Comfortable

She sat down her “Crazy Cat Lady” cup of piping hot green tea, picking up the daily newspaper ready to dive into another day of recklessness and obscurity found in the world.
Anne was a simple woman who enjoyed writing poetry and knitting her signature lace triangle tassel scarves; to be sold in the Christmas Market downtown.

Turning the page of the world news section of the paper, Anne stumbled upon a story so captivating it stopped her thought-process for a second. She thought to herself, “why is it so hard for someone like me to find a man. After my dear George passed away, I have never needed another warm body to keep me satisfied. I have my green tea, my newspapers, and Shelby – my 9 year old shorthaired calico – to keep me company.”

Anne had two grown children who she never hears from anymore after the death of her dear George. It wasn’t like they were a tight-knit kind of family but they had their fair share of good times.

Anne and George would bring their eldest, Melissa and Jonathon, their youngest, any place their hearts-desired – Disneyworld, Six Flags, even taking trips to Italy, Mexico, and England – but that wasn’t enough for them to eventually distance themselves.

Looking at her Shelby, Anne was so comfortable in the space she created for herself she forgot how to have a little fun and let her hair down. “I’m a beautiful, vibrant woman and here I am living like I’m halfway dead. What have I come to? I’m still young enough.”

That day Anne took herself off her couch and into the world she once knew. She put on her favourite Levi jeans, her blue Valentino top and black loafers from Aldo (one of her most comfy pair of shoes).

As Anne walked out into the sunny morning of Richmond Hill, she soon spotted her neighbour Mr. Randle, a carpenter and new father to a beautiful baby girl whom his wife and he welcomed two months ago. “Hey there Jonny, how’s princess Aria and Mama June doing?” Anne questioned. “They’re doing great, Anne. Thanks for asking. “

“You should come over one day and meet Aria and have dinner with us. It’s been a while and I’m sure June would be delighted to see you.” Anne nodded and waved goodbye to Mr. Randle, noting the date of the dinner with the Randle’s.

Driving in her Porsche Panamera E-Hybrid, Anne passed a few new homes and some stores she hadn’t seen much of since she went into hibernation five years ago. She would only leave her home if it was absolutely, positively, necessary – which nothing in particular was.

Turning into Yorkdale Mall, Anne spotted the Louis Vuitton store and got a little excited. She had been anticipating the Twist Tote that came out a few weeks’ back and couldn’t wait to get her hands on it. The make of the bag was so magnificent that it made every other bag Anne owned look like cheap knockoffs – but Anne wasn’t about that life.

After being in the Louis Vuitton store about an hour, Anne hears her stomach grumbling, to which she decided to head downtown to Jacob & Co Steakhouse for dinner. There she ordered the 36oz Canadian Prime Hereford-High River steak from Alberta and the Westcott Vineyard “Lenko Old Vines” Chardonnay 2014, VQA from Beamville, costing a whopping $324!!

She then pays her bill and gives a nice fat tip to her beautiful waitress, Sanaa, whom she learns was living paycheck to paycheck to keep herself and her baby afloat.

Walking out the door to her car, Anne passes a handsome gentleman. He had eyes as blue as the Atlantic Ocean; eyes you could only dream of; the ones that made you get lost in their gaze.

He brushed passed Anne ever so lightly, feeling like a tickle, so soft, like ice cream melting in the palm of your hands, the sexy, mysterious man wore an Armani suit with Gucci loafers, brown hair brushed delicately to the side, looking like an older, a more put together James Dean.

Men you only dream of in a Nora Roberts novel – those boys who make your heart skip a beat without even knowing who they are; their presence so powerful you get weak at the knees.

Feeling the crisp fall air run down her exposed shoulders, Anne could still feel the gaze of ‘mystery man’. She can’t seem to forget his scent – citrus fruit and the Yves Saint Laurent La Nuit De L’homme – soft and sweet, not overwhelmingly powerful and yet a far-reaching, intoxicating smell.

Anne spots an antique book store, something she’s missed since she went into “hibernation.” The feeling of going into a store so rich with scent, the smell of antique wood meshed with the smell of new and used books, being turned by the young and old. The feeling of being able to sit and run one’s elongated fingers across the page to turn the story you have found yourself lost in.

Stepping into the quaint shop, Anne steals a glance on the far-right side and spots her favourite author, Joseph Heller. She makes her way over to the stand and sees ‘Closing Time’ one of the few books she hasn’t read. Picking up the book and making her way to the cash register, she is glancing at him yet again; ‘mystery man’. Looking beautiful as ever, this time he’s glancing at her too: very intently. As she makes her way up in line, he ever so quietly mutters, “I see you know your literature. Joseph Heller is a great author.” Anne can barely form words but manages to muster out a soft “hmmm.”

The tall gentleman continues to proceed with his name – John Blarley III – and gave her his business card. “Well, give me a ring when you decide you want to talk about our love for Mr. Heller over coffee.”

With that he gave Anne a wink and was on his way.

Purchasing the book and getting into her car, on her way home Anne couldn’t help but smile.

Back home, Anne changed into her comfy silk pajamas, put on her fuzzy slippers, grabbed her “Crazy Cat Lady” filled with green tea and cozied up to Shelby. Looking down at the card, Anne grabbed her phone and dialed his number; “Hi John, it’s Anne from the books store…”