<br><br><center>*I’ve cherished the mystifying,
Heard unreal symphonies,
Been moved by the inevitable,
And hailed epiphanies.*
― Zubair Ahsan</center>



<br><br><center>![Charley.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmV3WKQoVTbMZW8TZQoFFhcFWaCh4vNh8XrGyqwFCP4Qsf/Charley.jpg)
Charley</center>





<br><br> I needed a change of scene from my downtown condo, so here I was in the autumn countryside in the rain.

My afternoon drive had taken me to a quaint inn and from the moment I entered I felt I left behind all the heartache of the past month.

Maeve, my ex, suddenly seemed only a dim memory and a bright future stretched out before me—if the colourful trees outside the windows were any indication.



<br><br>"Good afternoon, sir. Are you here for lunch?”

The soft voice belonged to a beautiful, dark-haired woman in her late thirties. She was wearing a Hepburn style elegant black dress and in the subdued lighting her eyes looked huge and endless.

I could get lost in them and never find my way out.

“Yes, I’m here for lunch. I’d like window table if possible.”

She smiled and swept a lovely hand over the room. “Pick any table you like.”

<br><br>I chose the window table closest to the fire. “Good choice,” she purred. “This one’s my favorite and easy to serve.”

“Are you the waitress too?” I asked, surprised.

She laughed. “I’m Charlotte Woods—proprietor, owner, hostess and manager and when required, chief cook and bottle washer.”

“I’m impressed.”

<br><br>“Don’t be. It’s our off-season and a rainy day. I sent most of the staff home early and stayed behind to keep things running in case a few travellers showed up. But we’re not offering room accommodations until spring.”

“Then, I’m lucky to come when I did. I guess I’m getting the VIP treatment.”

“You certainly are, Mr.—”

“It’s James Hall, but please, call me James.”

“Well then, you can call me Charley—and today, the house wine’s on the house.”

“Is that customary?”

<br><br>Her eyes gleamed. “You might call it a perk for being a rainy day person—someone who’s used to storms.”

“That describes me,” I grinned ruefully.

“Take your time and look over the menu—I’ll be back with your wine.”

While I sat staring out the rain-splattered pane, I heard the cook saying his goodbyes and watched him drive off in the downpour.

Aside from the rumble of thunder or the fire crackling in the grate, it was cosy and peaceful within, in contrast to the wild weather outside.

<br><br>Charley came back with the wine and I was about to order when the power went off.

“Oh, oh—that might put a crimp in my menu choice,” I laughed.

“What were you going to order?”

“Steak and a baked potato,” I laughed.

“I can do that—I guess that’s going to be my supper tonight as well.”

“Well then, why don’t you join me? —If it’s not against protocol, that is.”

“It’s not,” she smiled. “It’ll be nice having company for dinner.”

<br><br>Ten minutes later, she was back with both meals and another bottle of wine. “We can’t dine without wine—it’s not civilized.”

She lit candles and we sat sharing a meal in our tiny oasis of calm in the midst a roiling storm.

I was curious. “How did you end up owning an inn?”

She took a sip of wine and stared dreamily out the window as if picturing the past.

<br><br>“My mother owned this place until her death five years ago. I used to work here summers throughout university. Gave up a lucrative career selling bonds on Bay Street to become an innkeeper. But I love it.”

“It’s important to keep doing the things you love.”

“What about you, James—what do you love?”

I grinned ruefully. “Up until a few months ago, the answer to that would be easy. I thought I had it all. I’m a successful writer and love what I do. I was hoping to marry the girl of my dreams—but as it turned out, she woke up in another bed.”

<br><br>Charley’s eyes grew moist. “I’m so sorry, James—I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been.”

“It was brutal at the time. But now that a month’s passed, it’s bearable, but everything still seems so bleak.”

She nodded sympathetically. “You missed the beauty of autumn.”

Her words echoed my thoughts—actually everything about her complemented me and seemed to fill my needs.

I wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but it was unsettling and yet, at the same time, mystifying.



<br><br><center>© 2019, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center>

<br><br><center>[ Photo]( https://images.app.goo.gl/5aQXwjQQPcwc4FQP7 ) </center>

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