Chapter 3

To say that Eleanor was devastated at the death of Robert would be a massive understatement. She simply could not believe that the one great love of her life had been taken from her. They had celebrated almost twelve glorious, loving years together, and she had been looking forward to many more. They had begun organizing their around-the-world trip-of-a-lifetime, and just the planning of that great adventure was exciting for them.

They both needed various inoculations for the more underdeveloped countries they would be visiting, and Eleanor had convinced Robert to get a full medical checkup at the same time. It was then that the discovery was made that would end their plans and destroy the joy and anticipation of their future life together.

Robert was diagnosed with suspected prostate cancer and a biopsy was hastily arranged. The results were worse than they could have expected. The cancer was advanced, also attacking his bowel, and his likelihood of survival was less than 50%.

After many nights of agonizing discussion and argument, Robert convinced Eleanor that he wouldn't undergo surgery and they would live his last days out with her at their home. He couldn't face the trauma of major surgery, only for her to be burdened with the gradual deterioration of his life afterwards. He faced his fate bravely, but with great regret.

He lived for three months after the diagnosis, Eleanor beside him for almost every waking moment. When he died, he had been sleeping in her arms late one winter afternoon. His brother Harold and sister-in-law Rosalind were in the house at the time.

The funeral was held in the United Church near Bowness, and he was buried in the Bowness Cemetery on a cold, windswept January day. More than fifty people attended the services, including his mother, brother, sister-in-law, Hamish McDougall and his new bride Marietta, Franklin Yarborough from New York, and many of their friends from both business and their social circle.

For Eleanor, it was a like a light being extinguished. She was completely lost, and had no idea of what she would do without him. Rosalind, Harold and several of her dear friends tried to stay close and comfort her, but in her quiet, private moments, she was bereft of hope.

In the time before Robert, she was a strong woman and dependent upon no one but herself. But in her time with him, she had become equally dependent on Robert as her muse, lover, companion, and supporter. It would be some time before she would regain her strength and choose her future path.

As she lay on the couch in their living room, her mind drifted back to the happy years with Robert. The love and the loving. The trips of discovery and adventure. It was a cruel fate that gave them all their financial freedom and then snatched him away before they could celebrate their good fortune.

She knew she had to make a decision on her future. She had no interest in returning to her job. She couldn't focus on anything for very long these late winter days. She looked out the window toward the city and wondered if it wasn't time to make a complete break and start anew.

She thought of Harold and Rosalind, her closest friends, and how they had tried so hard to be with her after Robert's death. She pushed them away just as she had pushed everything away, even her memories. Now, those memories we coming back, not to haunt her, but to perhaps re-energize her.

It had been almost two months since his death and Eleanor had hardly stirred from the house. The grey-white colours of winter would soon begin to recede and spring would return. One morning in early April, Eleanor awoke and immediately knew what she must do. It wasn't the result of an impulse or a vague dream, but a realization that she couldn't continue with her life in this place. She picked up the phone and called her brother-in-law's home.

"Hello?" Rosalind answered.

"Hi Roz," Eleanor said in a clear voice.

"Ellie ... how are you? We haven't talked in ages," she came back brightly.

"I know. I know. I had to think things through for a while. I needed some time and space to decide."

"Ellie ... what did you decide?" Rosalind asked tentatively.

"I'm going to sell the house and I'm going to find a new place to live that won't be so full of these memories," she said positively.

Rosalind sensed there was more to it than that. She waited patiently for Ellie to continue.

"I've decided to move to Toronto," she stated flatly. "I thought about Vancouver, but ... I guess I'm really a big city girl and Toronto is better for me."

"Oh Ellie, no! I don't want to lose you. Why do you have to leave us?" Rosalind's voice was pleading, and she was near tears at the thought of her best friend moving away.

"It's better than staying here and having everything around me remind me of ... well ... just remind me. I don't want to lose you either, Roz, but I can't stay here. What the hell. You can come and visit me anytime. I hope you understand."

"I guess so, but ... it won't be the same. I'll miss you so much. Get ready for some big phone bills," she laughed through her tears.

"You know I'll call you often ... and you call me too. I won't be leaving until the house is sold and I've found a place to live in Toronto, so it isn't like I'm leaving today," Eleanor rationalized.

