The Ones That Got Away

by Lou Mindar

  Chapter 52

  January 1987

  Scott set his suitcase down outside his bedroom and walked out onto the patio. The sun warmed his skin, which was still cold from the two weeks he had recently spent with his family in Illinois. It was great seeing everyone again, but he was no longer used to the cold.

  He had gone to see his family because Pamela had other plans for Christmas and New Year’s. When she told him she would be gone, he thought it was odd. Pamela even seemed a little guilty about it.

  He sat in a chaise lounge chair and closed his eyes. The sun felt good against his skin. He was fully dressed, wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve oxford shirt, but the sun still warmed him. The temperature was only in the sixties, but it felt infinitely warmer than what he had just experienced at his parent’s.

  He wondered if Pamela had gotten back from her aunt and uncle’s home in Wyoming. She wasn’t sure when she was going to come back, which seemed strange to Scott, but he shrugged it off. He wanted to go out for dinner, but if Pamela wasn’t back yet, he’d eat at home. He had never gotten used to going out by himself.

  He left the late afternoon sun outside and went back into the house. He picked up the phone and dialed Pamela’s number. The phone rang four times and the voice recorder came on. He hung up without leaving a message.

  Things had changed with Pamela. They had known each other for nearly a year, and for most of that time, they couldn’t get enough of each other. Scott wasn’t shy about saying he wasn’t interested in a relationship, but he did enjoy the companionship and sex. He thought Pamela felt the same. But lately, it seemed liked she was avoiding him. Many weekends, she’d have plans with friends, leaving Scott to sit at home. And when they did get together, she preferred to stay home.

  Of course, he was in no position to complain about it. He wasn’t even sure what he would have to complain about. He enjoyed Pamela’s company. They were friends, but she didn’t have any claims on his time, or vice versa.

  He grabbed his suitcase and took it into the bedroom, setting it on the foot of the bed. He put his clothes away, then stored the suitcase in the back of his closet.

  What he needed was a vacation. Not the two weeks at his parents, but a real vacation, with palm trees and fancy rum drinks, and rest and relaxation. He had only been home a couple of hours, but he couldn’t wait to get away. Right then he decided what he needed was a trip to Hawaii. He’d never been there before, but assumed it was exactly what he was looking for. Once Pamela got home, he’d share his plans with her. She was always up for a vacation.

  *

  Pamela smiled, then looked down at the ground. “It sounds fantastic, but I’m not going to be able to get away.”

  “What do you mean? You set your own schedule.

  Pamela held up her hand and motioned for Scott to sit. He had sprung his vacation plans on her at the doorway of her home, and they were still standing in her foyer. Scott hesitated, then went into the living room and sat on the couch. Pamela sat in a wing chair.

  “I was just gone for two weeks. I can’t leave again right after I get back.”

  He wanted to protest but realized that not everyone’s life worked like his. He exhaled loudly.

  “How long do you think it will be before you can get away?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe this summer.”

  Summer was five or six months away. He didn’t want to wait that long. He sat back on the couch and crossed his legs. “I just felt like I needed to get away.”

  “You could go without me,” she said.

  “That sounds like fun. Going on a tropical vacation all alone.” He realized he was pouting. He understood he and Pamela didn’t have a relationship, but it bothered him that she didn’t seem particularly disappointed that she couldn’t go on vacation with him. Part of his desire to get away was to get away with her. He felt a shudder go up his spine. This felt too much like a relationship. He had started building his schedule and his life around Pamela. The thought alarmed him.

  “Oh well, maybe we can go this summer. We’ll see.” He stood from the couch. “I think I’m going to head home.”

  “You’re not angry, are you?”

  “No, I understand. Everything’s good.”

  She leaned in to kiss him. He gave her a quick kiss and said goodbye.

  Chapter 53

  October 1987

  He got into the habit of reading most mornings. It occurred to him that he was on his third life, but he had never read many of the classics. If he was going to live all these lives, shouldn’t he learn something other than what it felt like to lose his family? He was almost finished reading Walden by Henry David Thoreau, and Ernest Hemingway’s Islands in the Stream was next up.

  When he was done reading—usually around noon—he’d go for a run along the narrow, hilly roads around his house. When he’d started running earlier in the year, getting up and down the hills seemed all but impossible. Now, he was able to run for miles, and his body felt much stronger than it had at any time since he had started this life.

  In March, he placed a bet on the Minnesota Twins to win the Word Series. In just a few days, he would have all the money he’d need to live the rest of his life. He hadn’t said anything to Pamela about the bet or his plans to fly to Las Vegas in a few days to collect his winnings. But he had plans to meet her for lunch later in the day. When he saw her, he’d invite her to join him in Las Vegas.

  He looked forward to having lunch with Pamela, not only because he enjoyed her company, but because going to lunch allowed him to get out of his house and see other people. His decision to not pursue a relationship during this lifetime may have been well-considered and justified, but it was boring. That was the price of remaining single and unattached. He understood that, but he didn’t like it.

