Today People

by Barbara G. Tarn

  8.

  Helen sat on the couch with Aunt Danielle, who showed her the magazine she was reading – the ad of a matchmaking agency.

  "They say here women join for free," the elder woman said. "And it's totally off-line."

  "Auntie, I'm not looking for anyone!" Helen protested, exasperated. "I'm not interested! I've got my babies to look after!"

  "Is that your stories or your readers?" Aunt Danielle asked, amused.

  Helen shrugged. "Both. I think I need a male editor. Especially when I write as Mark Johnson."

  Aunt Danielle closed the magazine with a sigh. "Do you have someone in mind?" she inquired.

  "Yes, I believe I found my Wise Reader," Helen answered, staring into space. "He sent me comments on the body switch and Air that were very interesting."

  "Good! What is he like? Does he live here? Have you met him in person?"

  Helen smiled against her will at the fire of questions. "I met him in person and I won't discuss him any further, it's bad luck," she said, determined. "I'll send him the next manuscript, we'll see what he has to say."

  ***

  Dear Terry

  Here are the things I won't tell you – not yet. Is there something else you'd like to share with me, apart from sex? You sound too good to be true, but again too much sex-oriented. Cyber-sex doesn't excite me, though, and I have no idea what happens in reality. OK, it might just be passion, yin & yang, fire & ice, whatever – you don't have to be the man of my life, I'll be just a "shag" if necessary, although I'd love something more permanent. I mean, we were supposed to write together. We could be each other's first reader – except you never sent me anything written by you and you don't seem to read much either. I mean, Chris was faster at reading my stuff! So if the platonic thing is so obviously out of the question with you, what now? I don't know, I really don't. I'm the Queen of Winter and you're the King of Summer – our relationship might be impossible after all. Ice melts near fire, but it becomes water and extinguishes it. Or just evaporates. I don't care much. I'm curious, eager, scared, ashamed, confused, I'd love to feel you inside of me, but I don't want any permanent souvenirs of this passion. Unless our chemical reaction is so strong I change my mind. Again, I think I'm going too fast forward, I should stay in the moment instead. Anyway, we'll see what happens. Gotta Go.

  Your Queen of Winter.

  ***

  Chris was glad to receive a manuscript. He had never been a beta-reader, but plunged into Helen's book like he did with all the others. Being a printed manuscript, he felt free to jot down comments whenever he felt like, and he devoured it in two nights.

  He called Helen from the office. As she wasn't home, he called her cell phone.

  "Good morning, Miss Writer. Your Wise Reader would like to meet you to discuss the manuscript."

  "Hello, Wise Reader. You're done already?" She sounded pleasantly surprised.

  "I'm a hungry reader, especially when the story is engaging."

  "I'm impressed! When were you thinking we should meet?"

  "Well, I thought a lunch break would be too short, so how about a Saturday night dinner? I swear it's not a date!"

  She chuckled. "Kind of you to sacrifice your date-evening to discuss a novel."

  "It's not 'date-evening', it's 'entertainment evening', which I'm sure it's going to be," he assured.

  "Okay, then, Saturday night."

  "Pick you up at seven thirty?"

  "Sounds good. See you then."

  ***

  Friday night Chris went to Lucy's and ended up in her bed. He made love to her, then they lay still, holding each other.

  "Will you stay the night?" she asked.

  "If you want me to."

  "I do! And tomorrow we can spend all day in if you wish."

  "Why not, but I have an appointment for dinner."

  "With who?" She stared at him, puzzled.

  "That writer I told you about, who gave me a manuscript," he explained.

  "You've read it already?" she marveled.

  "Yes, so I'm meeting her to discuss it."

  "What is she like, how old is she?" Lucy sounded more excited than jealous. He was meeting a writer, after all, and they were both voracious readers.

  "Forty-something, nice and fun to talk to," he answered.

  "Should I worry about her?" She smiled.

  He laughed and kissed her tenderly. "Are you a jealous person, Lucy White?"

  She held him closer. "Sometimes yes," she admitted. "Mostly of successful people."

