I won a short story contest with this entry in 2017. Hope you all like it! (just a bit longer than usual, not much!):

Tucker was tired of waiting. She had said she’d be here today, right here at this place, to meet him. Like so many others, so many broken promises. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to trust again, and yet, here he was. Waiting. He turned around and faced the window again, looking, almost searching. She wasn’t there. He didn’t check the clock, but he was sure it was past the time that had been set. She wasn’t coming. He knew it in his heart, and yet he waited.
The man with the deep voice came by. He refilled his water and smiled kindly. “Be patient,” he said, as though he was reading Tucker’s mind. Tucker wasn’t that tired of waiting. He was also nervous and excited and just wanted her to get here.
Tucker passed a few moments watching the city workmen putting lights on the trees alongside the street. It was only a couple months, maybe less, until the Christmas holiday would be here. Right now, Tucker could still see autumn in full glory. Tucker didn’t dare hope he would be in a relationship by Christmas.
A few more long minutes passed. He heard her approach first; the creaking of the door; a firm yet gentle, footstep. Then he smelled her. He inhaled deeply and breathed in the light, spicy perfume. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to smell that wonderful scent first thing in the morning, after a long cuddle. He turned as slowly as he could and saw her for the first time. She was breathtaking. He was so enthralled he was quaking. He finally met her gaze, and saw her wide, open smile and bright eyes. Were they blue? Hazel? Something light, not like his own deep brown. And what he saw in those eyes made the hope he thought was gone flutter a little, like a leaf in the breeze.
She held out her hand and he took it. “Hi, there,” she said, simply. He shook her hand and then quietly stood, standing as tall as he could. Maybe this time, he thought, would be different. Maybe this one, he prayed, is the one. And he stepped forward, stepped carefully closer and said hello.
It was not an exciting first experience, perhaps, but both of them seemed content. For Tucker, it was absolutely perfect. They went for a walk, to a place he had been before – the walking trail along the levee. He loved to watch the Great Miami as it churned, and to smell the fishy smell and to see the people out on boats and jet skis. There were no boats or skis this late in the year, but some ducks and geese provided entertainment for them.
It turned into a long walk, and as they walked, they found more and more to share. Tucker could not believe how interested she seemed in getting to know him. For reasons he did not understand, he felt he could be open with her. He was afraid, but he could not resist, so he just allowed it to happen. He shared everything that was most important to him with her. He told her how much he loved the outdoors – how free he felt when he was in the woods or a field and could just breathe in the air and hear the animals. He told her how he loved games. He wanted to show her, but they had no games with them, so he could only imagine how much fun they could have. He let her know how much he needed affection, and touched her as often as he could without being repelled. He didn’t think he could stand it if she rejected him.
As they walked, Tucker reveled in the sights, sounds and smells of the Midwest fall. Leaves crunched under their feet, and smelled of trees and bonfires and all good things. The leaves were changing colors, and at one point the woman picked up a large red maple leaf and carried it in one hand, twirling it around between her thumb and forefinger.
He loved the touch of her hand and the way she walked close to him. He listened as she pointed out flowers and trees and shrubs – she seemed to know the names of every one! And they all sounded wonderful and different as she talked about them. She used his name when she spoke with him and he loved the sound of it from her voice. As they walked under the bridge and into a wooded area, she talked quietly to him about her hopes and dreams. She admitted that she was lonely. At one point, she stopped and turned to face him. He simply stared back into her eyes, searching. She smiled and said, “This is going unbelievably well, isn’t it?” His heart leapt, and they continued their walk.
Tucker had had this happen before; this feeling that everything was perfect and he had had the rug pulled out from under him. He knew he was big and clumsy, and he knew that sometimes he came on too strong. He had a lot of first dates, but not very many second ones. And the times he thought he had a permanent relationship, well, they hadn’t worked out. The complaints about him seemed endless, he reflected.
