A short story

This week’s story comes from an NYC Midnight contest. I had the questionable luck of drawing romantic comedy as my assigned genre, and I had to include a gymnast and the action of being “tech-savvy.” This was part of the short story challenge, and I wrote this one for the third round of the competition. I’ll give myself kudos for making it through the first two rounds, even though I didn’t advance past this one. I did have fun though, and that counts for something.

By the way, the photo I’m using to illustrate this week’s story is from our visit to Kauai this year. We stayed at a condo with an ocean view. It was a lovely trip with family and I will share more about that trip soon. For now, please enjoy my venture into the romance genre.

An Unexpected View

Kate Aldridge finally departed (for Florida, not heaven) from her two-bedroom condo in the Park Haven retirement community. Lena Stafford had long coveted Kate’s balcony. The second-floor view of the neighboring nature preserve was perfect for capturing images of migrating birds she could post to her Facebook group.

Lena’s apartment faced the parking lot. From her balcony she watched ambulances ferrying residents off to the hospital or to another permanent destination.

When the condo sale was posted, Lena would be ready. She had her real estate agent on speed dial, her earnest money in hand, and her moving boxes ordered. There were few interested in the condo, as most Park Haven residents were satisfied with smaller places. She could out bid every buyer except one—Arthur McCay.

The week after Kate moved out, Lena met her best friend, Miriam, in the community common room. They sipped wine from matching mugs and worked on a puzzle. Lena wore her usual outfit of neutral colors, blending into the background. A tan canvas fanny pack held her iPhone.

Miriam wore a Hawaiian shirt with pink and orange flowers and a matching headband.  

“Here he comes,” Lena said. They had been discussing Lena’s upcoming bid on the condo. She had instructed her realtor to send it over the minute the home listed. One mention of Arthur’s name and the man himself appeared as though summoned.

Miriam tried forcing a puzzle piece into the wrong place. “You’re obsessed with him.”

Arthur, an ex-Olympic gymnast, was a hot catch in the community. Six feet tall, he had silver hair and blue eyes a shade darker than his locks. Lena told herself her interest extended solely to how much money he had on hand. Arthur McCay had founded a lucrative nutritional supplement company, and rumor had it that he had sold it for millions. Lena, a retired software engineer, had considerably less than that in the bank.

“Afternoon, ladies.” Arthur stopped at their table. “Have you seen the cork board?” He held up a hand printed yellow flyer. “I need to post the sign-up sheet for my yoga class.”

“They moved it by the restrooms,” Lena said. “We use a digital bulletin board now. I added it to the Parkview Haven website.”

“I don’t get online much,” Arthur said.

Lena held out her hand. “I can post a sign-up link. What’s your email address?”

“Thanks, but I don’t check it often. You can use my phone number. It’s on the flyer.” He gave Lena the paper and winked at Miriam. “I’ll tack a copy to the cork board, in case there are old-timers like me around.”

“I teach a free internet class—Surfing for Seniors.” Lena tucked the flyer into her fanny pack.

“Oh!” Miriam tugged Lena’s arm. “You could trade – internet for yoga.”

“Sure thing.” Arthur smiled. “There’s a chair yoga class, too. If you want to start with something easier.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Lena stuck out her tongue at his departing back. “Start easier. Ha! He should learn something himself.” Why was she so angry? She supposed it was the competition for the condo. It wasn’t fair. Arthur lived in a top floor apartment that already had a view of the woods next door. He didn’t need another place. Lena gulped the last of her wine, then slammed the mug onto the table. “He probably still has the first computer he bought at Radio Shack.”

Miriam leaned forward and cupped a hand next to her mouth to whisper, “I heard he owns a flip phone.”

That Friday, Lena agreed to go with Miriam to the yoga class. She dug from her closet the foam mat she purchased when she signed up for an exercise class on Zoom. That effort failed during the first session, when Lena turned off her camera and took a nap on the mat.

When they arrived at yoga, Arthur was setting up a large boom box. He was dressed exactly like Lena in loose gray sweats and a white t-shirt. Good lord, they could be one of those couples who wore matching outfits.