  "Helen is a prolific author with many pen names, but writers seldom become celebrities."

  "To voracious readers like you and me, they can be idols," she replied. "Do you love me?"

  He hesitated. Why was it so hard to say "I love you"? That would make her happy. But did he love her?

  Her smile faded. He must tell her something – he owed it to her. She had welcomed him in her life and in her bed, she deserved more than silence.

  "Lucy... I don't know what I feel. I like you, but I'm also very confused. I'm being forced into certain situations and I'm not handling it well. I'm afraid I can't love. If you want, I can leave now and forever."

  "No!" Her fingers squeezed his arms. "No, I want you to stay." She averted her eyes, then looked at him again. "I want you to be with me," she said fervently. "I want you to fall in love."

  "I'm trying, Lucy," he assured. "I swear I'm doing my best."

  "Then stay," she whispered. She tenderly kissed him, then curled up against him to sleep.

  He switched off the light but kept his eyes open as he lightly caressed her hair. Her body was warm against him and she was better than Carrie or Sandy or any of his fuck buddies. Why couldn't he bring himself to propose to her?

  He sighed. Three of the six months were gone – half of the time he had been given. The pressure didn't help and he could foresee failure looming over him. So what? He wouldn't get that promotion. Was it really worth everything he was going through?

  And what did he need the promotion for anyway? To earn more money? For what? He didn't have a family. He didn't have much of a social life either. Why bother? Just because he liked Mr. Goldberg? The old man was driving him insane with his order to get married. Was it really worth the effort?

  ***

  So, I had dinner with Chris tonight. He had said it wasn't a date, and indeed it wasn't. I'm never sure with these darn men. Maybe he has a girlfriend now. Good for him. Anyway, we discussed the story and he came up with very interesting points. Now, I know I can't please everyone, but some things he said had already been pointed out, so... if only one person says it, I'll probably ignore it, if it's two or more, I have a problem... that's my theory! So now I'll work on the revision – he even gave me a couple of good ideas, hints that sparkled tangents that will make the story better – and in the meantime I'll send him another manuscript. He's so fast, I can't believe I finally found a beta-reader faster than Aunt Danielle! I like talking to him. Hope he doesn't ruin everything – hah, I'm sure he has a girlfriend now and won't try to hit on me! Bedtime. It was the best Saturday night of my life! I should do it more often!

  9.

  Chris printed the next manuscript at the office while he talked to Lucy on the phone.

  "Yeah, she sent me another," he told her. "Here she uses a male pen name."

  "Can you ask her if I can read them too?" Lucy inquired.

  "Sure. I have to go, I'll see you later, okay? Bye."

  He hung up, gathered the printed sheets and stored them in his laptop case.

  Sarah Gordon showed up at the door, pretending to knock. "I've got two tickets for Saturday. Fancy some theater?"

  "No, thanks, my girlfriend prefers movies," he answered, barely glancing at her.

  "You have a girlfriend?" She sounded surprised.

  "Of course."

  "And what does she do?"

  "She's a social worker."

  "A what?" Sarah scoffed, incredulous. "God, Chris, I ca
n't believe it!"

  "You better believe it, 'cause it's true," he retorted.

  "I don't see you with that kind of woman," she insisted.

  "You make it sound as if she's a whore," he snapped. "You don't know her – or me."

  She glared at him with pursed lips. "Fine, best wishes, congratulations, whatever."

  She stormed out. Chris thought Mike would be proud of him – driving the princess on the pea crazy. But Sarah really got on his nerves most of the time. She reminded him too much of someone else – someone he'd rather not think about. That Heartbreaker who still haunted his dreams – well, maybe less now, as Lucy or Helen often took her place, and the dreams were much nicer, thank God.

  He consoled himself with another trip to the bookshop and a couple of days later he took Helen to dinner again. He had read Books of the Immortals – Ether by Barbara G.Tarn and was eager to discuss it with the author.

  "I'm a compulsive writer, but you're definitely a compulsive reader," she said, pleased.