Samantha had been very affectionate at first, but had ultimately decided that he had too much energy. He demanded too much time. She had wanted to cuddle and watch movies, but never wanted to play games, go outside, or even take walks! He had really liked Toni at first, but she had quickly proven to be both fussy and demanding. She was very possessive of her things and picky about her furniture and collections. Her grievances with him grew so much that eventually she even said he ate too fast! The last relationship had been the hardest. He had liked Robyn very much. She had been kind and fun-loving, and he felt very good about her. He had told her from the beginning that he hated cats, and she kept it from him at first that she had three. When he finally realized it, he balked, but Robyn insisted on him getting to know them. She even wanted them to take a vacation with the dreaded creatures! He tried to understand, but he felt his honesty had been betrayed.
Tucker thought about his buddy, Jack. Jack had told him women were fickle and he preferred his bachelor life, as he called it. Jack ran around with his buddies all day, and all night. He ate food that wasn’t good for him, and didn’t keep regular hours. Jack said it was better that way, and easier, and he loved the fun and the freedom. Tucker thought about that lifestyle, and though he knew Jack thought he was nuts, it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted something more permanent.
This time, though, this time felt different. It felt right. The time flew as they continued to share themselves, and to learn about each other.
First impressions, Tucker knew, could be misleading. He didn’t want to have that hope swell up, to fall into infatuation and then to fall in love and then to be left. Again. He didn’t want any of that, but despite what he wanted, this woman with the soft hands and deep gaze was making him feel all of it. Tucker felt something more, too, or maybe he just wished for more. He wanted this woman. He wanted her very much.
He did everything possible to impress her during that first meeting. He walked close beside her, not ahead, not behind. He listened to her carefully and attentively. If distractions came into his sight or hearing or head, he ignored them. He focused only on her and tried to memorize every nuance of her speech, her gestures, her posture and her interests. He tried to curb his exuberance, and his passions, and yet let them show through. He wanted her to know him, and appreciate him for who and what he was. Tucker silently cursed his German heritage, feeling it had led to many a character flaw that ultimately led to women rejecting him.
Their walk finally brought them back full circle. A couple of blocks before their destination, she stopped. She was looking in a store window and Tucker became concerned. He looked briefly at the tree in the window, decorated with many ornaments and garlands. Wrapped packages were strewn carefully around the base of the tree. Tucker looked back at her and could see her eyes mist over as she gazed at the display, but she smiled when she turned to him. He felt his heart begin to pound when she said quietly, “I feel so alone anymore. I really don’t want to be alone another Christmas.” Tucker stood quietly beside her, willing her to feel comfort in his warmth.
Then she turned away, still smiling and said, “Well, look at us. Maybe we won’t be alone this Christmas.”
They turned and began to walk again.
They had been together for over two hours. He felt exhausted from trying so hard and from sharing so many things with her. They had returned to the meeting place, and he sat down, waiting for what was to come next. He knew what he wanted. He already thought of her as his own. What he did not know was what she wanted. Tucker suddenly didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to communicate to her or how to express what he was feeling. He was very nervous and could only stare at her.
The familiar deep voice broke Tucker’s trance. “Well, how did it go?” it inquired.
His lady responded, “It was wonderful. He is perfect in every way. I want to take him home right now.” Tucker couldn’t believe it. No second date? They were going on first impressions?
The deep voice said, with a chuckle, “Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can bring him back.”
Tucker sat, rigidly at attention, eagerly awaiting her next words.
“No worries,” she laughed. “This is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever given myself and is one sale you will not be refunding. This great, Great Dane will make my life complete.” With that, and a new leash, Tucker went out with his lady to live his grand life.

Recently, I’ve become aware that there are a lot of products in the grocery stores that sound fabulous, but that simply don’t live up to their descriptions.
