In Search of Romance

In the corner of the café two people sat in uncomfortable silence. The first date wasn’t going as well as they’d both hoped. Occasionally one of them spoke and the other replied but then they became silent again. They didn’t have much in common and neither seemed interested in getting to know the other better. But something kept them there. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was passion bubbling under the surface. Maybe this is the most awful thing I have ever written. Aargh! 

Deadline is tomorrow and I’ve got nothing. I don’t write romance. Why did I say I would write a story? The overdue electricity bill stared at me from the other side of the desk. In desperation I picked up the phone.

“Abigail, you’re an expert on all things romantic. I need help.” It was always Abigail never Abby.

“Help with what?”

“Romance.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in romance.”

“I believe in it today and tomorrow as well. At least until 5pm. I’ve got a deadline to meet.”

“What are you writing?”

“I’ve been asked to write a short story for a romance anthology. I shouldn’t have said I’d do it but it was so nice being asked for a change instead of me just sending stories away in the hope they’ll get published.”

“Congratulations. Your first commission.”

“Thanks, but don’t get excited yet. I still need to write the story and I really need some inspiration. Hence this phone call. You always manage to date romantic men, thus proving their existence. Please share some of your experiences and maybe I’ll get an idea.”

“I can do better than that. Two days ago I heard the most romantic story I’ve ever heard. If this doesn’t help nothing will.”
"Many years ago a man named Edward met a woman named Charlotte at a barbeque in a small country town. Charlotte had grown up in the city and ever since she was a little girl she had dreamed of living in a big house with a big yard and lots of animals. When she finished her teaching degree she was one of the few graduates who was actually looking forward to doing her country service. She packed her bags, said goodbye to her family, (who had never understood her desire to move to the country), and her friends, (who didn’t understand either), got in her car and drove out west.

"The further away from the city she went the happier she became. When she first saw the house she would be living in she clapped her hands with joy. It wasn’t exactly like her dream but the house was a decent size and there was a yard. Charlotte began to make friends and it was one of those friends who held the fateful barbeque.

"Edward arrived late. He’d played football that morning and stopped to have a beer with the other guys on the team. He hadn’t wanted to go to the barbeque but it was at his brother’s house so he couldn’t say no. The minute he saw Charlotte his heart started beating faster. He introduced himself and stayed by her side for the rest of the day. They talked for hours and Charlotte told him of her dream of a big house with a big yard and lots of animals. So Edward decided to build her one. 

"He started the next day on the land that had been cut off from his parent’s property for him six months before. Previously he had been in no hurry to do something with his land but now it was all he could think of. After the barbeque he wrote down everything Charlotte had said about her dream house. He would build exactly what she wanted even down to the path leading from the front gate to the front door.

"And he did – one timber plank and one nail at a time. Every day he worked on the house in the two hours of daylight he had between when he finished at his job and when the sun set. Every weekend he took Charlotte out. They ate at the only restaurant in town, had picnics, and went swimming in the local creek. Charlotte had no idea what Edward was doing for her. They continued like this for six months. Edward had sworn the whole town to secrecy. Although there had been a couple of slips no one gave the secret away. 

"Then the day came when the house was ready. Edward had gone to the city the week before and bought a ring. On a fine Sunday morning Edward took Charlotte and the ring to the new house and presented her with both. Charlotte happily said yes to the proposal and wanted to move into the house that very day. It was exactly as she had pictured it for all those years. 

"Soon after they had a big wedding, inviting the whole town and held the reception in their backyard. Charlotte and Edward never moved from that house. They raised their children there and had their grandchildren over to stay on school holidays. Edward died about eighteen months ago but Charlotte still lived there. She planned on staying there until she died.
“How’s that?” Abigail asked. “Is that what you were looking for?”

“That was perfect. It’s given me some great ideas to start with. Where did you hear that story?”

”From my grandmother Charlotte.”

“Your grandmother? So the story’s real? I thought it was fictional.”

“No. Every word is true. Glad it helped.”

I hung up the phone, sat down, wrote a two thousand word story and made the deadline.