Carrie was great with people, caring and conscientious, and a good employee while she lasted. The problem was that wherever Carrie worked, she didn’t earn enough to support herself, and then she quit when she grew bored. Consequently, she lived at home.
“I was hoping you had some pearls of wisdom to give me.” Amanda sounded utterly defeated.
“Sorry, you’re on your own with this one, little sister.”
“Grrr.”
Julia smiled. “Failure to launch.”
“I remember the movie.” Amanda continued, “The parents plotted to convince their son to move out of the house. I don’t know that Robert and I could do that. I know he’s right; we aren’t helping Carrie move forward in life. Only I don’t know what else to do. She’s such a wonderful daughter and always has been. It’s not like we can kick her out. She’s our daughter.”
Julia didn’t know, either. She felt bad for her sister and wished she knew how to advise her. “Just be honest with her.”
Amanda sighed. “You make it sound simple and it isn’t.”
“I know.” Julia sympathized and wished she had a solution to offer. She knew Robert had offered to pay for an apartment for Carrie. She’d refused. Carrie insisted she would make it on her own or not at all.
“There’s another reason I called,” Amanda said, her voice brightening.
Simply by her sister’s tone, Julia again knew what was coming.
“I have someone I want you to meet.”
“No,” Julia said and moaned inwardly.
“Julia. I haven’t even told you who it is.”
“Not interested.”
“Come on. Don’t be so stubborn. Okay, so you’ve had a few dating disappointments…”
“A few, yes. More than enough to know that whoever it is, I’m not interested.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” This was an unwelcome subject.
“Do you seriously want to live the rest of your life alone?”
“Amanda, please, you know how I feel about this.” Following her divorce, Julia’s sister and other friends had made continual efforts to introduce Julia to a variety of single men her age. Most were divorced and carried more baggage than an international airline. She’d suffered through these attempts until she decided to give up dating entirely, even if it meant living the rest of her life single. She was content, happy, and had moved on, for the most part, without bitterness or resentment. The first couple years following her divorce had been a struggle until she wrote Eddie a long good-bye letter. Although she’d never mailed it, the process had given her a sense of closure. Even more, it helped her accept her life as it was; she didn’t need a man to feel complete. The letter and the aftermath had freed her, changed her outlook, which allowed her to move forward.
Eddie appeared to be happy. She spoke to him only about matters that involved their daughters, which were rare, now that both Hillary and Marie were in their twenties and on their own.
“Are you sure?” Amanda asked again. “Frank is perfect for you. Please reconsider.”
“Amanda, please. I’m not interested.”
“Okay, then, but you’re missing out.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. It doesn’t matter. I’m happy as I am.”
“If you say so,” Amanda said, her words heavy with doubt.
They spoke for a few minutes longer before Amanda ended the call.
* * *
—
Once she finished her coffee, Julia dressed and headed down to work out. The Heritage had an exercise room that, although small, was state-of-the-art. There were a couple treadmills and exercise bikes. Plus some weight-lifting equipment.
As a matter of habit, she exercised every afternoon, when she returned from work, walking off tension on the treadmill while listening to an audiobook or music. It was a good way to keep herself in shape. Before she knew it, she’d be sixty. She certainly didn’t feel that age. Not anywhere close. Her daughter had recently commented that sixty was the new forty. That was a stretch, but Julia would take it.
Most afternoons, the exercise room was empty. She wasn’t sure what she’d find when she altered her schedule to morning workouts. She preferred to have the room to herself.
To her disappointment when she arrived, she found a man, busily walking on the treadmill. He was big, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders. He wore a sleeveless shirt that was damp with sweat, as if he’d been going at top speed for some time, and shorts. She noticed how well defined his legs were. He had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. Julia had seen him around though she didn’t know his name. As best she could remember, he’d moved into The Heritage about a year ago but hadn’t participated in more than a few of the social gatherings. The other times she’d seen him, he’d been dressed in a suit and tie and made for a fine figure of a man. As she recalled, there’d been some speculation floating around about him and the condo concierge. Julia didn’t generally listen to gossip and couldn’t remember what the story was, since it was none of her concern. What she did know was that the management was taking applications for a new concierge.