  They met at Musso and Frank’s on Hollywood Boulevard. Pamela ordered the chicken Caesar salad, Scott ordered the pan seared scallops. The waiter thanked them for their order then left the table.

  “You look terrific,” Scott said.

  Pamela wore a thin red sweater and a tight-fitting black skirt. Her hair was worn up in a loose, casual fashion. She smiled. “Why, thank you.”

  “I missed seeing you last weekend. Did you have a good time with your friends?” She had gone to San Diego with a group of friends from college.

  “It was fun.”

  Scott waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. He wasn’t sure what to make of that but decided to ignore her reticence and tell her about his plans for Las Vegas.

  “I’m going to Vegas next week. Would you like to come? It might be fun to get away for a few days.”

  A closed-mouth smile momentarily crossed her face, then she brought her hands up to cover her mouth. She shook her head. Tears formed in her eyes. “I can’t.”

  Scott leaned across the table toward her. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  She dabbed her eyes with a napkin. Looking away from Scott, she took a drink of her water, then took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “Ron asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

  “Ron Jacoby?” Scott asked. “He’s old, and I thought you didn’t like him.”

  “He’s grown on me these past few months. And he’s no older than I am to you.”

  Scott sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. He didn’t want Pamela to get married. He liked the way things were between them. But could he blame her? He was never going to marry her, so she found someone else that would.

  He forced a smile. “I’m happy for you, Pamela. Old Ron got himself a good woman.”

  Pamela started crying in earnest. She held the napkin to her mouth. “I have to go.” She stood and walked quickly out of the restaurant.

  Scott watched her go, uncertain if he was supposed to chase her or let her leave. By default, he let her leave.

  The waiter brought their meals, oblivious to what had just taken place. “We’ve had a change of plans,” Scott said. “Could you make these to
go?”

  “Of course.”

  “And could I get a beer?”

  Chapter 54

  October 1987

  Scott motioned for the bartender to bring him another beer.

  “You staying in the hotel?” the bartender asked, placing the beer in front of Scott.

  Scott nodded. “I’m here through the weekend.”

  “Let me know if I can get you anything else.”

  Scott thanked the bartender and returned his gaze to the woman sitting at the other end of the hotel bar. She was alone, and was dressed up, like she was waiting for someone before they went to a show or a fancy dinner.

  “Just a word of warning. She’s a pro.” The bartender nodded in the direction of the woman.

  “A pro?”

  “Yeah, you know, a call girl. Unless you have a bundle of money, I’d steer clear.”

  Scott snickered. As it turned out, he had a bundle of money. Earlier that day, he had collected on the World Series bet. He’d met with Ralph Fry, but this time, old Ralph didn’t kick him out of the hotel. It must have been Randy that set him off last time. The thought turned his snicker into a full laugh. “Thanks for the advice.”

  Scott was still trying to wrap his mind around Pamela getting married. He felt cheated on and abandoned, but that was ridiculous. She was just a friend. He should be happy for her that she found what she wanted. But he wasn’t. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted her to want him, even though he didn’t want to commit to a relationship with her. He rebuked himself for being so needy and self-centered.

  The bar wasn’t very busy. It was a Tuesday night and still early. Things would likely pick up later, after the shows were over and the gamblers were tired of losing. He took his beer and moved over next to the woman.

  “Mind if I sit?”

  The woman checked her watch. “I’m waiting for someone.”

  She had long, dark blond hair that had been curled. She reminded Scott of a woman from a music video, with her blue eyes and white teeth and perfect cleavage.

  Scott sat on the barstool next to her. “I’ll sit here while you wait.”

  The woman checked her watch again but didn’t say anything.

  “Can I get you a drink while you wait?”

  The woman looked at Scott, who was smiling. She seemed perturbed by him, but then said, “A glass of white wine.”

  Scott motioned for the bartender, who gave him a surprised look. “A white wine for the lady.”

  “Sauvignon blanc,” she said.

  The bartender nodded and retreated to get the drink. When he delivered it, she thanked the bartender, then thanked Scott.

  Scott lifted his beer in a toast, and they both sipped from their drinks.

  “I understand you’re a call girl,” Scott said.

  She looked curiously at him, her head tilted and her eyebrows raised. “You’re not my date, are you?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  “He’s twenty minutes late,” she said. “I’m afraid I’ve been stood up.”

  “Does that happen often?”

  “Once in a while.” She took a sip of her wine and carefully set it back on the bar. “Men can be cowards. They can be brave on the phone, but then aren’t able to follow through.”

  Scott nodded. “Occupational hazard.”

  “Hey, you’re not a cop, are you?”

  The question made Scott laugh. “Another occupational hazard. I’m not a cop.”

  “Are you looking to save my night?” she asked.

  Scott took a pull from his beer. “Probably not, but maybe. What would it cost me?”

  She told him.

  “You’re expensive.”

  “But worth it.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Gabrielle.”

  “Can I call you Gabby?”

  “All of my friends do. What should I call you?”

