A little cafe in the centre of a large park was popular with the locals for its friendly staff and cakes you could die for. Amongst the regulars was an elderly gentleman, always smartly dressed in shirt and tie, trousers with a crease you could slice bread with, his shoes shining, not a smudge on them. He would arrive promptly at 10am and leave at 2pm and was always popular with the more mature ladies. The staff would watch amused as he charmed them, the ladies simpering at his flattery.
It was assumed that he was just lonely, enjoying the company. Over time the staff learned his name was Gerald and his wife had passed away some time ago. He had recently moved into a retirement complex. During the summer months he would sit on the bench outside talking to an old drunk, buying him a sandwich and drink. They would sit and chat for a while till the drunk disappeared off into the park. Wondering why he took the time, Gerald replied to his questioner that it could easily have been him .
Gerald continued with his routine; no matter what the weather he would arrive, sit in the window seat watching the world pass by until someone came in and joined him.
One particular day there was a covering of snow. Rosie the boss was debating on closing up early when Gerald arrived on the dot. Rosie, having already sent her staff home, decided to sit and have a chat with him. He talked of his past in the services and his late wife and how much he missed her. He added that the cafe was a place of tranquillity. He watched the wildlife, rabbits and squirrels vying for food, passers-by would wave to him, some coming to spend time with him. He felt part of life; not invisible.
When Rosie asked why he never developed a relationship with the ladies who obviously liked him, his reply was he was waiting for the one. Puzzled, Rosie looked at him. He smiled, explaining that when he met his wife he knew immediately that she was the one for him so he was now waiting again for the one.
