Cheapskate in Love

by Booth, Skittle

  Like a cat purring when it’s pleased, Helen smiled at him graciously and said, “Nice to meet you.” Normally, she would say more to a new acquaintance, but today her attention was focused on Bill, and there was something she had to ask him. Stan, who had yet to accustom himself to her looks and her interest in Bill, was further bewitched by her brief acknowledgment of him. He recommenced staring at her, while he slowly raised his right hand, to finally eat the donut.

  Bill was almost finished with his, when Helen turned to him and asked in her most soothing, sweetest voice, “Bill, next Saturday, do you want to go sunbathing? I’ve found a place where I can go topless, but I need someone to rub lotion on my back. I have trouble reaching there. It’s so hard.”

  When Stan heard this, his right hand, for the second time, had almost reached his mouth with the donut. Electrified even more than before, he stood immobile, his mouth round as a balloon, his great, big googly eyes popping from his head at Helen. Once more, his right hand dropped back to his side.

  Bill’s chewing, in contrast, only paused momentarily before resuming. “I’m going to a barbecue that day with Donna,” he replied. He needed little time to decide what he preferred to do next weekend. Helen may have overpowered his weak, impressionable mind that morning, but only because gorgeous Donna was not in the vicinity.

  “Donna from the salon?” she asked, losing her cool. She remembered he had seen Donna yesterday, and she had heard many times how men reacted to her.

  “Yes, her.”

  “You’re not serious,” she said incredulous. She knew he wasn’t the type of man Donna dated.

  “Sure I am. She asked me.”

  “Do you know why she asked you?” Helen was aware that Donna’s boyfriend worked on weekends, which was when she liked to go out to parties with a young crowd, but never alone.

  “She likes me.”

  “She said that?” Helen was amazed that he could be so simple-minded about a person like Donna.

  “No, but I could see it.”

  “Do you know anything about her?”

  “She’s divorced. She’s good-looking. She owns a hair salon.”

  “And you think she has some interest in you?”

  “Why shouldn’t she?”

  “I’ve known her for years. You’re not the type of man she dates. And you don’t want to be. She collects men like postcards.”

  He couldn’t admit to himself that she might know something he didn’t, so he ascribed her words to the motive he thought common to all women. “Why are you so jealous?” he asked.

  “I’m not jealous,” she declared hotly.

  “Because she’s younger than you?”

  “She’s not younger. She’s my age. Maybe one day she’ll act it.”

  “She looks younger, a lot younger.”

  “Her plastic surgeon would thank you.”

  “You should call him.”

  That cruel insult was past the limit of what Helen was going to endure from Bill. “You’re such a fool,” she said contemptuously. “You deserve what Donna will give you. Warnings are wasted on idiots like you.” With firm steps, she walked away, dropping her coffee cup in a trashcan, as she exited the social hall. It was apparent she was not returning. Although her reaction to Bill’s offensive, personal comments had been brave and controlled, she did not feel as strong as she sounded. She had suffered a deep hurt.

  Bill didn’t plunge into penitence at her departure. He was accustomed to women screaming at him. In fact, he had come to expect such hostility and even worse treatment in his interactions with the opposite sex. In comparison to what he had heard in the past from other women, Helen’s moderate behavior and expressions hardly made an impression upon him, but he had heard her. Her words reminded him of what his sister had said in their last conversation, and he grew uncomfortable at the similarities. He tried to forget their rebukes and what they had said about Donna by taking another donut off the plate, which Stan was holding. However, he began to eat it less eagerly than the ones before. “Can you give me a ride home?” he asked Stan. “She drove me here.”

  Ever since Bill had told Helen that he couldn’t go sunbathing with her, Stan had been looking at him in disbelief. Stan shook his head no to his request and said, “The wife and kids are waiting. We’re going to the beach now.” He added with emphasis, “You really are a fool.” Not asking if Bill wanted the last donut on the plate, Stan left, tossing the plate into a trashcan. He threw the donut he had never tasted in there, too.

