Quartet: Eleanor Ch. 03

Roger returned to Canada almost three thousand miles from his home in Vancouver. Toronto was a new environment to him. It was a big city with big buildings and big ambitions. Its transit system was the envy of many cities throughout the world. It was clean, modern, safe and constantly growing. Roger relished the opportunity to be a part of this vibrant organization. He threw himself into his new job and enjoyed the challenge and the freedom he now had. He was alive again. The only thing missing in his life was companionship.

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Like Eleanor, Roger's office was walking distance from the apartment building and while he had a car, it had few miles on it since its purchase; sitting in his underground space and usually only venturing out on weekends. They would pass each other occasionally as they entered and left the building, but aside from the one encounter at the mail boxes, they had no conversations other than polite 'hello-nice day' types. Near the second Christmas that Eleanor would celebrate in Toronto, a notice was included in each mailbox for all the tenants. It was an invitation to a social mixer; a "get to know you party" that the building owners had planned in the large main floor assembly area. The room was used as a rental for all sorts of personal purposes; wedding receptions, private parties and the like. This time, the owners had uncharacteristically decided to host a reception for their tenants. It was truly out of the ordinary considering the trouble it took to effect maintenance and repair to various facilities.

Roger thought the reception was a good idea and it would give him a chance to meet some of his fellow "inmates" and see if there were any more eligible women in the building. He was particularly interested in whether the attractive woman in 815 might be attending. The building housed about 140 apartments of one size or another and there might be over 200 people attending this unexpected social.

Eleanor thought little of the reception when she read the notice. It didn't hold much interest for her; although she might get an opportunity to meet a few more of the other apartment owners and possibly find a familiar face or two. She had few friends in Toronto outside her office and business associates and was thinking that after a year and a half of being here, she could at least make an attempt to expand her circle of acquaintances. She put the notice on her office desk and promptly forgot about it. She was returning from a brief shopping excursion a few days later when she noticed the noise and large number of people milling about in the lobby. She stopped to peer into the reception room and then asked a nearby woman what the occasion was.

"It's the reception ... you know ... the one put on by our skinflint owners." she answered tartly.

"Oh, of course. I'd forgotten all about it." Eleanor pushed the button for the eighth floor as she entered the elevator and headed for her apartment. She put away the few groceries she had purchased and then, as an afterthought, looked at herself in the hall mirror. Declaring herself presentable, she left her apartment, headed back to the elevator and returned to the main floor. As she walked into the large room, she was struck by the number of people who had decided to take advantage of the owner's generosity. She wandered toward a nearby bar, recognized an open bottle of decent French Chablis and ordered a glass.

"How much?" she asked.

"Nothing ma'am." was the barman's polite reply. "Compliments of BDR Group."

"Thank you." she said smiling and walking away. There was another bar on the other side of the room and a large table of what appeared to be hors d'oeuvres. The room was noisy but the crowd was socializing well. She scanned one side, looking for a familiar face to say hello to and could recognize no one. She turned toward the far end and saw the nosy woman from across the hall and quickly turned away, hoping she had not seen her. She began to despair that she would find someone to at least talk with about the weather and the upcoming Christmas season when she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder.

Roger had almost given up looking for someone interesting to talk to. He had chatted with a few acquaintances from the building, but there was little to interest him so far. He certainly hadn't seen anyone of the various single women that he was aware were tenants; particularly the rather striking woman in 815. He was about to surrender to the hopelessness of his quest when he saw her standing at the bar, picking up a glass of white wine. He began to work his way through the crowd toward her, careful not to spill any of his Cabernet on the guests as he weaved his way through the various clusters towards where she had been. As he approached the bar, he realized she had moved and he stopped and again looked for her. She emerged from behind another group of people and seemed to be looking around the room for someone. Her back was toward him as he approached her; lightly touching her bare shoulder with his fingertips.

"Oh!" Eleanor started at the unexpected touch. She turned to see a familiar face, but it took her a moment to connect him with how they had met.

"I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to startle you ... Eleanor?"

"That's right. Oh ... yes ... I remember ... the mail box. Mr. ...?"

"Inhalt, Roger Inhalt." He smiled his genuine pleasure at finding her here. "I was hoping you'd be here." he confessed.

"Really?" Eleanor gave Roger her patented arched eyebrow look. It immediately implied dubious motives on his part.

"Yes. Look around you. There aren't many people of our age group in this building. Mostly seniors and a few up-and-coming young executive types. We are an identifiable minority." he smiled.

"Well, you're probably right. Aside from you and my nosey neighbor from across the hall, I don't see anyone I recognize here." she said flatly.

"Sad, but true. We live with about 200 or so souls in a very small place and yet don't really know anyone."

"How did you remember my name? It's been weeks since the 'mail box affair'" she smiled.

