A Chance of a lifetime
"This is a chance of a life time," I declared to my friend Stacy as I locked the door of my office and left the restaurant I managed. "It's every twenty-seven-year-old woman's dream to live in New York City, and in a few months I'll know if I get the transfer."
I watched the moonlight glisten on the waters of Laguna Beach. "I'll miss it here, but living in the Big Apple is everything I've ever wanted - a dream come true."
We met a group of our friends at a local cafe, and I jabbered on about the possibility of my move. Laughter erupted from a nearby table. I watched as a handsome man captured the attention of his friends with his engaging story. His broad, warm smile and air of confidence held me in a trance. Stacy nudged me. "You're staring,
Michelle, and about to drool." "Wow," I whispered. I watched the gorgeous guy push up the sleeves of his bulky sweater. Everyone at his table had their eyes fixed on him. "That's the man I want to marry." "Yeah, right," Stacy droned. "Tell us more about where you'd like to live in New York, because we all plan to visit you there when you land this job. " As I spoke my gaze drifted back to the debonair man.
Three months later my friends and I gathered at the same restaurant. "To life in the Big Apple!" they cheered as we tapped our glasses together. "My chance of a lifetime!" We talked for hours. I told them of my plan to save money by moving out of my beach cottage and renting a room for the few remaining months. Our friend offered, "I have a fellow South African friend who is considering renting one of the four bedrooms in his house. His name is Barry. A GREat guy." He scribbled on a napkin. "This is his number. He's a forty-two-year-old confirmed bachelor. Says he's much too busy being a single dad to be a husband."
I made an appointment to see the room the same day. I approached the entrance of the spacious house, and the door opened. "You must be Michelle," he said. He pushed up the sleeves of his bulky sweater and flashed his handsome smile. It was the man from the restaurant months before --- the man I wanted to marry.
I stood staring, my mouth gaping, hoping I wasn't drooling.
"You are Michelle, aren't you? " he said, coaxing me out of my trance." Would you like to see the room?"