the Story Shop

by Peter Ponzo

  Now I'm a confirmed bachelor. It's not that I don't like women, it's just that they take up a lot of time that I'd rather spend reading or painting or just relaxing. So the next day when a neighbour lady dropped by to introduce herself, I hoped she'd say hello then leave. Alas, that was not the case.

  "Hi," she said. "I'm your neighbour, Helen. Welcome to Sandy Bay. I assume you're renting."

  "Uh, yes … renting, for a couple of weeks," I said.

  "Wonderful! You'll love it here. There's a Provincial Park just up the road, a beautiful place for a picnic, and Dunnville has great places to eat and ... oh, are you married? I didn't notice anyone with you."

  She didn't notice anyone with me? Does she spend the day peering out her window at the neighbours?

  "No … not married. Just me and Sandy," I said. "We enjoy the isolation."

  I was hoping she would be discouraged from continuing our conversation, but she continued.

  "Yes, I saw your Yorkie," she said. "He'll love the water. I did have a Shih Tzu, but he died three months ago. I just love dogs, don’t you?"

  "Well, yes, that's why I have a dog."

  "If you ever need dog food I still have bags of dry kibbles. I'll never use them because I'll never get another dog. It's just heart breaking when they die, don't you think? Why do dogs have such a short life span?"

  "Yes, a short life span," I said.

  This lady had been standing on my front porch. I felt that, if I asked her to come in, she'd stay forever, so I just let her stand there. That wasn't very neighbourly, I know, but I really didn't want to talk to this woman.

  "Uh, would you like to come in?" I asked.

  "Heavens, no," she said with vigour. "I must get back. It's time to watch the next episode of Damages. Do you follow that series?"

  "Damages?" I said. "No, I don't watch any series. I find them mind numbing."

  "Yes! You're right! They are!" she said. "Perhaps that why I watch them." She giggled and left and Sandy and I were alone again with the soothing sound of waves.

  The next morning, Sandy and I walked along the beach. It was sunny and the sand was warm and the air was filled with the sound of seagulls on the lake. As I walked by a cottage, someone shouted: "Hello out there! It's a beautiful day, don't you think?"

  I stopped and saw that nosy neighbour lady standing on her deck and waving. I gave her a short, weak wave, hoping to discourage further talk, but she came bounding down to the beach.

  "Don't you just love to walk this time in the morning?" she asked. "It's quiet and not too hot and …"

  "Yes, very quiet," I said, exaggerating the word 'quiet'.

  She knelt on the beach and scratched Sandy's head. Sandy instantly fell in love with her.

  "Have you had breakfast?" she asked. "I'm just about to make bacon and eggs with toast and marmalade and orange juice and …"

  "Uh, no, thank you," I said, even though her breakfast sounded so much better than my instant coffee and toasted pop tarts.

  "Oh, please come in. I hate to eat alone."

  Then she grabbed my hand and started to drag me across the beach. This was one determined lady. Where was her husband? Did she do this to everyone who rented that cottage? I let myself be dragged. I could smell the coffee as soon as we got to her deck. She slid the door open and Sandy was the first one in. This woman then found some kibbles and tossed them to my dog. He really was in love with her; my dog, in love with a stranger.

  This lady kept filling my coffee cup. I was stuffed, but the eggs were done to perfection, not dry and fluffy but soft and creamy. The bacon was crisp, the orange juice tasted freshly squeezed and I was enjoying myself. She kept talking, but I didn't actually hear everything she said. Then she stopped talking and stared at me.

  "Uh, beg your pardon?" I said.

  "I asked why you were not married?"

  "Married? Uh, well …" I couldn’t tell her the truth, about my refusing to listen to a female's inane chatter, so I gave her the standard answer. "I just haven't found the right woman, I guess."

  "That's what I thought," she said. "But keep trying. She'll come along one day." She smiled and poured more coffee.

  Chapter Two

  At the end of my two-week stay, I was sorry to leave. The cottage was delightful and the beach was awesome, but I actually felt that I would miss Helen's company. Yes, she talked a lot, but she was so excited about everything she said. She enjoyed life to the fullest and I would miss that. My life, back home, was dull. I had never felt that so much as when we were getting into the car. Helen was standing on her front porch, waving enthusiastically. She seemed so sad to see us leave.