  Feeling a bit deserted and chastised, Bill continued eating the last of the donut he held. He looked around to see if there was anyone he knew to talk with, but there wasn’t. When his donut was finished, he wanted to have more, but the elderly volunteer was still standing guard, and she caught him looking in her direction. She waved her index finger at him, and shook her head no, barring his return to the communal table. Repeatedly repulsed and feeling most dejected by being forbidden more donuts, he drank the last of his coffee and left for his long walk home.

  Chapter 26

  A sad and changed Helen joined Sandra and Joan at the popular restaurant, where they had gone for brunch.

  When she had called Sandra in advance to say that she was coming, Sandra recognized at once from her subdued voice that something had gone seriously wrong. Sandra did not press her for details on the phone, because she could tell Helen was not ready to speak about it. While they waited for Helen to arrive, Sandra shooed all the men away that Joan had been attracting, like honey luring flies, and told her that Helen was in a bad state. Sandra said they had to cheer her up and help her forget whatever had happened.

  “The whatever is Bill,” Joan swore, “I’m going to blast his butt sky-high. When I’m through with him, he’ll be burning hotter than an exploding supernova.”

  “We can’t do that,” Sandra explained. “You’ll have to bite your tongue if necessary. If we bash him, which he definitely deserves, it’ll seem as if we’re criticizing Helen’s judgment and blaming her for liking him. Above all, we have to soften the blow of what she’s gone through.”

  Joan disagreed. She said attacking Bill would be the best way to bury his memory in the past and satisfy them all at the present moment. However, by the time Helen showed up, she had grudgingly consented to follow Sandra’s lead in consoling Helen.

  When they saw Helen, they knew she had been crying, despite the sunglasses she wore to conceal her eyes. Sandra immediately became kinder and more compassionate, while Joan became madder and more volatile, although she repressed what she wanted to say. Sandra quickly got a menu and a drink for Helen, advised her about the best dishes, and filled the air with a constant stream of small talk. She soon succeeded in her intention of distracting Helen from what had happened and putting her at ease; a wealthy socialite like Sandra has well-developed skills for saying a lot of very little in trying circumstances. Although Joan contributed some short remarks to Sandra’s rambling monologue, her temper was building. She was fidgeting in her seat more and more, dissatisfied with avoiding the topic that was on all of their minds.

  For a while, Helen remained quiet, responding to Sandra’s chatter, when she had to, with a monosyllable or a few words. Helen was grateful for Sandra’s consideration in steering the conversation to neutral topics and allowing her space to recover from her severe disappointment with Bill. But she could see that Joan was making a great effort to restrain herself, which was probably harder for her to do than endless talking was for Sandra. Helen decided that she had to act like an adult and tell them what had happened and own up to her mistake. Sitting up tall in her chair, she waved aside Sandra’s objections that it was too soon to relive the experience. Helen said she wasn’t going to be upset again. Briefly, she told them what Bill had said after she asked him, according to their plan, to go sunbathing. Sandra and Joan listened closely, only exclaiming softly in surprise a few times during the recital. At the end, Helen told them, “Now, say whatever you like. You were r
ight about him, and I was wrong.”

  “I have nothing to say, really” lied Sandra. “Bill made a big mistake, and he’s best forgotten. That’s the end to that.” With a glint in her eye, she looked hard at Joan and nudged her under the table, prompting her to say something likewise bland and conclusive.

  After taking a deep breath, Joan tried to comply. “There’s no need to talk about it. It’s all in the past. Friends help friends move forward.” She sounded like an actress reading lines that were written in a foreign language.

  “We’re here to cheer you up,” added Sandra quickly, “not make you feel worse.” Although she wanted to erase the impression of insincerity that Joan had given, her fast, forced, happy message only made the situation more intolerable for Helen. To her, both appeared to be acting deceitfully and treating her like a pouting child, and she burst out in annoyance.

  “The truth will not make me feel worse. You were right. He’s a jerk.” She took off her sunglasses. She was no longer in danger of spilling tears.

  “I agree,” jumped in Joan with gusto. “Jerk. A total jerk. A crass, class-A-certified jerk. A jerk like no other. Whatever you saw...”

