Today People

by Barbara G. Tarn

  ***

  "So, the bookshop girl is out of the question," Mike said during a lunch break at the cafeteria. "Who else do we have?"

  "Remember Susie?" Chris pondered. "She found me on Facebook."

  "Oh yeah?" Mike grinned. "She had a big fight with Diane, haven't heard from her in ages!"

  The girls had been best of friends in college – but Susie was jealous of Diane, who had dated Chris back then.

  "She wanted to go out with me even back then." Chris shook his head at the memory. "Her crush was still there all those years later. We never fought over girls, but they obviously fought over us!"

  "Of course, they all preferred you, I just happened to be your best friend!" Mike teased. Except he had ended up marrying Diane, while Chris was still single. "So, will you meet her?"

  "I did." Chris smiled. "We met. We both changed. We had good sex, but that's it."

  Mike stared at him, shocked. "That's it?"

  "Yeah, anything that could have happened back in college was gone. I called a couple of other dates, but they have found someone else." Chris sighed. He wasn't sure he had enjoyed the trip down memory lane. One had even been quite rude – obviously he hadn't been such a good experience for her.

  "Guess it won't be easy finding a single woman your age," Mike mused. "Divorced ones tend to not marry again. How about the internet?"

  "Oh, God!" Chris rolled his eyes, disgusted. "And then what, speed dating?"

  "Why not?" Mike grinned. "If you run out of options."

  Chris shook his head, unconvinced. "Why is Mr. Goldberg forcing me to do this?" he complained. "I thought he liked me!"

  "He does," Mike replied. "He's doing it for you."

  "Is he?" Chris scoffed. "And what does he know about me?"

  "He thinks a man is not complete without a woman."

  "Complete? Good Lord!" Chris shook his head, disgusted.

  "C'mon, Chris! It's about..."

  "Messing up, that's what it's about," Chris snapped. "Ruining the perfect book with a bad editing or the wrong ending!"

  "Oh, and what do you know about writing?" Mike teased. "You're a reader!"

  "Some authors have blogs and talk about the process," Chris grumbled.

  "Yeah, right. Everybody can come up with a theory."

  "Well, what's good for you might not be good for me, you know, there are dozens of different genres you can pick from..."

  Mike stared at Chris, suspicious. "If I didn't know you have a healthy sex life, I'd think you're gay. And maybe that's what Mr. Goldberg is afraid of."

  "He wants to see me married to make sure I'm not gay? Come on, Mike, that's ludicrous!"

  "Maybe. But the reader chooses the genre. He might decide he doesn't like sci-fi anymore and start buying Harlequin books, or thrillers, or..."

  "I got you. But authors usually stick to a certain genre. It's their brand."

  "Well, you better change your brand, Chris, or Peter Logan will have the promotion."

  It was Chris's turn to be shocked. "Peter Logan?" Office talk already gave an alternative name to his promotion?

  "He's at your level, devoted to his job, married, two kids..." Mike reminded him.

  "Shut up, Mike! I hate you!" His frustration made him harsher than usual, but Mike didn't take offense.

  "I'm being realistic here," he observed.

  Chris passed his hands on his face to clear his mind.

  "I know." He sighed. "This is like reading Proust. And I haven't built up the courage to do it yet."

  Mike patted him on the shoulder. "You can do it. You know you can."

  Chris straightened his back and took a deep breath. "Right. Focus. One last effort. I can do it."

  Mike smiled sympathetically. "Of course you can. Take it as another reading marathon. Wanna try Dostoyevsky first?"

  3.

  Chris tried online dating as if it was another job for the Goldberg Corporation. The usernames were sometimes interesting, sometimes funny, sometimes intriguing, but the person behind them was dull.

  As he explored the brand new world of internet matchmakers, he thought he might as well ask his fuck buddies while he was at it. Carrie was a great gal and a great fuck. They enjoyed each other's company, especially in bed. So he decided "why not" and, as he lay beside her after their latest sex marathon, he shot the question, "Would you marry me?"

  Her reaction was a little excessive, though. She jumped up, glaring at him. "Are you out of your mind?" she snapped.

