If that's the way you want to be

We are home again. We arrived back on Wednesday morning, and have spent the past two days chilling out, trying to get back to normal.

Just a few hours after we returned, we saw our neighbour's boyfriend. Now, 'boyfriend' is probably not the right term, since both he and our neighbour are in their 60s or 70s, and that quaint old expression 'gentleman friend' is probably more apt. But the two of them have a kind of spirited liveliness that makes them seem more youthful, and makes 'boyfriend' seem surprisingly applicable. For the purposes of description, I will call our neighbour 'Joyce' and the boyfriend 'Old Mate' (which is what we call him amongst ourselves, anyway).

Joyce has been a really good neighbour in the couple of years we've lived here. She's friendly, but also knows how to keep to herself. We help each other out in neighbourly ways from time to time, and have the occasional chat over the fence. Several months ago, Joyce started seeing Old Mate. He is much more talkative than she, and will often start chatting to us over the fence when we are otherwise engaged--like, when friends are visiting and we're in the middle of a conversation. This is a little irritating at times, but we don't really mind because he's just being friendly. He's also helped us out quite a bit in the backyard with tasks like trimming trees, and chainsawing branches and dead stumps. In short, we have spent a fairly significant amount of time with Old Mate and Joyce, and enjoyed their company.

Joyce knows that Heather and I are in a relationship. We didn't tell her, but she indicated that she knew, and she was fine with it. I assumed that she had told Old Mate as well. I found out on Wednesday morning, though, that he probably didn't know.

I was on the back verandah talking to my friend Deb when Old Mate appeared next door, said hello, and welcomed me home. He asked about the trip, where we had gone, and I told him. We went to America, around the Boston area, and up to Canada. He asked where in Canada, and said that he, too, had been to Toronto and really liked it.

'If you don't mind me asking,' he said, 'was there any special reason for your trip?'

I decided to be honest, since Old Mate knows us a little and seems like a cool guy.

'Actually, Heather and I went there to get married.'

Old Mate's eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open. I have rarely seen anyone look so horrified. He struggled to find words. 'Oh,' he said. 'Oh. Ah, well . . . '

His stammering went on for a minute, and then he said something weird like, 'Well, if that's the way you want to be . . . I hope it all works out for you.'

I told him we were very happy. Mercifully, he said goodbye and went about his business shortly after that.

Perhaps, after that, Old Mate will never ask me a question again, and I wouldn't mind in the slightest.