"Oh god, Ellie. I wish you'd change your mind. What about the 'Terrible Thompsons?'" she cried.

"Well, there's always a reunion, you know."

Eleanor was trying to inject some lightness and levity into the somber conversation. "It's only a four hour plane ride to 'The Big Smoke.' Bring Harold and your camera and have some fun."

"I guess." Rosalind had resigned herself to the fact that Eleanor was leaving, if not right away, then sooner than later.

The house sold more quickly than Eleanor had expected. The market was up again, and the property's spectacular views and careful décor were a great benefit to the real estate agent. The first offer was right on the asking price, but before she could accept, a second offer, higher than the first, but wanting the furniture and furnishings was the trigger that Eleanor decided to pull.

It solved any problems about what to keep and what to dispose of. She had carefully kept some personal mementos and the odd bit of artwork that she and Robert had chosen together, but otherwise, the ability to walk away and start virtually fresh was too much to resist. Including her clothes, the balance of the possessions she took from the house fit in seven boxes and three wardrobes.

Eleanor flew to Toronto to prospect for a place to live. She realized that she would be happiest back in an apartment environment, just as she was a dozen years ago before she met Robert. It took no more than two days to find exactly what she wanted, a horribly expensive two bedroom apartment in the centre of the city.

It was spacious, but easy to maintain. It had room for an occasional guest and to entertain, but still not a burden requiring a cleaning service. Money wasn't really an issue. The cost of the unit still left money from the sale of the house and soon the estate would pass through probate, and she would be a multi-millionaire widow. Robert's life insurance, purchased at the recommendation of their financial advisor, gave her a great deal of ready cash to bridge the time from his death to probate. Even after taxes, the estate would realize nearly thirty-five million dollars, far more that she imagined she could use in the balance of her lifetime.

After the purchase of the apartment was concluded, Eleanor flew to Vancouver to visit her sister and her family. They were delighted to see her, and yet sad that she had chosen to move so far from their hometown. Evelyn convinced Eleanor to stay for a few days and she, husband John, and their now fifteen year old daughter Julia, spent a great deal of time touring the local sights before making a quick visit to Victoria for a short vacation.

For Eleanor, it was a tonic and a relief. She loved her sister and her family, and was particularly delighted with the lovely and pretty young woman her niece had become. Julie and her aunt were close, and each admired the other. At the end of her stay, Eleanor was actually regretting her decision to head back to Calgary for a final goodbye to her special sister, Rosalind.

Eleanor had decided she didn't need a car in Toronto. She would use cabs and if necessary, the excellent public transportation system. The city had an extensive subway, streetcar and commuter rail system, as well as buses. She just didn't need the hassle of trying to drive in the heavily clogged city.

Harold had looked after the sale of her car and Robert's S.U.V. She spent three days with Harold and Rosalind before heading back to her new home in Toronto. She had her regrets in leaving her true home town, but knew she had to find a new path for herself if she was going to recover from the loss of her husband. As she looked out toward her former city and home from the aircraft's window, she felt a tinge of regret, but quickly looked away and hoped it would be that easy to find a new life in Toronto.

Eleanor found work in a local public relations firm, and although the work was not demanding of either her talents or her time, it was a reason to get up in the morning and have a sense of purpose about her day. She joined a fitness centre barely a block from her building, and with the help of a personal trainer, quickly regained her former level of fitness.

She had arrived in Toronto permanently in late April, and within a month, realized that she had made a good choice. It was a city for walking and for cabs. It was a Canadian version of New York. Lively, with excellent shops, great restaurants, theatres and above all, people on the streets. She loved the clanging of the streetcar claxons as they rolled smoothly by. The city was alive, and made her feel alive again as well.

She developed her routines for each week. She could walk to her office, her fitness centre, several restaurants, her grocer and butcher store, drug store, Union Station and many of her favorite shops.

She developed a relationship with a local cab company and when she tired of walking and needed a ride home, she called her contact and a cab was dispatched for her. She got to know the best drivers and quietly requested they be assigned to her whenever they were available. She tipped them generously and they responded with quick and efficient service. They came to enjoy their contact with "Mrs. T."