  "Why? The sex part is good, so I thought I'd ask."

  "Forget it." She dressed quickly, never looking at him. "Remember the rule? Just sex. If any of us asks for more, we split."

  The fiery blonde stormed out of his door, slamming it in the process. Chris sighed. Okay, maybe Carrie was the wrong one.

  "I had to ask... I guess," he told Mike the day after at their usual lunch break meeting.

  "And how do you feel about it?" Mike asked, frowning in worry.

  "Since when are you a shrink?" Chris snapped.

  "I'm not, I just worry for you. Did it hurt?"

  "Not really." Chris shrugged. "I knew it would be like that."

  "Fine." Mike nodded. "What about the other date, Candygirl?"

  "Ouch." Chris grimaced in disgust. "Didn't really work, actually."

  "What is she like?"

  "Strong and self-conscious."

  "Physically. What does she look like?"

  "She's a little overweight, but has a great smile."

  "Oh. You should have known someone who loves candy can't be slim." Mike shook his head, disappointed.

  "It's not the weight, I mean, she's not ugly, but... she's just too much."

  "Too much of what?"

  "She wants to go out, have fun, reads only magazines..." He resumed eating, worried.

  Mike stared at him for a moment. "Okay, too much full of life. So who's next? Loveseeker?"

  Chris shook his head. "Empty-headed."

  "Aren't you being a little picky?" Mike chided.

  Chris shrugged. As if it was easy finding someone compatible at his age. Younger women wanted other things. Older or the same age were probably already married. There were times when Chris really resented the order to find a wife or lose the promotion to a married man. That didn't help either, of course. A month had gone by and he hadn't moved one inch closer to his goal. If the next five months would be like that, he might as well resign and look for another job – for his own peace of mind.

  ***

  I read Cara Mc Kenna's Curio. The premise was intriguing, a thirty-year-old virgin going to a French male escort to learn about sex. The story is good, I liked Didier. But I'm not sure that's how it might go for me. I mean, I gave up the idea of paying someone to "unburden" me. The idea makes me laugh nervously, and feels like a waste of money. I mean, if he's so skilled to help me through it, he must also cost a fortune. So, no thanks. You can't miss what you don't know, right? Apparently sex is addictive – although I can't figure out why. If I think about it, it's not really tempting. I know that if and when I'll allow a man to come close enough to get intimate with me, I'll have to shut off my mind, or I'll never let go. I think I know enough now to say I'm not interested. Maybe the person who will change my mind is somewhere out there. I don't know. What I've learned about men doesn't make me want to spend my life with one of them. I'd rather be writing. Which reminds me I better finish that darn manuscript! Latest baby is almost born, yay!

  ***

  Mr. Goldberg studied Chris's printed file, then put it down, taking off his glasses.

  "Very well, Mr. Coleman. I think that'll do." He grinned at Chris, who relaxed slightly in his seat. "Oh, by the way, I'd love you to join us for an informal party on Saturday."

  Chris's heart sank, but he put on a smiling face. "Of course, sir. I'll be delighted to meet your wonderful wife."

  "There will also be a number of single ladies for your consideration, if you like," Mr. Goldberg continued.
/>   Ah, so that was the reason for the invitation. The old man was relentless.

  "I appreciate the thought," Chris said. "It's not that easy to find someone."

  "Yes, I know. 'Commitment' is a scary word."

  "I am committed to this company, sir."

  "I know that, Mr. Coleman, but I'm living proof that it's never too late to commit to a woman – a relationship for the old days."

  "You need two willing people for that." Chris hesitated. "Can I ask you something, sir?"

  "Sure."

  "Do you remember Eddie Johnson?"

  Mr. Goldberg nodded, raising his eyebrows in a questioning look.

  "Are you aware that he married my sister?" Chris insisted.

  "Yes, sad story." Mr. Goldberg nodded, thoughtful. "I'm very sorry for you. But it's been, what, ten years? I'm sure you're over that sad episode."

  "Maybe I'm not," Chris replied. "Don't you think that a wife could be distracting for me?"

  "Eddie Johnson blew a deal because he was an arrogant prick," Mr. Goldberg said a little impatiently. "On the contrary, I think you need that special thing a woman can bring to your life."