  “Joan,” interrupted Sandra severely, with a grave look on her face.

  “She said it,” returned Joan, feeling free at last to speak her mind. “She called him a jerk first. Not me. I’m just supporting her. But someone needed to say it. He is what he is, and no one can change that. There’s a whole list of names he qualifies for. And none of them are nice.”

  “Helen,” said Sandra, giving up on Joan, but trying to mend the conversation by giving it some balance. “I never quite understood what you saw in him, but I believe you saw something real.”

  “A real dumbbell, you mean,” replied Helen.

  “Go, girl. I’m on your side,” Joan sang out, although Sandra glared at her most unpleasantly.

  “No, I think you saw some good qualities,” Sandra said to Helen, “a basis for a relationship, someone you wanted to know better.”

  “Wait,” interrupted Joan. “Are we still talking about Bill the jerk? I’m confused.”

  Sandra ignored Joan’s impertinence and told Helen, “You were right to try. You had to. You thought there was some hope of starting a relationship. What you did would have worked, if he was ready to have one.”

  “It was a mistake,” replied Helen. She felt ashamed as she remembered how she had acted that morning, trying to be attractive to Bill. She shook her head slightly, as if trying to shake out the memory.

  “A big mistake,” blurted out Joan, quickly clamping her mouth with her hand. “Whoops! My subconscious is breaking loose.”

  “You mean your consciousness,” remarked Sandra with some asperity. Although she was displeased with Joan for criticizing Bill and Helen, contrary to their prior discussion, she wasn’t angry. She had known Joan a long time and knew her character was irrepressible, once she latched onto an idea. To Helen, Sandra said, “No, it was not a mistake. How can you know anyone better without trying? Without taking a risk?”

  “But there were signs,” complained Helen.

  Joan nodded emphatically up and down, then just as strongly back and forth when she became aware of Sandra’s unfriendly look at her.

  “He was always avoiding me,” Helen continued. “He would lie. He wouldn’t appreciate what I would do.”

  “That’s all in the past,” said Sandra. “We aren’t going to mention him anymore. You always deserved someone better, and we’re going to find that lucky man. We’re in new territory now. Joan can tell you all about it. She’s had a busy morning.”

  “Yes, I have,” said Joan, feeling another surge of excitement from all of the attention she’d received. “This is prime pickin’ territory, a marvelous place for a lovely girl like me. And you. And even Sandy, although she’s been pretending she’s not interested.”

  “I’m worried my husband will find out,” said Sandra.

  “Now look who’s acting as if they belong in a rocker, knitting,” observed Joan. “He’ll believe whatever you tell him. Men are gullible. You could say that you’re thinking about becoming an actress. Tell him you were role playing here to see how much you liked it.”

  Sandra laughed. “That’s a good excuse. I’ll say our daughter inspired me.” The idea of Sandra acting because of her daughter’s influence made all three women laugh. To Helen and Joan, Sandra never seemed to be the type of person who was swayed to do something by someone else. To Sandra, the person who was least likely to persuade her to walk out on a stage, something which had never crossed her mind before as a desirable activity, was her daughter.

  When their laughter had subsided, Joan said to Helen, “Now, let’s get started on your new life. I shall be your personal guide and perform all introductions on a complimentary basis. No gratuity asked for, or expected. See that man over there?” Joan pointed to a well-dressed, handsome man in his fifties, who was sitting at a table about twenty-five feet away with two other men.

  Helen looked in that direction and locked glances with the man, before turning away.

  “He’s been looking at you, since you got here,” said Joan. “He’s a good-looking dish, isn’t he? I almost wish I wasn’t tied down already. I would fight you for him.”

  “He must be married,” replied Helen.

  “I’ll be right back,” announced Joan. She quickly stood up and sashayed over to the man, who watched her advance toward him, intrigued. On her way, she waved flirtatiously to other men, who had introduced themselves to her earlier. When she arrived at the man’s table, she placed her hands on his shoulders and whispered in his ears. They exchanged a few words.

