Brief Encounter by Constantine Gochis

Sometimes, as some of you know, I post stories written by my late father. Here is another, called "Brief Encounter". It remains my long term goal to put as many of these on the blog as possible for his posterity, as he had no grandchildren, a regrettable reality of having only one, singularly single child. 


He was tall and supple for an elderly gentleman.  He bent forward and reached down to the last shelf for the item.

"There, there," instructed his companion, clearly his wife.  She prompted as he fumbled--
"the one in the brown wrapper."

I watched him with his characteristic absence of dexterity so common to the ale in matters of food shopping.  I turned and addressed the woman.

"They take instruction, don't they?"

She looked at me, puzzled for a moment.

"Men," I said.

She laughed finally in total agreement.  "They do need instruction."

He arose, finally, and placed his arm comfortably around his companion, then leaned forward and whispered to me an acknowledgement.

"She's my Commander-in-Chief."

"A recent elevation in grade?" I inquired.

"No, for forty-four years," he replied.

She smiled broadly. My guess was that they had had a marriage of affection and accommodation to each other's needs.  They had the wholesome air of small town, honest and unpretentious.

They looked settled with each other, at ease. To me this is a feat after so long an association.

"Any children?" I asked.

"Three, and nine grandchildren," she answered.

I was about to say "mazeltov" but I settled with the ore prosaic and certainly more timely "Happy New Year!" as the cashier rang up my purchase.

"With you too!" they answered in chorus. "Happy New Year!"