“I didn’t know there was a uniform,” Miriam said as she rolled out her mat. Miriam wore fluorescent green tights, pink leg warmers and a sweatshirt with the words “Let’s Get Physical” emblazoned across the front.

Arthur popped a cassette tape into the player, and a wave of soft notes and chimes filled the room. “Good morning and welcome.” He turned his blue-eyed gaze to Lena. “We will start with stretching.”

As they worked their way through the poses, Lena relaxed. This wasn’t so hard, and Arthur demonstrated variations of the forms for those who had physical limitations. Toward the end of class, she wobbled getting into Warrior I.

“Try to keep your hips square with the front of the mat.” Arthur padded over to her.  

Frustrated, Lena glanced around the room. At least no one was watching her performance.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Arthur held his hands out, palms up.

Lena nodded yes. His fingers brushed her waist, moving her hips forward. “Drop your shoulders and relax.” With the lightest touch, he started at her neck, and ran his hands to rest lightly on her shoulders.

She exhaled and lifted her hands higher, ignoring the blush heating up her face.

Three days later, Lena rose early, before the heat set in, packed a bottle of cold water in her fanny pack, and headed to the nature preserve. At the entrance, she downloaded a trail map onto her phone. The yoga workout had made Lena realize she spent too much time sitting at her laptop, waiting to hear from her agent. She’d sent over her offer the day before.

Hearing an unfamiliar bird call, she weaved through the brush trying to find the source. Instead, she located a path that wasn’t marked. This track led to a ridge above the creek winding through the park. Where was that bird? She lifted her phone to at least capture the sound on video. Two steps closer to the edge of the drop off, her foot slid in loose dirt and she tumbled, ass over teakettle, down the ridge and into the shallow creek.

“Oh!” Lena cried out, managing a weak “Help.” Her hip ached and her foot was bent underneath her. Whimpering, she untangled her limbs. Ten feet away, her phone buzzed. Moments later, she realized her watch, registering her fall, had called 911. “Oh no.” Lena tried and failed to reach the phone and cancel the call, more humiliated than injured. She crawled out of the creek right before the ambulance arrived and the EMTs insisted on taking her to the hospital.

Four hours of prodding and two x-rays later, Lena was cleared to leave the emergency room. They had rescued her phone also, and Lena tried calling Miriam for a ride. No answer. She could call an Uber, but hated to add the expense. Then she remembered the flyer with Arthur’s phone number. It was still in her fanny pack, where she’d stashed it after posting the sign-up info. She took it out and called him.

Once they arrive back at Park Haven, he insisted on helping her get settled in her apartment. “Is there anything else you need?” he asked.

“I’m okay. No broken bones, but I have a bruise shaped like Texas on my hip.”

“I bet that’s a sight.” Arthur stuttered, “I mean…”

“No offense, it really is something. At least now I know my watch and phone will look out for me if I have another hard fall.”

Arthur gave her a confused look, so Lena explained about the automatic call for help. “That’s interesting,” he said. “Something to think about.”

The next morning, Lena was propped up in bed, resting her hip, when she got the call from her realtor, telling her the condo had sold to someone else. Right after that, her Ring camera alerted her to a visitor. Arthur.

Why was he here? He held a shopping bag. Had he brought her a consolation present? She considered ignoring him, but finally pushed herself out of bed and answered the door.

“Congratulations,” she said. “The condo. You were the winning bid, right?”

“I didn’t buy it. I’m happy where I am.” He shook his head. “Were you bidding on it?”

“I wanted that park view.”

“Oh.” Arthur held up the shopping bag. “I need some help if you have time.”

“Sure. I owe you for the ride home. What do you need?”

He opened the bag and pulled out a new iPhone and an Apple watch. “It’s time to join the twentieth century.”

“It’s the twenty-first, Arthur.”

“Let’s take it one century at a time. I’ve got a good view of the park. Come over and help set up this stuff. We can have coffee on my balcony. Watch the birds.”

Lena nodded. “That’s a good trade.” And maybe a good start for something more.

The End