  “What’s she doing?” Helen asked Sandra in amazement and unease.

  “Trying to help you,” Sandra responded.

  “I feel like I’m back in high school.”

  “High school wasn’t such a bad time,” said Sandra. “There are worse things, you know, like what happened this morning. Or did you forget about that already?”

  “I don’t need to be reminded.”

  “OK, not another word, ever,” promised Sandra. “Here’s something for you.” On the table in front of Helen, she placed a stack of ten business cards, which she and Joan had been given that morning by hopeful admirers.

  Helen quickly flipped through the cards and saw impressive titles at well-known companies. “Where did you get these?” she asked.

  “You’re not the only one who can choke men up,” replied Sandra. “The men were swarming around the table this morning. Joan was doing more to draw them here than I was, but a few flew at me, too. If that man over there doesn’t work out, we’ll make some calls and come back here, or go to other popular spots, until you catch something you like.”

  “Maybe Bill has been good for something,” said Helen.

  “That’s the last time you’ll ever say his name again,” Sandra told her. “The last time ever.”

  Joan returned then with the handsome man in tow. Pointing first to Helen, then to Sandra, she introduced the man to them, “Helen, Sandy, meet my new friend, Tom. He’s single.” When she pronounced that last word, she smiled significantly, raising her eyebrows at Helen.

  Tom was not the bashful sort. He had a confident way with women, like that of a skilled womanizer. In addition to his polished manner, he had a seemingly solid character that made almost any woman, whom he showed an interest in, feel, within a short period of time, that she could trust and depend upon him. That’s how his two previous wives had felt, when they married him.

  With a warm, manly voice, he asked the three women, “Ladies, can I join you? I can’t think of a better way to spend this morning. I was practically falling asleep with my buddies over there. They aren’t that exciting or good-looking. You are the best looking bunch here, and...” He gazed at Helen with his liquid blue eyes. They were the deep blue of the Aegean Sea that sparkles at the base of cliffs. “If your friends will let me say so, you are the most be
autiful of all.”

  Helen blushed a shade of crimson in embarrassment, like a lobster being cooked. She turned her head away, not knowing how to respond to such flattery.

  Sandra was ready to make up for Helen’s loss of words. “Sure, Tom, you can say that. We don’t mind. If you have any more compliments for her, just keep them coming.”

  “She’s single, too,” Joan added, jubilantly. “Just like you. What a wonderful coincidence, don’t you think?”

  From embarrassment and shame, Helen wanted to slide under the table and crawl away, but she stayed, and soon she joined in the conversation with Tom, who was an easy, interesting talker. Although she didn’t say as much as Sandra or Joan, she began to be pleased with how the day had turned out.

  Chapter 27

  It was a journey of approximately five miles for Bill from the church to his apartment. In his poor state of fitness, such a distance was a long one, a very long one. He couldn’t remember the last time he had walked so far. In addition to the length, the way was mostly along multiple-lane roads, without much shade, and it was a warm, cloudless day. He had only gone a mile before he was dripping with perspiration and panting. Conveniently forgetting the part he had played, he vowed never to talk to Helen again, who had put him in such misery.

  The shortest route would not take him past Donna’s hair salon, but when he came to the locale in which her business was, he suddenly decided to make a detour. He wanted to revisit the place where so many happy memories, foreshadowing great future happiness, had happened yesterday. Walking at a slow pace, wet with sweat, he was slightly hunched over from exertion and dragging his feet. Finally, he reached the storefront, which he had been so reluctant to enter the day before. He didn’t think about his past fear in entering that building, though. He only thought of Donna. Smiling with pleasant memories of how good she looked, he put his hands on the plate glass window and peered in. Although he saw the shop was closed, he hoped to glimpse a ghost of her and be gratified with that pale resemblance. But no, the salon was deserted. He stood awhile leaning against the glass, panting. When he had caught his breath and felt able to continue walking, a wave of euphoria came over him, as he remembered the upcoming date with Donna. In anticipation, he kissed the window lovingly, as if it were her.