"I have a good memory for things I want to remember." he grinned.

"Lucky you! I envy people who can do that. I work in Public Relations and someone can introduce themselves to me and half the time I've forgotten their names before we've finished the conversation. Not a good trait I think."

"Well, I'm an engineer. We are trained to think like that. It's a blessing and a fault. Linear thinking, that is."

"And what do you engineer, Roger?"

"I work for the T.T.C. I'm a medium sized cog in a big wheel. Oh, bad pun ... sorry." he laughed.

"Actually it's quite a good pun. Do you enjoy your work?"

"I do, very much. It's important. Millions of people rely on us to get them from one place to another and we have a great reputation. I was very lucky to find this job when I wanted to come back to Canada." he stated sincerely.

"Where were you before this?" she asked.

With that, Roger began to tell her about himself. Eleanor was interested. He wasn't boring or glib and he was obviously very smart. He briefly mentioned his divorce and his son, but other than that, he talked about less self-absorbed topics. He had been living in the building for five years. She was enjoying their conversation and she knew that sooner or later, she would have to reciprocate with something about herself.

"You haven't been here long, Eleanor. Where were you before?" he finally asked.

"Calgary. I ... I've been hear for a year and a half. My husband ... my husband died and I needed a change of scenery." she stammered quietly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry." His look was sincere and Eleanor realized it was one of the very few times she had actually told someone why she was in Toronto. She felt comfortable with Roger and it allowed her to relax; not to be so much on guard.

"It's alright. I'm finally used to the idea. It's been ... difficult for a while. I keep wondering if I'll ever get past it. I think that's finally starting to happen. At least I can talk about it and that's a big step for me." She looked up at Roger and saw in his face the concern and compassion he was feeling. It gave her another shot of courage.

"It must have been hard for you too, Roger. Leaving your wife and son in California and coming here on your own." She was trying to share the hurt with him.

"Yes. It took me a long time to get over the divorce. I thought we were ... forever. She was seduced first by the lifestyle and then by someone else. It wasn't good for my ego, I can tell you." he offered with a wry smile.

Unconsciously, Eleanor reached out and briefly held his hand. "I think we should change the subject, Roger. This is a happy time of the year and we should be thinking about the good things in our lives."

Roger blinked for a moment and then smiled at her. "You're very understanding and I am enjoying being with you this afternoon. I am delighted you are here."

Roger skillfully changed the subject to more mundane topics and tried to introduce Eleanor to several of the tenants he knew. Eleanor appreciated his efforts to make her more comfortable with her surroundings and after a while they drifted toward the hors d'oeuvres table.

"Would you care to have dinner with me, Eleanor?" he grinned as he passed her a paper plate.

"Why thank you, Roger, I'd be delighted." she grinned back at him. She was enjoying herself for the first time since she had been in Toronto and it felt good. They slowly worked their way around the table, nibbling on various snacks as they went. Roger disappeared briefly to refill their wine glasses and they found a pair of unoccupied chairs to sit for a few moments while they enjoyed the food. They continued to talk back and forth about anything and everything. She learned about his very bright son, Steve and he learned about her very dear niece Julia. They talked about family quite a bit and Eleanor even shared some of her adventures with her "Sister Rosalind".

When Eleanor looked at her watch finally, it was past eight in the evening. She had been at the reception for three hours and she realized many of the people had left. She and Roger had been talking for quite a while and she had obviously enjoyed it.

"Oh Roger, I think it's time to call it a day. I've really enjoyed this though. I really enjoyed talking with you." she said smiling at him.

"Well, in the way of a confession, I was wondering if you'd be here this afternoon. You had made quite an impression on me that morning at the mailbox and I guess I was hoping I would get to know who you were. I consider myself very lucky to have had that opportunity today."

"Well, maybe we can do this again sometime; only with a few less people around." she laughed.

"That would be great. Can I call you? Perhaps we can have coffee some time?" he asked hopefully.

Eleanor fished around in her purse and pulled out her personal business card. "Here's my number. You already know my address." she grinned.

Roger pulled a business card from his jacket vest pocket and quickly wrote his apartment number and phone on it. "There. Now we can call each other."

He walked her to the elevator and they rode up to the eighth floor in silence. As Eleanor started to leave, she turned to Roger and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. She smiled, turned again and left the elevator just as the doors began to close. He never even got the chance to say good night. She couldn't see the stunned look on Roger's face as the car continued its assent to the fourteenth floor. When the doors opened at his destination, it took him a moment to realize he had arrived. He walked down the hall in a zombie-like trance as her kiss had caught him completely off-guard. He managed to open his apartment door and walk in, but had no clear recollection of doing so. He was operating by memory; his mind had been completely scrambled with her simple gesture.

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