He smiled as he greeted his old friends, tossing the stale pieces of bread far out into the pond. 

"There you go, guys.  It's been a beautiful summer, huh?"  He grinned at the antics of the younger ducks, racing to and fro and fighting over the larger pieces, while the older ones, his old companions, waited patiently and easily scooped up the smaller bits.  His grin widened as he saw her approaching. 

She greeted him with a somber smile. 

"Hi Gary, how's it been?"

"Great - it's been a beautiful summer.  The usual?"

She smiled and nodded. 

He dusted off his hands and grabbed two sugar cones, setting them in the stand with the ease of too many years practice.  He grabbed his scoop and deftly added a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of strawberry to each.  He handed them to her gently, made change and wished her a good afternoon. 

She smiled as she passed the familiar stand and headed for her usual bench, set a little bit back from the lake under a shaded tree. 

Gary surreptitiously watched her; he was unable to not watch her.  He saw her several times a year.  He often saw her even in the cooler months as he came to check on his beloved ducks.  She barely spoke to him, year after year.  She just smiled, asked after his well-being, and ordered the same thing.  Two sugar cones with a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of strawberry, the strawberry always on top. 

He'd never made the mistake of asking her about it, he remembered when she was much younger, and how she used to come to the lake with another little girl, just like her.  He'd watched them protectively back then, two dark faces with their long, black braided pigtails, laughing and giggling and doing what little girls did on a summer's day.  Then one day they'd just stopped coming, he knew because he'd come to watch for the two.  They'd always put a smile on his face with their antics.  She returned a couple of years after that, conspicuously more subdued, quieter now without her partner in crime.  He'd never presumed to ask her about it, where her little coconspirator was.  He'd sensed that his questions wouldn't have been welcomed and the last thing he wanted to do was to make her uncomfortable.  She was always the highlight of his day.  There was just something about her quiet dignity that drew him to her.

The sunlight reflected off the lake, lighting up her features.  He stiffened as the light glinted off two tear tracks, running down her cheeks unchecked.  He wanted to go to her and comfort her, but he knew better.  Besides, he sensed that she wasn't truly alone.  He just watched as she finished the first cone and held the second in her hand.  She always waited for the second cone to melt, sometimes smiling quietly to herself, sometimes just sitting in silence, but always patiently waiting for the last drips of ice cream to fall to the ground.  Then, as she always did, she stood and threw the remnants of the soggy cone to the ducks, wiped her hands on the napkin and the tears from her face and smiled as she waved goodbye and went on her way. 

She was always the highlight of his day.