached her and took one of the glasses of wine, took a sip and placed it carefully on the small table beside hers.

Urs stepped closer and she went into his arms, sighed as he found her mouth and caressed it with his, running his tongue along the sensitive lining of her lower lip to make her tremble as her hands pulled at his shirt and took it up over his shoulders. Once his chest was free, she left his mouth and touched her tongue to his flat nipples, teasing him while he thrust the shirt over his head and on to the floor. Her hands were busy and made short work of his jeans, boxers and sox until he had no barriers left between them, nothing but the tee shirt she still wore.

He grinned at the shared memory, took the hem of the tee shirt in his hands and lifted it slowly, following the cloth with his mouth, leaving his mark on her tender skin while she moaned and clutched at his hair.

Four children and she was still slender, bounced back each time with little difficulty. There were perhaps a few more laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and faint stretch marks on her breasts but still she was that one perfect woman for him, the one that he fell madly in love with over and over, each time he saw her or heard her voice and still ached to be near when he had to travel.

Urs gently took her down to the rug before the fireplace and watched her eyes glaze as he stroked his hands over her smooth skin. The scent of Sage and Chocolate wafted past his face as she reached for him, pulling his face down to invade his mouth. With a soft move she rolled them over and explored, making him moan and shudder until she came back up to his mouth and kissed him gently. Honey lifted her mouth away from his and whispered “Welcome Home”.

**

They slept in front of the fire for most of the night until Urs woke and added more logs, then carried his sleeping wife up to the loft to the high, soft bed. She rolled into his arms when he lay beside her, not waking but smiling and nestling with her head under his chin, with her body partly sprawled over his.

He listened to her breathing and marveled at how after all this time she still thrilled him, one look, one touch and he was toast. Twice he had almost lost her, once because of stupidity and once through disaster when her helicopter had crashed. How empty his life would have been.

As if on cue the CD player downstairs began the first song Urs had ever written for Honey, Petite Etoile. They had recorded it but as a solo for Urs with the guys doing back up, the first time they had done that and it was so successful that they did many others on later CD’s featuring one or the other of the singers singing a solo track.

Honey stirred and he rolled her flat, away from him, then pulled her underneath his chest, leaning on his elbow as he stroked her hair back off her face and tenderly kissed her neck, breathing in her ear and laughing lightly when she shivered.

She retaliated by running her nails along his ribs and thigh and laughed when she felt his body respond. She opened her eyes a bit and looked up into those twin pools of hazel, smiling.

“Encore?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a husky voice, then took her to paradise…again.

*************************************************************





Not the end, of course, for this special couple but I think the appropriate place to end our peek into their lives. I like to think that they had many years of love and music and passed on together to the next plane of existence …..oops, once more I forgot this was fiction.

It’s always sad when a story ends, especially if it has been one in which you feel the love and sorrow of the characters. Myself, I mourn the loss of them in my life until I get enthralled by others, yet I still must visit now and then. As Urs said, way back in Ireland: ‘You need to remember them, Mein Schatz. They will never be really gone, if you keep the memory alive.’

Lothiriel72 aka REE

Well done Ree...so much love, tenderness and passion cheers:

thanks
Jules