  Of course, Chris didn't have a woman in his life – not even a relative – anymore. What a woman could bring, he had no idea. He had lost his mother too soon, and had other problems with his sister, not to mention a burning passion that left him scarred for life. He called her Heartbreaker, and tried never to think about her – although she still popped up in his sleep from time to time, and they were never pleasant dreams.

  "I'm quite content and complete as I am," he objected.

  "Denial is the first symptom of a problem. I think it's time you close that door on the past and look to the future with hope."

  "Which means starting a family?" Chris couldn't keep sarcasm out of his voice. The old man was frustrating.

  "Precisely." Mr. Goldberg nodded. "And don't do it just to please an old fool. You badly need it. I'll see you on Saturday, Mr. Coleman. That'll be all."

  Chris took back his files and left, jarred. He couldn't understand his boss – sometimes a father, sometimes a dictator. He couldn't figure out why Mr. Goldberg was so set on finding him a wife that he even invited him to his own house – something he hadn't done in the twenty years Chris had worked for the company.

  He thought maybe if he found someone to accompany him on Saturday, maybe Mr. Goldberg would give him a break. He tried his last card by calling Sandy, a friend-with-benefits who had developed a crush on him, and begged her to meet. So far she had refused, obviously unable to see him, but he managed to convince her to come to his place to talk. Maybe she was ready to tie the knot, who knew.

  He welcomed her with a smile, but she didn't even look him in the eyes. She entered his house and stopped in the entrance, staring at her feet.

  "I came because you sounded distressed, but it's only to tell you this," she said quickly. "Don't call me ever again, I can't take it anymore."

  "Sandy, I called you because I wanted to talk," he said, a little puzzled by her behavior.

  "You call only when you want to get laid!" she snapped, glaring at him before hanging her head again.

  "Well, it's going to change," he replied. "I need to get married soon..."

  "And you call me to talk about your fiancée?" Now she sounded hysterical. Her crush was obviously still alive. He had always pretended not to see it, so he felt uncomfortable dealing with it.

  "I don't have a fiancée yet. Would you?"

  "Would I what?"

  "Be my fiancée and then my wife?"

  She stared at him, shaking her head. "So far you've been cold, but never cruel." Her eyes filled with tears. "This is the cruelest thing you could tell me."

  "But Sandy, I thought you loved me!" he protested, baffled.

  "I do! But do you love me?"

  "I like you, I enjoy being with you..."

  "But you don't love me. So asking me to marry you, knowing what I feel for you, is the cruelest thing you could ever do!"

  She stormed out, banging the door.

  Chris was speechless. What was wrong with women? Why – whatever he said or did – was it always the wrong thing for them?

  Mike shook his head when he related the episode. "Man, how unlucky."

  "I guess now I know who my real friends are," Chris grumbled, unhappy with himself and his life for the first time in years. Damn Mr. Goldberg, did he really have to screw his balance?

  "Forget your fuck buddies," Mike made a dismissive gesture. "I think I can set you up with an old friend of mine. Will Saturday work for you?"

  "No, Saturday I'll be at the Goldberg Mansion."

  "Wow." Mike was impressed. "Keep your eyes open while you're there! Way to go, man!"

  Chris doubted things would be any better at his boss's house.

  4.

  Saturday was blissfully sunny. The Goldberg Mansion had acres of gardens at the top of a hill overlooking the city. Guests stayed mostly outside, where the catering tables had been dressed under white gazebos.

  Chris decided to take a look inside. Mr. Goldberg was nowhere in sight in the garden and he was curious about his boss's interior design tastes. He saw paintings on the walls, both contemporary and old. There were rooms that looked from past centuries (much like the house itself) but with modern gadgets thrown in the middle.

  He found Mr. Goldberg in a small studio covered with bookshelves, a mahogany desk with a very modern PC and digital frames that contrasted with the 19th century feel of the room. He was chuckling with his wife, but brightened at the sight of Chris.

  "Welcome, Mr. Coleman." He offered his hand with a smile. "You're kind of late."

  "I'm sorry, sir, the streets were packed," Chris apologized.

