My agile fingers moved back and forth over the keys and the lively tones echoed slightly around the room. I ignored the reverberation but I'd need to address that soon. Some fabric wall coverings ought to solve the problem.

I tried to focus on the sound coming from the piano rather than what was bouncing off the walls of my large open-concept condo. The music itself was pleasing, and it was certainly helping me to relax and de-stress.

As I played, I made a mental note to correct that last sequence. I was playing Bach's Brandenburg Concerto number three, but it was my own take on a solo piano arrangement. I'd been tinkering with it on and off for years, but I was never satisfied. Almost every time I played it I found another improvement I wanted to make.

Mental notes aside, I all but lost myself in the music until a series of unexpected bass notes spoiled the flow and completely jarred me out of the piece.

"Ludwig!" I sighed as I frowned at the large light-brown tabby cat standing on the left end of the keys. "How many times have I told you, stay off the piano!"

He was about four years old, and named after Beethoven of course. He walked along the keys, each step accompanied by discordant tones, until he was next to my left hand. Then he bowed down and rubbed his face against my knuckles, pausing to lick me every few moments.

I sighed again but my lips curled into a smile. I'd turned to the piano to try and unwind, but this worked just as well.

"Ok buddy, come here." I said as I picked him up and cuddled him against my chest. I was rewarded with contented purrs as he stretched up to rub his face against mine, accompanied by more licks.

I held him and stroked his fur for a minute or so, then asked "Where's your little brother? Where's Wolfie?"

Raising my voice I called, "Wolfgang? Come to papa! Psspsspsspss!"

A moment later my second cat emerged from the bedroom at full speed, with his tail and ears standing straight up. He came running, and leapt up onto the bench by my right side. Then the claws came out as he climbed up my arm and finally perched purring atop my shoulder. He was only ten months old, a highly excitable little orange tabby I named after Mozart.

I winced as he clawed his way up but his happy purring easily made me forget the pain. I reached up and started petting and stroking him while I continued holding Ludwig in my left arm.

My two cats were like my kids. I was always too busy for a 'normal' family. My career took all my time and attention, and I was never really that comfortable around people anyways. Not enough to actually date anyone, much less get married or start a family. It was safer and easier to stay at the office, hidden behind my computer.

Honestly it made me laugh whenever I really stopped to think about it. I was almost the stereotypical lonely old cat lady in every way, except I wasn't a woman. I was old though. Not terribly old, but old enough.

They say age is more about how you feel rather than just a number on your birth certificate, but at sixty-eight I definitely felt it. I'd spent the past forty-four years sitting in front of a keyboard and screen, and that's not the sort of lifestyle that does you a lot of favours when it comes to health.

I had more than my share of 'middle age spread' going on, along with the accompanying back-aches and difficulty sleeping. The most physical activity I had in my life for decades was going out for infrequent walks, but I hadn't even been doing that lately. Not since the pandemic hit.

Now when I looked at myself and my life I wasn't happy with what I saw. Sure I was successful, I grew a little software business up from nothing into a very profitable enterprise. Most people never heard of it, but some of the stuff I developed back in the eighties was still part of the internet backbone that the rest of the world depended on today. That didn't make me particularly rich or famous, but it did help launch my career. A career I was now ready to retire from.

I'd been in negotiations for the past two years, trying to sell my company. I had a few buyers lined up, but so far two deals had nearly come together before falling through. And now the pandemic meant it was taking even longer to get anywhere with the third potential buyer.

The people I was trying to negotiate with were used to face-to-face meetings, they were all about making contacts, flashing their cash, and making deals over their five-star restaurant meals. They normally left the phone calls and emails to their assistants, to iron out details after the deal was made.

And that was the source of the frustration I'd been trying to defuse with the piano, playing my rendition of one of Bach's pieces. Though having my arms full with two happy purring cats was at least as effective at neutralizing stress, maybe even more-so.

To be honest I was already half retired. A couple months ago I sold my house in 'silicon valley north', otherwise known as Kitchener-Waterloo, and moved into this luxury downtown Toronto condo. And due to the pandemic we were all working remotely anyways, so I no longer needed to be within easy access to the office. Moving into the city was step one of my rather unique retirement plan.

The rest of my plans were on-hold until I got the business sold, but at least I was in my new home. My condo was near the mouth of the Humber River, and from my balcony I had a lovely view of the harbour and the lake, and part of the city skyline. It was a good location with excellent access to public transportation and amenities. There were walking and cycling trails nearby, but until I was ready to switch to an active outdoor lifestyle I still had my luxury SUV.