  “I’m Scott.”

  He shook her hand. The gesture made her smile.

  “Nice to meet you, Scott.”

  “Gabby, I have a crazy idea. Do you mind if I share it with you while you wait?”

  Gabby looked around the bar, then at her watch. “I think that ship has sailed. What’s this crazy idea of yours?”

  He took a pull of his beer, then motioned to the bartender for another. Her eyes were soft blue, like ocean water, and she had a friendly, approachable smile. He liked this woman. He liked the way she looked, and from what he could tell so far, he liked her personality.

  “I made a decision. I don’t want to be in a relationship, and I don’t want to get married.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “But I like being with a woman. I like the friendship and companionship. I like having someone to go to a movie with, or out to dinner. I just don’t want to expect things from them that they don’t want to give, and I don’t want to look into their eyes when I disappoint them.”

  “You want all the good stuff with none of the bad.”

  Scott tilted his beer back and took a drink. “Let’s just say I’ve seen what can happen in a long-term relationship. I don’t want that. I want an arrangement with boundaries, where we agree up front that we’re going to have fun and enjoy our lives, but we’re not going to fall in love or get married or expect anything from the other person they don’t want to give.”

  “Aren’t you kind of young to be so cynical?”

  “Do I sound cynical? I don’t mean to. I just know that relationships can’t be controlled. You don’t know what direction they’re going to go. And I don’t want any surprises. I just want to be happy.”

  “Good luck finding that. I don’t know many women that would agree to your terms.”

  “What about you?”

  “What?”

  “What if I paid you to spend all your time with me? Rather than getting stood up on dates or worrying you’re going to get arrested, you’d have one customer. We’d do stuff together and have fun, but we wouldn’t be burdened with feelings or expect too much from each other.”

  “It’s a nice idea, but I don’t think you could afford me.”

  “I’d pay you $10,000 a month, and I’d give you a year guarantee. Even if I change my mind in a month or two, you get paid for the whole year.”

  Her eyes widened. “You know, you could get laid for a whole lot less than that.”

  Scott shook his head. “If we have sex, it will be because we want to. I won’t pay to get laid.”

  Gabby laughed. “So, you want to be my sugar daddy.”

  “Isn’t a sugar daddy normally an old guy with a wife at home? Doesn’t he usually provide his girlfriend with an apartment or something?”

  “Usually.”

  “That’s not what I want. I don’t have a wife or girlfriend, and I want you to live with me, like we were a real couple.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I think I am.”

  “How do I know you have the money?”

  Scott smiled. “If you decide you want to do this, I’ll give you two months up front. The rest will be due on the first of every month.”

  “It sounds like you’ve been planning this for some time.”

  “Not really. I’m actually kind of winging it.”

  “I don’t know. Can I think about it?”

  “Of course. Why don’t we meet for lunch tomorrow? We can talk more about it then.”

  “You’re a strange guy, Scott.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  Chapter 55

  October 1987

  It was late morning and they were sitting on the patio at Scott’s house in LA. Gabby was wearing sunglasses and sipping an iced tea.

  “Do you really want to know about my life?” she asked.

  “If we’re going to be a couple—even a faux couple—I should know about you.”

  Gabby took another sip and set her drink on the table between their chairs. “I’m from Pennsylvania originally. Alto
ona. I’m an only child. My dad died when I was young. I really don’t remember him. My mom worked her butt off to raise me and provide me with whatever material possessions I wanted. Even so, we were pretty poor. I went to Penn State for two years on student loans. Then my mom died, and I quit school. Turns out, once you’re out of school, the student loan people want their money back, and they’ll hound you to the ends of the earth to get it. I tried to pay them, but with all of my other expenses, I just couldn’t make ends meet.”

  Scott listened, waiting for her to continue. She was in no hurry, and he didn’t want to rush her. She took a drink and held the glass between both hands.

  “I met a guy, an older guy, named Kent. He had money and liked to show off by buying me things. Once in a while, he’d leave a hundred bucks or more on my nightstand and would tell me to get myself something nice. I wasn’t screwing him for the money. He was a fun guy and we enjoyed our time together. But the money did come in handy.

  “I knew Kent was married, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. I just wanted to have a good time. We went to Vegas one weekend, just the two of us. Kent had a stack of cash and we had plans to gamble, see shows, eat at fancy restaurants. But right after we got there, Kent made a phone call and said he had to go home right away. He didn’t explain why. Just gave me $2000 and told me to enjoy myself. I ended up sitting in the room watching television all weekend. When it was time to leave, I decided to stay. There was nothing for me back in Altoona.” She finished her iced tea. “I’m getting hot. Can we go inside?”

  They left their lounge chairs and went inside.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

  She walked to her wing of the house. When she moved in, they both thought it was best for her to have her own room. They weren’t being prudes. The fact was that they really didn’t know each other, and they thought it would be more comfortable for each of them if they eased into their contrived relationship.

  When she came back, Scott was in a wing chair. Gabby stretched out on the couch, her back against one of the arms.