When Isabel was young, she liked to plan her life. She would have a handsome husband and two beautiful children and a big house and friendly neighbors.
Isabel was forty years old, and her life didn’t resemble her plan. She lived alone in a small apartment and wasn’t married.
She’d come close once. He wasn’t handsome, but he was kind. When they met, she hadn’t had a boyfriend in seven years.
One of the women at work had fixed her up with him. “Would you like to go out with my brother?” she’d asked Isabel. The woman and Isabel weren’t friends.
“Why me?”
“You’re the only girl here who’s not married.”
“It’s a small office.”
“He’s got a good job and he’s a really nice guy. But he’s very shy.”
They met at a restaurant on Yonge Street. He was overdressed. During dinner he had trouble look
