New Beginnings - Cathy Graham

Even though it’s New Year’s Eve, Jess is in bed early. Her neighbour Marcie across the street invited her to a party, but she declined. It was the usual invitation to a party so they won’t complain about the noise.

Marcie is a divorcee, always acquiring new boyfriends like seasonal clothes. She told Jess once that it was too bad she couldn’t donate them to the thrift store when she tires of them. Jess feels sorry for the boyfriends. 

She can just imagine what Marcie says about her being such a recluse at only 32. People call her an old soul. She’s never been into the drunken party scene at all. Maybe people often think she’s anti-social and stuck up, but she isn’t. She just likes her own company more than an annoying crowd of drunk loudmouths which is what that party would be. She’s been to enough new year parties with drunk amorous men trying to kiss her at midnight. Yuck! Who needs it?

Her relationship with Gabe had all ended badly when she caught him cheating on her, in their own bed of all places. Couldn’t he have been more discreet and gone to a hotel?

As if that wasn’t enough, she got laid off from her secretary job and so money got tight. She moved in with her ailing grandmother to help her out and help herself out. And now her grandmother is dead. How she missed her!

Jess lies in bed, bleary-eyed, listening to the old grandfather clock chime on the hour as she tries to sleep. She could turn the chimes off but she finds them comforting. Usually, she sleeps through them but not tonight.

The clock belonged to her late grandfather, passed along through his family. She fondly remembers him winding it up. And the one side of this duplex house is her grandparents’, too, left to her in the will. Of course, she’s grateful to own a house since so many young people can’t afford one. Still, she would rather have her grandparents here with her.

The clock ticks away second by second, minute by minute. Each minute ticks away – tick, tock, tick, tock. Seconds of her life ebbing away, never to come again. She doesn’t like it when she has thoughts like that. So depressing! What is she doing with her life? What should she be doing? She isn’t sure anymore.

First, it’s 10 pm, then 11 pm, and finally it’s midnight. The new year has arrived. “It doesn’t feel any different,” she muses. 

Outside, she hears explosions of fireworks going off at Marcie’s house and people cheering as the new year rushes into being, leaving the old year behind. 

She sighs, yawns, and gets out of bed stumbling to the kitchen for some cereal. There on the counter sits her new whimsical cat calendar, waiting to be put up. The cats are all in cute yoga poses. 

And of course, her grandmother’s faithful black and white cat, Rex, is on the counter, meowing for attention. Whenever Jess eats, Rex wants to eat, too. It’s only fair. 

She opens up a can of cat food and puts some in his dish. “Happy New Year, Rex, my boy!”

Rex meows loudly in response and digs in, happy to eat any time of day, even midnight.

“Good riddance to 2025!” she mutters, tossing the old calendar into the recycling bin, replacing it with the cat one.

Jess opens the back door and a gust of icy January air rushes in. She breathes deeply. There is still a stinky gun smoke smell of the fireworks but at least they’ve stopped and the party is dying down at last. She heard a bunch of cars leave earlier.

She puts on her boots and coat and steps onto the verandah. Looking up at the sky it’s a cloudless night and she can see the stars so clearly. One star twinkles so brightly that she feels she could reach out and hold it in her hand.

“Nice night, isn’t it?” a woman’s voice comes from the verandah on the other side of the duplex.

“Mrs. McDonald – Happy New Year!” Jess says to her neighbour.

“Happy New Year to you, too, Jess. Call me Doreen.” Jess can only make out the shadowy form of her stooped elderly neighbour.

“How are you, Doreen?” Jess says feeling tongue tied. She doesn’t usually talk to her neighbour much other than the usual “Hi, how are you?” pleasantries in passing. She’s never even been inside her side of the duplex.

“Oh, I can’t complain. Well, I could but who wants to hear that?” Doreen says with a chuckle.

Jess laughs politely. 

“I sure miss your grandmother. She was my best friend. We knew each other when we were 13,” Doreen blurts out suddenly. Maybe the darkness creates an intimacy between them.

“I never knew that,” Jess replies.

“Oh yes, we did lose touch over the years but then found each other again. She reached out to me and that’s how I ended up moving here.” 

Jess shivers on the cold verandah. “Aren’t you cold? Maybe we should go inside now.” 

“Wait, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come for dinner tonight at six. I make a wonderful pot roast but have no one to share it with. My daughter visits sometimes, but she’s busy working as a shift nurse at the hospital on New Year’s Day. My grandson Nick sometimes comes by. He’ll be coming for dinner. You must meet him. He’s such a lovely young man but a bit of a recluse like you are.” 

How did Doreen know she was a recluse? Was it that obvious?

“I don’t know,” Jess stutters wondering how she can get out of it. She doesn’t want to be set up with a guy.

“I’m not matchmaking, if that’s what worries you,” Doreen says as if reading her mind. She gives another chuckle. “It’s one dinner. Completely innocent. I love to cook for people. Please say you’ll come.”

“Well, okay. Thanks. I’ll come,” she agrees with reluctance. 

She looks up at that star again and it twinkles with reassurance. Time for new beginnings.

xxxxx

Cathy Graham, an Ottawa-based writer, has published short stories in online and print magazines. She explores themes of hope, love, and kindness. Cathy is also a musician, photographer, artist, and creative dreamer.