  "Yeah, I guess everybody is out for sunshine."

  "It's certainly a beautiful day for a garden party."

  "Please, let me introduce you to my wife, Danielle."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Chris shook her hand and thought she looked pleasantly shy for a fifty-something woman.

  "Mom, have you seen Helen?" All three were startled by the voice of a pretty brunette – a twenty-year-old modern princess. "I seem to have lost her again!"

  "No, honey, but you know she doesn't like this sort of thing," Mrs. Goldberg replied. "She's probably hiding in her room."

  "I've already checked there and I really wanted her to meet someone!" The girl looked disappointed.

  "Well, why don't you meet my dear colleague, Mr. Christopher Coleman, while you're here?" Mr. Goldberg told her. Then he turned to Chris. "This is my only daughter, the very spoiled Amanda."

  Chris knew she was not his biological daughter, as Mr. Goldberg had married a widow with a small child. The girl's father had been Mr. Goldberg's brother, who had died one summer in a boat accident. Ever since Mr. Goldberg had stopped going to the seaside for his vacations and stuck to the mansion on the hill. And had adopted Amanda, of course, hence she called him "dad" – having not really met her biological father.

  The girl seemed to notice Chris only at her father's words and forced a smile on her pretty face. "C'mon, Dad, don't say that!" She shook Chris's hand. "Nice meeting you. I'm not that bad, by the way." She turned back to her father. "I really have to find Helen first," she insisted. "But I'll be back for you, Mr. Coleman. May I call you Chris?"

  "Of course, Miss Goldberg."

  "Please, call me Amanda. See you later!" She rushed out with a dazzling smile.

  Mr. Goldberg cleared his throat. His wife shrugged and Chris smiled indulgently.

  "Forgive my daughter's behavior," Mr. Goldberg said. "I guess I'll have to do the introductions myself. Come."

  He took Chris by the arm and guided him out of the room, sending a kiss to his wife from the doorstep. Chris thought the display of affection was ridiculous for the elder couple. They were obviously still in love, but he was jarred by how they showed it – well, mostly Mr. Goldberg.

  Chris hoped it w
asn't his boss's way of trying to convince him, because he was having the opposite reaction, cringing at the thought of himself in twenty years behaving like that in public. Luckily Mrs. Goldberg seemed much more reserved – and a real lady. Pity she was taken. Her bright daughter wasn't as charming.

  After a couple of hours of socializing with the Goldbergs and their friends, he went for a walk in the garden. He reached a marble terrace and stared at the city, musing on relationships and the people he had just met. He wasn't sure he wanted what Mr. Goldberg had.

  He sighed, wondering if he could leave without being rude. He turned back towards the house and was startled to see a young woman in a flowery summer dress, seated with a notebook in her lap, busy writing longhand. Her brown hair was tied in a ponytail and she seemed lost in what she was doing.

  She was invisible from the house, so Chris walked to her, curious to meet another person who had shied away from the party. "Hello," he greeted, startling her.

  She stared warily at him. "Hi."

  "What are you doing here?" he asked.

  "Avoiding the party." Her tone was a little sharp.

  Chris saw Amanda coming from the house.

  "Chris, what are you doing down there?" she called.

  He saw the seated woman cringe and glare at him, so he averted his eyes from her. "A breath of fresh air."

  Amanda giggled. "Don't be too long. Have you seen a brunette in a flowery dress?"

  Chris glanced at the seated woman, who shook her head mouthing "No!" with a frown.

  "I've seen plenty here today, but I don't know who you're looking for," Chris answered.

  Amanda had stopped beyond the line of neatly cut laurel bushes that hid the woman. "My cousin, Helen. Never mind, I'll find her. We'll start the barbecue in thirty minutes."

  "I'll be there," Chris promised, waving good-bye.

  Amanda left. Chris looked at Helen, who sighed in relief. Well, here was the mysterious woman Amanda had been looking for all along. Interesting.

  "You must be Helen," he said.

  "Thanks for not giving me away," she said, relaxing slightly.

  Chris sat on the grass near her, disappearing from the guests' view. "You're welcome. My name is Chris."