  He laughed, picking up the book and staring at the cover. "I'm not sure I like this pen name, but I sure love your creatures, and this medieval fantasy world is just amazing," he declared.

  "Wait until the Chronicles of the Varian Empire come out!" she teased.

  He put down the book. "So, what will happen in the next book?" he asked, genuinely curious to discover what else she would come up with.

  "It's set after the fall of the Varian Empire, a couple of centuries later," she explained. "No more magical creatures, the Humans reached our 15th century level – in fact print will be introduced on Silvery Earth in this book."

  "Cool. And what happens?"

  "A couple of very damaged characters will find love in spite of themselves."

  "Are you elaborating someone's story?"

  "Yes, mine!" She grinned. "I try to be open, but I don't seem to be able to find a man I can trust."

  "I don't seem to be able to find a woman to love," he replied. "I do feel attraction, but get bored very quickly."

  "Don't tell me!" She snorted, rolling her eyes. "I notice someone, decide to be open, and as soon as I get to know him better, I decide he's not worth the effort!"

  "Anyone interesting in sight?" He was curious to hear how others dealt with being single or relationships. She didn't have a six months deadline, but she obviously felt some pressure too.

  She sighed. "I went to a writers' conference, met a few writers," she said. "I'm very attracted to one of them, but... we'll see. I'd rather not think about it."

  "I know what you mean. Switch off the brain and listen to the heart and blah blah blah."

  "Yeah, pity the brain goes back on even when I don't want it to."

  "Exactly. Where does he live?"

  "New York. We should meet at another writers' conference soon."

  "Good luck, then."

  "How about you, don't you have a girlfriend now?"

  It was Chris's turn to sigh. "I do, but I don't feel my heart into it."

  She nodded, serious. She probably understood what he meant.

  He decided to change topic and smiled, hopeful. "So, when will we read the final book of the Immortals?"

  "I'm working on it," she assured. "And you know you'll be the first to read it."

  He raised his glass for a toast and so did she.

  "To the final book of the Immortals," he said.

  "And the doomed couple who will find love," she added with a grin.

  ***

  Terry part 10. What can I say. Third meeting wasn't a success, and I don't think we're communicating anymore. Now he's irritating, not funny. He thinks I'm joking when I'm serious and when he realizes I'm serious, he gives up the challenge. He's just another stranger that I found attractive for some time but never truly understood (and vice versa...). He never writes and is obsessed with IM. His chat-English is so bad sometimes I can't even figure out what he's saying. And he's so bold when he hides behind a screen – pity in person he's... shy?

  I shouldn't have told him I'm a virgin, considering the comments and questions that followed. I hate them when they think they need to teach me. And I'm sick of hearing them telling me I'm not living because I don't even masturbate! I don't know how to touch myself, my attempts didn't give me pleasure, so I gave up entirely the physical part. Not sex, thank you. Not interested.

  If I think about anyone naked, I giggle nervously and shrug it off. I still hate kisses. And the "invasion" might be a way of putting together two pieces of a puzzle, but to me it's just that – an invasion. Of my body, my life, my everything. I want a place with no men. Enough already! I'm sure Terry will vanish soon, much like the others...

  ***

  "So you came here only to break up with me?" Lucy's eyes filled with tears as she stiffened.

  Chris averted his eyes, cursing himself. He had waited for too long, given her too many illusions. And now here he was, seated next to her on her couch, telling her it was all over. She had every right to be upset or mad at him.

  "Lucy, I tried, but my heart is still not into it," he apologized, unable to look at her.

  Where was his heart anyway? Helen's face flashed inside him.

  "What happened to you?" she whined. "What woman did this to you?"

  What woman indeed. Someone too much like Sarah Gordon. He didn't want to have his heart broken again.

  "It doesn't matter now," he answered quickly. "That's how I am."

  Lucy sniffled and pouted. "You know, I pity you," she said sourly. "Living a loveless life is the worst thing that could happen!"

  "That's why I'm letting you free to find the love you absolutely deserve," he replied.

  "Why can't you give it to me?"

