Lady Tabitha

“Do you realise what a lonely life you lead?”
“Do I? I didn’t think so.”
“Yes, you do Alan. I’m surprised you don’t think so. After all, you live by yourself.”
“Not quite,” replied Alan slightly offended by his friend’s remarks.
“Ok, so you have a dog.”
“Well, it’s not just any dog.”
Steve shook his head. “Just because you’ve named your dog Lady Tabitha, doesn’t mean she’s really Lady Tabitha. By the way, I’ve always meant to ask you, why did you name your black lab Lady Tabitha?”
“Long story. One for another time, but I don’t agree with your assumption that I’m lonely. Not by any means. Lady Tabitha is great company.”
“But she’s still a dog.”
“Oh, don’t tell her that! She’d be most offended.” Steve rolled his eyes and picked up his cup of coffee and made a face. “What’s the matter with the coffee?”
“Nothing other than a bug made the bottom of my cup its final resting place.”
Alan laughed. “Now that was a lonely life.”
Steve put the cup back in the saucer and waved to the waitress Greta who had known the two friends for about ten years.
“Have you ever noticed that Greta doesn’t seem to get any older? While we two are aging fast, she’s standing still.”
“Alan thinks you’re not growing any older, while the two of us are aging fast,” Steve said to Greta when she appeared at their table. “What’s your secret?”
“Botox,” she replied and smiled as she left with Steve’s cup to get him another filled with coffee. “Botox?” the two friends said to each other.
“Maybe that’s the secret. Maybe we should ask her to get us some.”
“No, you don’t get some. It’s not a pill. You have to go to a doctor who injects this liquid under your skin which essentially paralyses your muscles.”
“Oh yuck, that can’t be good for you. I’d rather just age gracefully.”
“Aging gracefully is what Greta does, we are just rugged.”
“Well, I’d rather be more like Greta than you. You can have rugged.”
Greta returned with Steve’s cup which had slightly overflowed and there was a little pond in the saucer. They didn’t mind. “By the way guys,” Greta said as she placed the cup and saucer in front of Steve. He noticed her hand was shaking slightly. “That thing about Botox, I was just kidding.”
“Oh good!” replied Alan in jest, “we were about to ask you where we should go to get some of those muscle paralysing injections.”
She made a face, “nah that’s not for me I’d rather grow old gracefully.”
“Unlike us you mean?” asked Steve lifting his cup and watching a few drips splash into the little pond. Very therapeutic he thought as he waited for the drips to stop so one didn’t land on his crisp white shirt. Greta watched but didn’t offer any assistance.
The two friends who had been going to the same restaurant nearly every Friday morning for breakfast over the last ten odd years swore they wouldn’t go back, but they did. “Why don’t we go elsewhere?” asked Steve many years ago, “after all, the food is awful.”
“Bloody awful!” added Alan, “simply because we would have to drive to go anywhere else.”
“That’s true. Here we just fall out of bed and roll down here.”
“Exactly my point, and it’s not as if we have to dress up, except that your shirts are always well ironed and your pants have a crease in them.”
“That comes from years in the corporate world my friend, something I’ve never been able to get away from.”
“Why doesn’t Eleanor stop you from doing that?”
“She tried many years ago but gave up.”
“I can’t imagine how you would dress if we did decide to go to another restaurant.”
“Me neither,” replied Steve. Alan was amused by Steve’s reaction to him watching the drips to end before he drank. “Great,” he said finally, “do you mind getting me a couple of paper napkins, I just want to sop up the spilt coffee.”
Without answering, Greta left and returned a moment later with a few paper napkins. “Sorry about that,” she said, “sorry, it’s my hands. They aren’t as strong as they used to be. I have a slight shake.” The two men smiled sadly, at least their hands didn’t shake they agreed.
They ate their nondescript breakfast in silence for a few seconds, while Alan tried to digest what his friend had told him about living a lonely life. “No, I’m sorry I don’t agree with you,” he said a few minutes later. “Lady Tabitha may not be a woman in the generally accepted term, but she’s the best.”
“I agree with you she’s a lot of fun, but she’s still a dog. Don’t you find that in the evenings you’d rather have some live person to talk to?”
“I talk to Lady Tabitha.”
“But she can’t answer you, can she?”
“I know, that’s how I like it.” Alan laughed once at the thought, “and we go to bed together.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do, but she doesn’t get under the covers with you, does she?”
“No, she sleeps on top of the bed,” he hesitated a second, “and that’s just how I like it.”
Steve smiled at his friend’s answer and then continued eating until he was done. Then he pushed his plate into the middle of the table, which was something Alan never approved of. “What are you doing today?” Steve asked fully aware of his friend’s look as he made his end of the meal move.
“Writing,” replied Alan, “but that’s after Lady Tabitha and I go for our five mile walk.”
“You don’t go for a five mile walk, do you?” asked Steve not believing Alan. “The island is only 2 miles long.”
“Yes, I know, and our house is right smack bang in the middle, so we do two and a half laps. That makes up five miles.”
Steve didn’t answer. He knew his friend was having him on. “Eleanor and I are having a party on Saturday you must come.”
“Why must I come?”
“Your friend will be there.”
“That’s a great reason for me not to come.”
“What do you have against Rachel?”
“Nothing! I’m sure she’s a lovely lady. But Lady Tabitha didn’t like her when she met her once a long time ago.”
“You mean she didn’t get Lady Tabitha’s seal of approval?”
“That’s very important.”
“In which case, no woman would get that.”
“And that’s my point. Why come to your party.”
“She really likes you.” In Steve’s mind, Alan lived a very lonely life and wanted him to branch out and introduce him to someone who may be a good companion. But Alan wasn’t having any of that. “How many pages have you written so far in the book?”
“A thousand,” answered Alan with a sly smile.
“A thousand, oh my goodness! Are you writing an encyclopaedia?”
“No, it’s a wartime romance novel.”
“Any end in sight?”
“None yet.”
“I see. So now I know why you live by yourself, you have no idea about romance. A thousand pages and nowhere near the end!”
Alan winked at his friend, “are you ready to go.”
“Only if you are. I’m quite content sitting here to see if any other creatures want to dive bomb into my coffee.”
“Did another?” Steve didn’t reply and instead tipped his cup so Alan could see the drowned insect.
“Why mine and not yours?” he asked.
“Probably thinks you’re the one who needs company, not me.”