As the trees filled out around us, we saw more and more of Y and the puppy when we were out for our walks. The Boy and Girl let me spend more and more supervised time with S, the puppy. It didn’t take long for everyone to realize that they didn’t need to walk either of us much if they just let us run around with each other.

Our backyard is bigger than Y’s, so Y and S ended up coming over on the weekends to visit. Sometimes B would come over too. And sometimes even their girls came over. They seemed like one happy family. Y repeatedly said how much he loved living in the country surrounded by nature. He felt a resonance with the surroundings here. It also became apparent to us that he enjoyed spending time at our place. As the Summer rolled around, we started to feel a little cramped. In the Summer we often have a fire going in the back at night. He’d drop by unexpectedly, join us at the fire, and not feel like leaving. Through all of these visits, I gleaned his story:

Y was a soccer player in Poland. I got the impression that he was somewhat of a celebrity over there because when he speaks about that time of his life, he mentions expensive hotels and meals that were all part of his soccer career. He met B during this part of his life. She enjoyed the high life with him as well. She really, really enjoyed it.

For some reason, the two of them decided to take a break from Soccer. They moved to Greece for a prolonged vacation and got married there. They had their first child while they were there. Y made a living in Greece as a sculptor and B made some money modelling lingerie. He’s good at it and with the Greeks and their columns and icons, he did well. Cost of living wasn’t too bad and the weather was nice. Oh, and I’m sure she was good at her job also.

After a couple of years there, they decided it was time to move on. They decided that they would emigrate to Canada and he would play soccer here and things would be like they were in Poland. Except they would be in a better country.

Unfortunately, soccer in North America is not what it is everywhere else in the world — especially 15 years ago. I don’t think people here are as warm as they are in Greece either. Their current neighbour called canine control twice because S got loose and was wandering around their yard. Instead of calling Y and letting him know, they went straight to the phone book and called the dog catcher. Y ended up having to go to court to pay the fine. But that whole story with his neighbour is another story

So they arrived here to find that there was no soccer to play and they didn’t speak the language. Y ended up sculpting again. Custom fireplaces are his bread and butter. He does an awesome job but with this kind of business, regularity of work is unpredictable.

Anyway, over the years they had another child and then moved to our neighbourhood. Although we started dreading his visits, I liked Y. Anyone that finds a resonance with nature, usually resonates with me. And I liked his family. His girls are teens and behave accordingly towards their parents yet respectfully to us. I liked B because if she wanted to, she could still model lingerie (he’s not comfortable with her doing that — he’s very Catholic) and on top of that she would sometimes come over by herself to drop off European sausages for us. It just so happened that I was usually home alone when she would come by…

One night at the campfire as I was trying to see what Y’s alcohol tolerance was (The Girl was already asleep in her camping chair) I said, “So…I’m glad you guys moved in to that house. The previous owner was not all that nice.”

Y smiled, swayed a little on the tree stump he was sitting on, but kept looking at his wine glass.

“You and B look like a really happy couple,” I said.

He looked up and said, “Reason, only, that I stay with her is because if I leave her, she gonna get kids.”

“Oh,” I said…

I really should learn to keep the trap shut. Looks like as I get older my first impressions become less and less accurate.

More to come: Expensive stuff.