My mind wandered as I let myself daydream a little. The business was valued at about twenty-five million. Through negotiations with the buyers, I was looking at a deal that would get me ten million in cash, five million worth of shares in the parent company, and a three-year pay-out for the rest, based on the performance of the business going forward.

I figured even if the business tanked after I left, worst-case scenario I'd still have at least ten million. The condo was paid for, my car was paid for, that just left living expenses and a few other purchases I'd want along the way. With some smart investing, that ten million down-payment could last me a very long time indeed.

After we came to an agreement the deal would need to go past the lawyers, mine and theirs. That might take another few weeks. Then we'd sign it. There'd be another delay from signing till the deal closed, but I'd make sure that was as short as possible. If it all went well, maybe one month from now it would be over and done.

That would be perfect. The money and shares would be transferred for June first, I'd start the summer completely free and retired. Then, once I was positive I didn't have to do any more negotiating, once I didn't have to talk to or meet anyone else, I could put the rest of my plan into action.

The pandemic actually helped in that regard. Everything was online now. I didn't have to see or meet with my investments guy, I didn't have to meet bank managers. We could do it all through the relative anonymity of the internet, which was important. I planned to enjoy my retirement, and I planned it to last a very long time. The fewer people I needed to meet or talk to the better, because if everything went according to plan they'd have a very hard time believing who I was if we ever had to meet again.

I was starting to smile as I thought about that part of the plan, when I was disturbed from my daydream by a ping from my computer. I had new mail.

"Ok boys," I said to the two cats still curled up in my arms. "Sorry but papa has to get back to work again. Hopefully not for much longer."

I leaned forward and rather unceremoniously dumped them both ontop of the piano, then pulled myself to my feet. I shuffled from the piano over to the corner of the large living-room and sat down at my antique mahogany desk to check if this was the email I'd been waiting for.

It was, and I spent the rest of the afternoon carefully reading the attached documents. By the end of the day I was satisfied, I sent a quick reply to confirm I liked the offer and would get back to them with an official response by the end of the week. Then I forwarded the whole thing to my lawyers, marked urgent, and asked for a reply by the end of the day tomorrow.

• • • • •

There was a wide smile on my face as I cycled through the tabs on my browser. I was looking at my bank accounts and my investment accounts, and everything looked perfect.

It was Wednesday June sixteenth. It took longer than I'd hoped to finalize the deal, we wasted three weeks arguing about some incredibly fiddly details. But at long last it was done. The agreements were signed on Friday and the deal closed Monday. I had my final online meetings with my staff last week and sent my keys and badge back via courier. Yesterday the funds were transferred, and I had my last conversations with my accountant and lawyer, and paid both their bills.

I was finished. I was free. I was more than ready to take the last step.

My accounts were all set up and ready to go. I had nearly a million in cash in the bank, that would cover all the short term purchases and living requirements I'd have for the foreseeable future. The only significant purchases I had planned would be a nice bicycle and all the various peripherals to go along with it, and I'd need a new wardrobe. I didn't have extravagant tastes though, so none of those things would cost that much.

The rest of the money and shares were in my investment account, along with my original retirement savings. That was the real nest egg. If I managed it right, I'd be living off the interest for a good long time. If I was careful and stuck to my plan, and if the markets didn't go into a multi-year dive at some point, I'd never have to work again.

I might still work for fun, but I'd never have to do it. And that was important to me. I'd spent four and a half decades doing almost nothing but work, I wanted to enjoy myself for at least as long.

By this time next week, I should be able to divide my time between hiking and cycling over the summer, and enjoying my love of the piano and classical music through the winter.

There was just one more thing I needed to do to make it all happen, but it was something that couldn't be done remotely. Not by phone, or email, or conference call.

Tomorrow I'd be heading out on a long drive north of the city. My destination was a small tourist-town on the southern shore of Georgian bay. There was a little occult shop there that had a very impressive reputation, and I'd been assured by a few people I'd spoken with online that the proprietor could give me what I really wanted for my retirement.

I'd long been unhappy about the idea that you spend all your best years toiling for the sake of capitalism, then when you're finally free and able to relax you're too old and worn out to actually enjoy it. I played along and gave more than four decades of my life to the cause. I sacrificed my health and happiness for the sake of my career. Now, if the stories and rumours were true, I was going to cash in on my hard work and get my youth and my health back.

The last step in my retirement plan involved magic, and tomorrow I was going to go and get it.

To be sure I wasn't in for any disappointments, I gave the shop a call to confirm they'd be open tomorrow. With the pandemic and the province going in and out of lock-down, I worried they might be closed. Fortunately they weren't, the woman said they were open ten till five. I thanked her then disconnected, and I smiled again. It was all coming together.

PurpleCatGirl

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