I know the manufacturer’s probably employ a host of staff to develop pictures and written scripts on boxes to entice the customer to purchase something. Maybe I’m such a terrible cook, I’m unable to get the mung bean pasta to look anything like the fluffy, delicious picture. It simply looks like a pile of fox dung. In fact, the fox dung in our woods looks a tad more appetizing.
Perhaps my mistake is in thinking that anything that is primarily made from mung bean would be tasty, appetizing, or just plain good. It’s many things, but “pasta”? It is not.
Alternative to standard pastas have become prevalent in the past few years. Folks are on keto and paleo diets which make eating white flour (and may I add delicious) pasta products a big no-no. So we look for “alternative” pastas. In our household, we have tried the horrible mung bean pasta. Just don’t do that. We’ve also tried lentil, chickpea, black bean, and a rather mysterious “plant-based” pasta. I say mysterious because it’s not clear exactly what plant or plants this “pasta” is based on.
All of these serve as a vehicle for meatballs and sauce that are edible. None of them heat up well. What I mean by that is, they are terrible heated up. Nothing like good old baked spaghetti should be.
These products have “pasta” written in big, bold letters on the boxes. The actual plant from which they are made is much smaller. The pictures look like normal noodles. The actual cooked product, not so much. And the textures are typically like rubber bands.
These products, I confess, have not been recommended to me by any of my friends or relatives. Unlike our trip to New Orleans, before which every person I knew told us we had to – HAD TO – get coffee at Café Du Monde. They suggested this because everyone I know realizes that coffee is my absolute favorite beverage. So we went there and had coffee and beignets. The beignets were the best pastry I’ve ever put in my mouth! The coffee was the worst. I had to surreptitiously find a trash can and remove it from my presence. To be fair, it had hints of coffee – very bitter coffee – with overriding notes of used car oil.
We’ve had other experiences with much-touted food that has left us bewildered. Years ago, friends took us for an hour-long drive to go to a restaurant so that we could get “the best Salisbury steak you’ve ever had.” While the meal did include some type of ground meat (steak would be a stretch), it was difficult to cut, harder to chew, and tasted a little bit like the bottom of a shoe. It was a long ride home, bouncing through the country with an upset stomach.
This spring, we visited a winery and purchased a product the staff assured us “tastes like a Dreamsicle.” Shades of my youth! We opened it last night and there is definitely a strong orange flavor. It mostly tasted like Dayquill. I tried mixing it with some orange-flavored water, but that just made it taste like Tang. It made a lovely coral stain on our sink as we poured it out.
Food products are just not living up to the hype. I think I’ll stick with bacon and eggs, cinnamon toast, and my mom’s recipes.

Last week, I shared a senior moment with my sister-in-law that was so bizarre it was almost not funny. But it was funny. In fact, it was hilarious.
We were having a cookout for Memorial Day and she was to bring some kind of fruit dish. She brought all the makings for a delicious fruit pie – sugar free graham cracker crust, cool whip, blueberries and strawberries. She opened the crust package and began to blend the fruit into the cool whip.
Then she poured the mixture into the crust. I stood next to her for a moment as she looked around the counter. “Where’s the lid?” she asked me. “I know there’s a lid here somewhere.”
We looked all over the counter. We checked her bags. I even ran out to her car to check the seats. The lid did not appear to be in the vicinity. Finally, she lifted up the pie filling and checked under it, on top of the crust.
Yep, you read that correctly. I watched her do it. She lifted it all up and we both looked underneath. The lid was not on top of the crust.
What we both failed to realize – sharing that amazing senior moment together – was that the lid was on top of the crust! At least it was, when she set the filling back down.
We realized this when, after dinner, we tried to cut the pie. She had made the filling IN the lid of the pie crust. That was convenient when we wanted to look underneath it, but not so when we wanted to cut the pie.
Everyone had a great laugh was we spooned out the filing and used the crust as “cookies” to scoop. Turns out, it was just as tasty and gave us a good memory. Or at least a lasting one.
