Mark and I met at a local Senior's Center.
Both of us are healthy, active retirees in our mid 60s. He had lost his wife, Carrie, of 26 years to cancer about 9 months before we met. I had lost mine to surgery complications abour 11 months before.
Our mutual interests and lonliness drew us together like old friends meeting again after years apart. We watched sports, visited museums, played poker, had long talks and and listened to jazz. He came over to my place and reworked my late wife's flower beds. He had a green thumb and I didn't. I cooked him dinner. I'm a fair cook. We even double-dated to the several plays.
Neither of us wanted to begin a committed relationship, becuse both had been happily married to the loves of our lives. His grown daughters were married and living in New York and California. My son has disowned me.
We quickly settled into a once or twice a week get-together for a meal or an adventure.
That all changed the weekend we spent at Ted's lake house.
We spent Saturday making repairs and cleaning the house and yard. I fixed a lasagne from scratch for dinner.
Afterwards, we sat on the deck, working on the second bottle of Chianti, while watching the golden sun sink into the lake. A few high thin clouds glowed with vibrant shades of orange and red.
Ted sighed.
"Mark, you know what I miss the most?" he said.
"What?" I asked.
He smiled wistfully. "The massages Carrie used to give me after a day like this."
"That would be a perfect way to end the day."
"Of course, then we'd have great sex."
