Finding Love at the Cat House
Lillian Schumacher was, shall we say, on the far side of
middle-aged. She had been widowed for the past eight years and was feeling
persistently lonely. She hadn’t had any success at all in filling the sometimes
desperate, aching, isolated, emptiness that plagued her soul. Her cats were a
comfort, but they didn’t take the place of the companionship she had enjoyed
with her husband before he passed.
Lillian had certainly done her due diligence. She had
volunteered at the local hospital, participated in food drives and bake sales,
joined church-sponsored groups of mixed singles, and even subscribed to the
big-city newspaper so that she could scan obituaries for recent widowers. Being
a woman of reasonably good character and self-esteem, she gave that up about as
quickly as her brief inspection of the talent at the local bars.
To put it bluntly, Lillian had finally decided that she
wanted a man and she wanted one soon. Fortunately, Lillian was still smart
enough, worldly enough and self-possessed enough to tolerate some deferred
gratification. “Damn,” she thought, “If eight years isn’t sufficient deferred
gratification, I don’t know what is.” Still, Lillian wanted a particular kind
of man and she was determined to be as patient and persistent as necessary.
But, she had several problems to deal with first.
