[To everyone who is currently locked down. The world is a funny place full of people who like to read erotica. So maybe in some small way my works here can help defeat the boredom. Take care of yourselves everyone!]
***
I moved into a new condo lately. Just three weeks ago in fact.
It's a nice place, you know, with all the facilities people like to have. Swimming pool, outdoor of course so only available for half the year. A weight room and sauna and what they called a Zen garden. In truth it was just a short walkway in a space that could be closed in with huge glass panels in the winter like a green house. There were ferns, a few smallish trees and large rocks and benches to sit on. All told it wasn't a bad place to go and relax in silence for a while.
There were over two hundred units in the building and if the official floorplans were to be believed each one exactly the same as all the others.
I wondered from time to time if all the other residents were feeling exactly the same mortgage pain as me. In addition to the monthly maintenance fees I had an almost two thousand dollar payment due to the bank every month. I was barely scraping by even with the six figure salary I was pulling in.
I dined on hamburger and K-D a lot. I also had a larder full of dried goods like oatmeal, brown rice and dried banana chips.
I laughed about it sometimes. Here I was living in one of the most prestigious buildings in Toronto but I was eating like a peasant in the backwoods of Communist China!
One Saturday afternoon I was watching something on TV, something aimless and pointless because there wasn't much else I could do really. I couldn't even walk to the neighborhood coffee shop because I didn't have any cash. Nor did I have any money in the bank that wasn't already allocated toward the many bills I had to cover.
There was a knock on the door which I found odd. I wasn't expecting anyone and most of my friends were in about the same position as me financially. They were as unlikely to waste gas on a trip that wasn't absolutely crucial to earning a living as I was.
I opened the door and was surprised to see one of the women who lived on my floor. I think her name was Laura.
She was in her thirties I think. She had long straight auburn hair which was currently tied into a ponytail that hung almost to her waist. She was pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way with blue eyes and a pert little nose over a generous mouth.
"Hi," she said, "I'm Laura. I live a few doors up the hall."
"Hi Laura, I'm Robert," I replied.
She smiled a little awkwardly and held up a casserole dish.
"I know you're new to the building," she said, "I thought you might be able to use a home-cooked meal."
Wow! I'd never received anything like this before. I'd never been welcomed to any neighborhood I lived in by anyone.
"Really?" I said in surprise.
She smiled and blushed a little.
"I heard from the maintenance man that you were single," she said, "I know when I leave my husband alone he never eats properly. Every time I go away I come back to see he's been living on junk food or takeout."
"Thanks Laura!" I said, truly stunned, "That's really, well, I don't know what to say!"
"It's my pleasure," she said as she handed the dish to me.
It was still warm but not so hot I couldn't hold it comfortably.
"You'll have to warm it up before you eat it," she said, "But it should last you a day or two."
"Are you kidding?" I said with a laugh, "I'll be able to make this last a week!"
"Oh, that's nonsense!" she said, "There's probably two good meals in there, maybe three. But a healthy young man like you needs to eat properly!"
Then she backed away from the door and said her goodbyes.
About twenty minutes later there was another knock on the door. At first I thought it would be Laura to ask me for her casserole dish. I had already thought about transferring the meal into a plastic container. But I was wrong. It was a different woman. I thought I remembered seeing her on the grounds a few times but I had no idea what her name was.
She was in her mid to late thirties and, unlike Laura's slender figure, she was what some people might call plump. I preferred the term curvy. She had a generous bust and a full hourglass figure. With her brilliant blue eyes and short-cropped red hair with bangs that hung to her brow she was a real beauty! And those eyes of hers seemed to smile no matter what the expression on her face said.
"Hello there!" she said brightly, "You probably don't know my name because I don't know yours. I'm Brenda and I live on the next floor up, unit 803."
"Hi Brenda," I said, "I'm Robert."
"Now I do know you're single so there's no point in denying it," she said, "And I know that single men don't know how to take care of themselves! My husband is hopeless without me to take care of him. So I've made you a platter of lasagna. It isn't much but I know for sure it's better than what you have been living on. Am I right?"
I grinned and nodded. When I opened my mouth to tell her that someone beat her to the punch on feeding me, she started talking before I could get a word out.
"I know that Laura has already given you her signature casserole, so I don't expect you to finish this for a few days," she said, "You just get the pan back to me whenever you've finished with it."
Then she turned and walked away before I could speak.
Wow! Now I had enough food to last a week or more.
Before I had a chance to close the door I heard a voice calling out.
"Yoo hoo! Don't close the door!"
I looked to see a young brunette rushing toward me. She was barely thirty if that. She had a slim build but her oversized breasts jiggled erratically as she scurried over.
"I'm Darlene," she said, panting for breath slightly, "I'm on the welcome wagon too you see. I brought you a pound cake. Laura's casserole and Brenda's lasagna are great meals, but you need something sweet after you've eaten."
"Thank you Darlene," I said.
"It's my pleasure!" she said happily, "Just think of me when you eat this!"
She winked and then rushed away as quickly as she came.
I went back into my unit kind of dumbfounded. What a bunch of friendly people!
At dinnertime I was trying to decide between casserole and lasagna when there was another knock at the door. It was Laura. She was wearing a beige skirt that fell to her knees and a white sweater. Over top of all this she wore a frilly apron.
"Hi Robert," she said and brushed past me.
She walked deliberately toward the kitchen and I heard the sound of the oven door opening. By the time I caught up with her she was bent over and placing the casserole into the oven. I guess my dinner plans were decided.
She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled, then turned back to the oven.