Eleanor hadn't even considered a relationship with a man. She couldn't conceive of it at this early stage of her widowhood. Unfortunately for her, however, she still had vivid memories of her steamy nights with Robert, and she was still sexually conscious. Her dreams often resulted in dampness in her underwear and her private thoughts often drifted toward the feeling of complete fulfillment that she had enjoyed with her late husband.

She knew that sooner or later, she would seek a relationship with a man, but not just yet. She had been approached by several men in her office and even some of her clients. While she occasionally accepted a dinner or theatre date, she made it clear that sex was not part of the plan. Most of her dates accepted her rules, knowing that she was a strong-willed woman. The others were swiftly dispatched to no-man's-land, never again to be graced with her company.

Eleanor had not lost her sense of humour or her awareness of current events. She could hold her own in any conversation, and her many travels in the past years had just added to her repertoire of experiences, stories, and adventures. She was a brilliant dinner guest and a terrific companion for any man who had the patience and smarts to pay attention.

She soon became a minor celebrity on the social scene and enjoyed the status. Her business life thrived during the next two years, and she began to regain her personal stability and zest for life. In short, she was finally getting over the loss of Robert.

She met Roger Inhalt at the mail boxes in the lobby one weekday morning. He was struggling to extract a package from the box and since her mailbox was below his, she waited patiently while he wrestled with the corrugated-wrapped object.

She was on her way to work and as she stood behind him, she realized that she was a couple of inches taller than he in her fashionable patent leather heels. He was neatly groomed with a bit of grey showing in his brown hair. He looked fairly trim and with the exception of the profanity he was using in what he thought was 'sotto voce, ' he appeared to be at least educated and possibly even refined. Finally, he extracted the parcel from his box but not without a nasty scrape on his hand.

"Ouch ... dammit!" he mumbled. Roger turned and then realized Eleanor was behind him. "Oh ... I beg your pardon. I'm not usually prone to swear but..."

"That's perfectly alright. I understand completely," she smiled. She had a good look at his face and liked what she saw. He was probably about her age and in his own modest way, reasonably handsome. He had a nice smile and appeared to have all his own teeth and hair. Not a bad start, she thought, laughing to herself at her conceit.

Eleanor moved toward her box and extracted the three envelopes from it. A letter from her accountant, probably about the final settlement with the tax man. The other two were bills; telephone and hydro. Nothing to worry about. She stuffed the three letters in her purse and turned back to the man beside her.

"Is your hand going to be alright? I have a handkerchief in my purse if that would help," she offered.

"No, it'll be fine. Just a small scrape." He looked up at her and smiled as he realized just what an attractive woman he had been standing beside.

"I'm Roger Inhalt. I live on the fourteenth floor here." He smiled a genuine smile and held out his hand.

"I'm Eleanor Thompson. I'm on eight. Nice to meet you."

She felt very comfortable in the presence of Mr. Roger Inhalt. She shook his hand briefly.

"Well, I'm off to work," she said cheerily. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

She smiled, turned and walked out of the lobby onto the street, heading toward her office.

Roger watched her walk away and filed an important factoid in his mind: Eleanor Thompson. He leaned forward and checked the box from which she had extracted her mail and noted the number, 815. Attractive women in this building were not uncommon but attractive women in his age group were not common. Now the question remained, was she single? A quick investigation would provide the answer.

Roger Inhalt had moved to Toronto after his divorce. He was a native of Vancouver and a civil engineer. He had moved steadily upward through the lower ranks of an international firm, and into middle management at a relatively young age. It was there he seemed to find his career stalled.

He had married Marnie Bryson in 1968 and their son, Steve, was born a year later. They were young and in love, and his job and status impressed Marnie, especially since he was fresh out of university. They had lived in a modest house in North Vancouver until, quite unexpectedly, Roger was offered a very big promotion to the San Francisco office. It meant a dramatic change in their lifestyle and status within the company.

Marnie was excited with the prospect, while Roger was more cautious. It wasn't the job that concerned him but the California lifestyle, politics and the more common occurrence of violence that worried him. Nonetheless, he accepted the position and moved his family to the Bay Area.