  The drive home was miserable. Even Sandy seemed unhappy. When I collapsed onto the sofa, I expected Sandy to jump up to join me. He always did this. This time he just curled up at my feet. I turned on the TV. I searched for a ball game, but there was none. There was some series playing: Damages. It seemed familiar, so I watched for a while. I recognized it as the series that Helen was watching. I sat through the whole episode, imagining that I had Helen beside me, on the couch. It was pretty interesting. I made a note of the time so I could catch the next episode.

  I heated up a TV dinner: some kind of soggy meat, tasteless mashed potatoes and a few carrots. I remembered the wonderful dinners that Helen had prepared. She was a fantastic cook and she talked ceaselessly while she cooked. It was delightful to hear her; she laughed, she squealed, she wagged her finger, she rolled her eyes. Then she came to the table with an herbed pork roast, cauliflower in a cheese sauce and a salad with spinach, tomatoes, cucumbers and a marvelous dressing that she invented.

  Within a week I had contacted the owners of the cottage I had rented, asking if they wanted to sell. As the saying goes, I made them an offer they couldn't refuse. It pretty well wiped out my bank account, but they were surprised by my offer and accepted immediately. I wasn't scheduled for any more holidays, yet I was eager to get to the cottage so I packed a few things and left that Friday evening when the assistant manager took over the store. I'd spend the weekend there with Sandy … and hopefully with Helen.

  When I arrived it was quite late. There was a light on in Helen's cottage. I parked the car, unpacked, left Sandy in my newly acquired cottage and walked over to Helen's. I could see through the window that she had someone with her, some tall guy. They were talking and Helen gave him a kiss on the cheek. I backed away and returned to my cottage.

  I didn't sleep well that night. I knew that Helen wasn't married. She had told me that her husband died in a car accident years ago, but she never mentioned any male friend. I don't know why I was angry. It was foolish. Why should I expect Helen to be free, for me, for Sandy and me.

  The next morning there was a knock on my door. It was Helen.

  "Hi there," she said when I opened the door.

  Sandy jumped up and began to paw her leg. She stooped to pick him up and he gave her a kiss on the nose. I wanted to kiss her nose, too.

  "I saw your car out front," she said. "Back for another two weeks, are you?"

  "Uh … no," I stuttered. "I actually bought the place."

  Helen dropped sandy and leaped at me, throwing her arms about my neck. I was a bit shocked, but pleased at her reaction.

  "Oh that's wonderful!" she said. "We're neighbours and we'll see each other often, won't we? Now you must come and meet my brother. He's here for the weekend."

  It's hard to say how relieved I was to hear that. Her brother, for the weekend, how nice.

  Well, my life improved immeasurably since I bought that cottage. I spent every weekend there and, of course, every summer vacation. Helen cooked everything I ate at the cottage. I gained seven pounds that first summer. Her specialty was a creamy lasagna made with spinach noodles. We walked together along the beach each morning. Sandy was a different dog, twice as happy and twice as affectionate. I learned that Helen was a high school history teacher, very clever, very knowledgeable, very well travelled. She hid her talents we
ll. At the cottage she was just … just Helen, the gal next door, talking about TV episodes and reciting the private names she gave some of the birds on the lake, like Georgie and Barbie and Sam the great blue heron, and how carrots improve the taste of spaghetti sauce and why her green lasagna was better than the tomato variety.

  By Summer's end I knew that Helen and I must spend more time together. A week here and there just wouldn't suffice … so I asked her to marry me. Her reaction, her wonderful reaction, it was just what I expected. She jumped into my arms and kissed me violently. Sandy began to bark and wouldn't stop until she picked him up and cuddled him closely. Helen's smile just sort of lit up the room and her giggle filled my ears with delight.

  Chapter Three

  We sold my cottage and kept Helen's because it was so much nicer. My life as a bachelor is history now. I couldn’t imagine having spent so many years alone, with just a dog for company. In town, Helen and I moved into my condo. She cleaned it up nicely, with lots of plants and curtains and nice carpets and books to line my bare shelves.

  Helen and I have now been married for thirty-seven years. Sandy died long ago, but we both loved dogs so we got another Yorkie then two Shih Tzus, back to back. We had two kids who, fortunately, inherited Helen's characteristics and not mine. They both moved to the States and we seldom see them, just for Christmas and, sometimes, American Thanksgiving. When they were young, their favourite place was our cottage on Lake Erie.

  At every opportunity Helen and I drive to our cottage and she makes her famous green Lasagna. We spend a lot of time just sitting and watching the birds. Sam, the blue heron, was always there to greet us. If was clearly a different heron, but we still called him Sam. Our latest dog, a Yorkie pup, we called Sandy.

  Could life be any better?