Later this week, I shared such a moment with my husband. We were making breakfasts and I was going to put a banana in my smoothie. Typically, he wants half the banana. This is great for me, because I’m not a huge fan of bananas and only put it in my smoothie because it’s good for me (potassium and all that).
So I asked him, “Do you want half a banana?” He responded, “No.” This I swear on my cat’s ashes! He said, “No.”
Meanwhile, I started putting the old banana into the blender with the other ingredients. Usually, he uses the blender after me to make his own smoothie and so again, I asked him, “Do you want half this banana for the smoothie?”
My error (according to him) was I didn’t say “do you want it for YOUR smoothie.” Because he once again declined and I put the whole thing into the blender with my other stuff. I poured my smoothie and handed him the pitcher.
At this point, he said, “Where’s my banana?” and so a ridiculous exchange of “you said” “no I didn’t” began. Finally, I realized that he meant he didn’t want the half a banana in THE smoothie, but he DID want it for HIS smoothie.
It’s funny getting old. Honest.

A couple of weeks ago, a deer hit our car as we were driving home. Literally. We didn’t even see her (him?) coming. At the very last nanosecond, we saw a nose in the window of the driver’s side, and then – BAM! A huge thump, the car swerved a bit, and there was no sign of the animal.
Well, there was no sign of the actual animal. The car, however, showed a lot of sign that the animal had existed. The back door on the driver’s side was crumpled, with a scrape down the edge, and the back rear panel had a dent.
We dutifully reported the incident to the police, and filed the insurance claim. Fortunately, deer/car collisions are so commonplace in Ohio that there are no nasty repercussions, at least police and insurance-wise.
Getting three estimates was another matter. One place didn’t acknowledge our request. The second one said they’d have an estimate in a “day or two.” They must have gone to general contracting school, because we got the actual estimate in two weeks – give or take a day or two (so 17 days later). The third place had the estimate in our email before we even got home. They won.
Best of all, our insurance appears to be the gold star of insurance policies (which may account for why it’s so gosh-darned expensive). We are allowed to have a rental car, for the duration of the repair.
I naively thought this would be a day or two, but it sounds like it might be more like a couple of weeks. Again, in contractor lingo, that could be a month or more!
So today we picked up our rental car. I should have expected something strange when the woman on the phone said, “Do you want a 5-seat SUV like you currently have?”
Um, no. I don’t currently have such a thing. I have a 10-year-old sedan.
She rebounded nicely and said, “The businessmen clean us out of sedans early, so will an SUV be acceptable?”
Why not, I thought.
We picked it up, and here’s why not:
It’s brand, spanking new. I think it had 20 miles on it.
It’s a Cadillac. A Cadillac!! I’ve never driven a Cadillac before! It is a six-seat SUV with trunk space. Trunk? Is that the right term for the back part that would fit a small cow in it?
It’s harder to get in and out of than my old sedan. Only because I’m not used to it, I think. But the bells and whistles are astounding! (and confusing).
It took me a minute to realize that you push the gearshift backward to make it go in “D” (that’s for drive) and you push it forward to make it go in “R” (that’s reverse). I think that’s counterintuitive, but time will tell. I do hope I get it right before I push on the accelerator.
It’s doesn’t have a CD player (WHA???) but it DOES have Sirius XM. All glorious 104 channels. The radio volume and dial are on the console, so you don’t have to reach up to fiddle with them. They are right at your hand!
There is a fancy cover that pulls out to cover up your two coffee holders. So if you spill, you don’t have to look at it!
The console has a little pouch for your phone. It charges your phone while you drive! Without a cord! It’s magic!
I researched this baby online and turns out it costs about $75,000 to purchase such a thing. I will not be spilling coffee, pushing on the accelerator in the incorrect gear, or – god willing – hitting any deer! My insurance might pay for any of that, but I really can’t afford any higher rates. Who am I, Rockefeller?