  "I tried, couldn't. It's me, not you. You're great. You'll find someone else."

  She sniffled again. He could feel her eyes piercing him. He hated himself for what he was doing, but he had to do it. No more illusions. Not even for him. If it was part of his job, he might as well marry Sarah Gordon. She lived for the Goldberg Corporation as much as he did, after all.

  "Please, go," Lucy snapped.

  "I'm sorry." He jumped to his feet and walked out of the door. He heard her sob as soon as the door closed behind him.

  Great, I'm a bastard. A heartbreaker. Why did I turn into this? Dionne Warwick's song started playing in his head.

  The next day he knocked on Sarah's office door. "Hi. Is the offer still valid?"

  Sarah looked puzzled. "Sure."

  Chris grinned. "I'll call you, then."

  He went back to his cubicle, ignoring Linda, who was passing by and followed him.

  "So you're going out with Miss Gordon?" she asked, baffled.

  "She asked me out first," Chris replied, sitting at his desk with a determined expression.

  "I thought you had a girlfriend!" Linda protested.

  "Not anymore," he answered, opening his workstation.

  Linda sighed. "Okay, so you picked Sarah. Why her?"

  "Because she asked me out," Chris said patiently.

  "Well, you both have an awful lot in common, both workaholic and heartless..." Linda mused.

  "Then I might make a deal with her."

  "And then what? Marry her to please Mr. Goldberg and destroy your life in the process?" she protested.

  "My life is the company, she works here too, so it would be perfect."

  "Perfect spending twenty-four seven with someone you don't love? Chris, are you out of your mind? You should find a woman to love, not a bargain! I'm sure that's what Mr. Goldberg meant for you."

  Chris started running out of patience. Why did everyone want to have a say in the matter? Why did they all treat him like a child needing advice? He was forty-five, for Christ's sake!

  "Well, he doesn't know I'm a heartless workaholic," he muttered.

  "Chris, you're not heartless, I chose the wrong word..." Linda tried to apologize.

  "No, it's quite the right one, actually," he snapped. "Anyway, I
thought I'd give Sarah a chance. I don't know her, I want to see what she is like outside of here."

  Linda hesitated. "Okay, then. But be careful, she's a good pretender."

  "I know, thanks." He shooed her off, sick of her well-intentioned advice. He knew what he was doing, but considering Linda's reaction, he decided not to tell Mike until after the date with Sarah.

  10.

  Went to the party at Paul's. As usual I got there first and left... well, second, since you can't beat Dawn, haha! Anyway, four couples and five singles (Dawn, Fred, John, Paul and I). Lots of food, thirty seconds in John's lap, toyed with my video-cam. At half past midnight I decide to go (after Dawn, like I said – she was gone with Cinderella). Paul accompanied me to my car and the good-bye kiss was a little too close to the mouth for my tastes. I mean he brushed my lips, damn him. Chemical reaction zero, or always the same disgust (limited by the brevity of the act, but enough to remind me how I hate kisses, gah!). Okay, I know Paul is not my type – another male friend who had his pass, now we might actually be real friends, doh! Except now I'm afraid I'll always feel like this and will never be able to let go. Sigh. If I can't even kiss a man, why should I consider sex? Okay, in Sugar Town they say a kiss is more intimate than sex – guess so, especially a French kiss (yuck!). Anyway, I just have enough of it all. Like Terry saying all those things on IM (jerking off at the keyboard? Glad I don't have a web-cam!) and then in person proving more shy that I ever was and then complaining on IM again that I could have done this and that and that he expected me to and blah blah blah. Men, stay away from me from now on! Good night!

  ***

  Helen joined Aunt Danielle in the small studio.

  "Was that Paul at the door?" the elder lady asked, closing her book to stare at her niece.

  "Yeah." Helen plopped herself on the couch, still deep in the musings about men – her friend Paul, but also the writer Terry, was just another failure on her part to let go and find someone. If someone was really needed, that is. She really really doubted it now, after the latest half-kiss.

  "What did he want?"

  "To not apologize for kissing me." She smiled at the memory of Paul's words.