Home Away from Home Part 1

I found my way toward the pub. It was early but I knew the place would be open. Coffee was their specialty, despite being a pub. People flocked to it trying to find a way to get through the morning fuzzies.

The patio was surprisingly full. I glanced at my watch wondering if I had slept longer than I thought. But it was only 9:30 on Saturday morning. Apparently, people were all about an early start today.

I decided on an indoor seat, I wasn’t feeling chatty. I wondered in and found a quiet spot in the corner. Dumping my purse on the bench next to me, I nodded at the waitress, assuming she would know coffee was the beverage of choice.

The waitress and my coffee appeared only a moment later. I was so desperate for a caffeine jolt I’m surprised I didn’t kiss her. Instead I gave her a weak smile. “Scrambled eggs, side of bacon extra crispy with a side of home fries please.” I didn’t need the menu. It was the same no matter where I ordered. She nodded, and turned toward the kitchen

I’d found the pub not long after I moved into the neighborhood. After Sam and I had split, I ‘d been looking to find my own place. Calling half a dozen rentals while he went to stay with his mother. I had to move, I had after all been the one to move in with him. But that was fine with me. There was no way I wanted to live there without him.

Everything I had seen had been all wrong. The neighborhoods were too different from me. Too isolated, far from necessities. As someone who walked everywhere I needed things to be local as much as I needed a good mode of transportation nearby.

I’d found Oakwood by accident. The newspaper had posted the wrong street name. It should have said Oak Lane but they had confused two ads. It worked out better for me. An old heritage building had been converted to apartments. I was lucky enough to find an opening on Oakwood walking through the neighborhood. I saw the sign in the window and called.

Turned out the owner was inside waiting on a viewer who had been a no-show. Thank you universe. He had offered to show it now and I accepted. I had nothing better to do and I had some time before the next bus.

It was love at first sight. The house I mean. I was lucky enough to snag the main floor unit on the east side. I would get the morning sun. I could see myself enjoying my mid morning cuppa on the porch. Eventually.

The landlord and I hit it off well enough. I filled out the required forms and transferred the necessary first and last. I explained why I was house hunting in the middle of the month. He was kind enough to hand me the keys telling me I could move in any day.

“Use the next two weeks to pick yourself up and figure out how to go forward. It’s a tough few weeks at first but it does get easier. I speak from experience. I went through the same thing a few weeks ago.

There is a pub over on Llyod Ave. It’s got a great breakfast, the crowd is great for small talk but doesn’t overwhelm you at first. Which was great when I was trying to remember how to be my own person instead of half of a couple.”

He smiled and offered me a ride back to the city. But I declined. I’d asked if it was okay if I stayed and checked the place out a bit more. He laughed and said, the place was mine. “If you want you could even sleep on the floor until you can get your stuff here. I did the same in one of the other units, not all that long ago.”

Photo by Katie Luka on Unsplash

I walked around my apartment for a while. Sitting in the window seats, checking out closet space and trying to figure out how I could decorate it with the few belongings I had.

My friend Jane had been kind enough to help me out. Her and her fiancé Stephen had loaded my boxes into their truck and managed to get it all here and me in one trip.

They’d left shortly after and I had thought nothing of it. Until suddenly they were back with a bed and a futon. I’m embarrassed to say I burst into tears.

Turns out Jane had made some calls, while I had been apartment hunting and found a charity shop that had beds, donated from a local bed shop brand new. The futon was used but you couldn’t tell. I’ll be honest, I had been expecting to make the floor as comfortable as I could for a few weeks.

She hugged me and told me she would pop in to make sure I was functional after I had a few days to wallow. Jane got me like no one else. I’m not afraid to say I’d be lost without her. She had been true to her word and given me three days.

On the third day she had shown up bright and early, banged on my door loud enough to make me open it but not loud enough to bother my new neighbors. She had shoved a bag of luxurious toiletries in my hand, told me to shower and get ready and she’d wait.

I had no choice but to comply. You just don’t argue with Jane. So, I had done what she asked and dragged myself in the shower and into some fresh clothes.

Emerging a few minutes later feeling like a whole new human. Jane had been busy, getting the coffee pot set up and brewing me a cup to get me moving. I didn’t function well without a few sips in the morning.

She’d also put the dishes away, and put some of my photos on the bookshelf. The bookshelf was the one thing I had felt like unpacking. My books didn’t deserve to be punished and made to live in a box because Sam had decided to move onto someone younger. I’d unpacked them and put them lovingly in their places.

Maybe, I’d be the book lady forever. I’d love my books, to hell with relationships and love.

Jane pushed me out the door a few minutes later. I could tell she had a location in mind so I didn’t try to fight her. I went along for the ride.

Turns out she had found the pub that I had talked about with Jack when he rented me the place. It wasn’t what I was expecting but the food was excellent.

Photo by Nikola Jovanovic on Unsplash

Jane always tried the steak as her first meal, I had expected that to get complicated given it was still breakfast. As it happened, steak was a breakfast option here. I was more of an eggs and bacon kind of girl with a side of home fries or hash browns. I loved this dinner the moment I saw my plate. Their breakfast was gorgeous. They do their own spin on breakfasts mixing in baby tomatoes, and sauteed greens. I’m not someone who loves to cook but I do love to eat. The coffee sealed it for me and I knew this would quickly become my go to.

I’d made something of a routine for myself. Make coffee at home, have a cup while trying to get my blood moving in the morning. Once I was presentable and shaken the worst of the morning fuzzies away, I’d walk over to the pub for breakfast. I knew it wouldn’t always be able to be this way, I’d be broke fast but it was how I needed to start building a life away from Sam.

The pub as it turned out was a good place for that. Jack had been right. People were nice here. Come often enough and you get caught up in the small talk but people aren’t overwhelming. I had the feeling we all came here looking for the same thing. A place to lick our wounds and heal. A place where we weren’t alone but still had our space.

Jack had come in more than once, now that I knew he was one of us, the signs were easier to see. He’d settled in a table not far from mine. Nodding over a cup of coffee, a slight smile coming to his face.

He was easy to like, as were all the regulars in the pub that now felt like home. I’d settle in to have my breakfast, do some small talk, occasionally take the offer of joining someone for tea later or even a lunch date. But more often I went home to get to work.

My writing had taken off since Sam and I split. I had the time now and apparently the space in my head for it. My blog was exploding, in a good way. I was writing about a variety of topics. Avoiding only one. I wasn’t ready to venture back into talking about love, or romance. I was too raw for that. I had vaguely mentioned my own single status so regular readers knew that my relationship had ended. That was enough for now.

Watching everyone enjoy their coffee and breakfast, I contemplated writing about my new home away from home but I wasn’t sure I was ready to let the world know about this place. I didn’t know if I would ever be. Would it be fair to the others coming here for their own healing to be forced to deal with people they possibly weren’t ready for? Heck was I even ready for that?

Maybe it wasn’t the pub that I wanted to write about, but more about sanctuary that it was. Everyone deserves a place like this. A place that soothed the soul, and let them find their people. The promise of good coffee and even better food kept them coming back.

I couldn’t help the smile that slowly crept on my face as I watched the morning crowd. With my breakfast finished I paid my cheque and headed for home. The words wouldn’t write themself but maybe today would be the day I would treat myself to lunch and instead of sitting by myself I’d boldly join the lunch crew.