An Unexpected Company

This short story is from <Heartwarming Collection of Short Stories for Seniors: 2 Books in 1> by Bradley Windrow. It is perfect for seniors, even for dementia patients. Be sure to read until the end, as there’s a special gift waiting for you! hope you enjoy it!

A single rose can be my garden… a single friend, my world. –Leo Buscaglia

Frank decided he’d invite Ted over for tea. Ted was his go-to guy for gardening advice, and Frank figured they’d spend the afternoon debating whether fertilizer made any real difference. He glanced outside and saw who he assumed was Ted crouched over his flower beds.

“Ted! Hey!” Frank called, waving enthusiastically. “Fancy coming over for some tea in an hour? Got biscuits, too!” A man straightened up and waved back. An hour later, the doorbell rang. With a plate of biscuits in one hand, Frank opened the door, fully expecting Ted’s familiar face. Instead, Carl, the quiet neighbor from two houses down, stood there.

“Carl? Uh… well, come on in!” Frank blurted, trying to mask his surprise. “I guess I… invited you!” He hadn’t spoken more than two words to Carl in the years they’d been neighbors. This could either go very well or very, very awkwardly.

“Thanks. Tea sounds… nice.” Carl shuffled in, looking a little confused himself.

“Right, tea!” Frank stammered, leading Carl into the living room. He had planned for a lighthearted chat about compost and tomatoes, but now he was hosting the neighborhood enigma. As they sat down, the air grew thick with awkward silence, punctuated by the clinking of spoons against teacups.

“So, Carl, how’s the garden coming along?” Frank ventured.

“Garden’s fine,” Carl responded, sipping his tea. Frank was unsure if this was an answer or a warning not to ask more questions.

“Great, great,” Frank said, grasping for straws. “Weather’s been nice for it, huh? Not too hot.”

“Not too cold either,” Carl added. Frank nodded vigorously, hoping the conversation wouldn’t die a painful death. Just as Frank was about to crack under the pressure, Carl surprised him.

“I used to travel a lot for work, you know.”

“Really? What did you do?” Frank nearly dropped his biscuit.

“Yeah, I was a traveling salesman,” Carl said, a slight smile creeping onto his usually stoic face. “Sold everything from vacuums to encyclopedias. And let me tell you, people are weird.”

“Weird? Like how?” Frank chuckled. Carl took another sip of his tea.

“Oh, let’s see… once, I had a lady offer to pay me in fresh goats.”

“Goats? Actual goats?” Frank blinked.

“Yeah, two of “em,” Carl said, deadpan. “I told her I didn’t have a place to keep goats. She said, ‘That’s alright, they can live in your car.’” Frank laughed so hard he nearly choked on his tea.

“You didn’t take her up on it, did you?”

“Nah,” Carl shrugged. “My car was already full of pigs.” Frank stared wide-eyed before Carl let out a low chuckle. “Just kidding. But seriously, people were always trying to trade weird things for vacuums. I once got a sack of potatoes.”

“You should’ve opened a grocery store or a farm.” Frank wiped his eyes, still laughing. The conversation flowed more naturally after that, and Frank found himself genuinely enjoying Carl’s company. When the tea ran cold, Carl stood up to leave, thanking Frank for the company.

“It’s been quiet, you know? Too quiet, sometimes.”

“I get that. It’s not easy.” Frank nodded, his earlier laughter giving way to empathy. “Well, you can come in anytime you feel like talking. I could trade you a can of beans for your weed whacker,” Carl laughed as he left.

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