Cheapskate in Love (13 page)

To his further chagrin, he stumbled upon another idea in his
obsessive mental concentration that was thoroughly unpleasant. Not only was she
unable to call him on the weekend, he thought her female sensitivity might
prevent her from calling him until late next week, for example, on Tuesday. He
thought she might do this, so that in her eyes she would not appear to be an
easy woman. Bill had encountered this female trait before and detested it. He
thought it was part of their craziness. Why couldn’t the women he liked show
the same, spontaneous interest in him that he expressed in them? Why did they
always make a relationship so difficult? He became peeved at Tanya because she
seemed to be acting like a typical woman, but he forgave her every fault when
he thought of her youth and beauty. Those overpowered any other consideration.
He was certain he was in love, because he couldn’t think of anything else,
except her.

He decided that he needed to impress her with the size of
his affection by spending a large amount of money on her. Battling hard with
his cheapskate character, he began to compile a list of the top-rated
restaurants in Manhattan for her to choose from. He would not put any limit
upon her choice. He might have to loosen his tie and start taking deep breaths
when the check came, but she deserved the very best meal in the city. She would
remember and return his generosity as best she could, he was sure. He even went
so far as to investigate luxurious hotels in San Francisco. He had once heard
that that was the city couples in love went to. He didn’t know why. He had
never been there. But he and Tanya were in love, he knew it, even if it was
still an early stage. That was where they should go, even if it cost him more
than he could bear to think about.

Chapter 15

On Wednesday of the next week, Bill met Stan for lunch.
Usually, a month or two would pass before they would get together again, but
Bill had something so important to communicate that he couldn’t wait that long.
In fact, he was so eager to talk to
Stan,
he offered
to pay for lunch. That wasn’t much of an enticement for Stan, because Bill
wanted to go back to the Chinese lunch buffet, where they had eaten the last
time. But Stan was glad to see his friend, and there was time in his schedule
to meet. Returning to the same cafeteria-style restaurant appealed to Bill,
because he was determined to receive the five-dollar lunch special this time.
He wouldn’t make the mistake—costly in his mind—that he had made
before.

With Stan, Bill thought he would have the most sympathetic
audience for what he wanted to say. Bill felt his life was at a turning point,
and he wanted to share the good news and hear someone else, anyone else, affirm
that what he had persuaded himself to be true was indeed true. He had been at
similar turning points before, but this time he was convinced that there would
be a romantic revolution in his single state and a union of two in his future.
Ever since his Friday commute home, he had been telling people of his surprise
encounter on the train and how much impact it was going to have on his life.

The first person he had told was Jonathan at the apartment
building. From the train station, Bill had sped home in his car, hurried across
the parking lot, and streaked through the lobby. Panting from all of his haste,
he broke the news, leaning over the front desk in close proximity to Jonathan’s
face. Jonathan hardly looked up from his cell phone game. “That’s nice,” he
said, when Bill finished. “She sounds cute.” Jonathan had heard too many of
Bill’s amorous hopes before to think that this one had any more substance than
the rest.

The apartment building manager and janitor, whom Bill saw on
Saturday by chance, reacted in the same way. They barely paused in their work
to listen. There were a few residents in the building that Bill was familiar
with, whom he thought might congratulate him and wish him well, but the ones he
saw responded with polite coldness. They knew enough about him to restrain
their belief when he said anything about women. “How interesting,” one of them
said, much like the others. “I guess a train ride can take you places you never
imagined.”

To Helen, he didn’t say a word about the momentous event
that had occurred. Why would he? He avoided communication with her. He had no
use for her. She found out about it, however, from Jonathan and another
resident. “Bill’s at it again,” they said. “Says he found a real trophy this
time.”

“I wonder what his trophy found in him,” she replied. No one
could tell her that.

Normally, Bill would not share with his sister Marie any
tidings about a woman until he had gone on at least one date, but this time was
different. The future was certain in his mind, and he had to spread the
happiness around.

Marie was smoking when he called. “You don’t want to come
over here and eat again, do you?” she rasped. “There’s nothing here to eat,
unless you’re going to pick up something and bring it.”

“No, I’m not coming over,” he said with a surge of joy in
his voice, which immediately aroused her suspicion.

“Why not? Something wrong?
Wait
,
don’t tell me
. You found another woman.”

“I did, sis. How’d you guess?” Bill shouted in surprise. He
was happy, as if he was a child again with a couple of cookies.

“I’m psychic,” she deadpanned. “And don’t call me sis. I
hate it.” Bill could not say anything to persuade her that this time would turn
out differently.

The lukewarm to frigid reception Bill received from his
listeners over the weekend, when he related his life-changing chance meeting,
made him hesitate to inform his coworkers. They could be a little insensitive,
he knew. But the great, promising nature of what he had experienced made his
silence impossible. He had to tell them. Although they could be mean and
uncaring, they were like family. In fact, they were more than
family
to him, because he was single. He could not contain
his excitement around them. He had to let them know on Monday morning.

At first, their reaction to what he told them was different;
it was much more supportive than he had expected. At least that is how it
appeared to him. Katie, of course, paid no attention to the major milestone he
described. She was busy updating her friends online about her weekend, which
was full of more surprises and drama, in her mind, than anything that happened to
Bill or anyone else. But the others were attentive throughout his narration and
asked questions and gave him advice on what restaurant to go to in Manhattan
and where to visit in San Francisco. True, they were looking at each other a
lot while he spoke and seemed to smile more than usual. At one point, when he
told them Tanya had asked if he wore a Rolex, Debbie seemed about to explode
with laughter, but a well-timed cookie, which she shoved in her mouth, defused
whatever seemed to be tickling her, and her composure returned. Claire, Matt,
and Debbie could be real pals when they wanted to, Bill thought to himself. He
finished his story and started to work, satisfied that they saw the Friday
encounter as he did, recognized the joyous change it portended in his life, and
wished him success.

Doubts about their support soon crept into his mind,
however. All three quickly left to go to the bathroom, or so they said, and
they were there for an unusually long time. They were still absent when Bill
went to the lobby on their floor to make a business call. As he sat down in the
lobby, an elevator cab opened. He immediately looked that way, because sounds
burst out of it of people laughing so hard they were near tears. There inside,
he saw Claire, Debbie, and Matt, sprawling against the sides of the cab and
falling on each other, like epileptics in the midst of seizures, their eyes
closed, unable to support themselves. He heard Debbie say, “I can’t go back. I
can’t. I can’t face him. Not yet. He’s too much. How can he think she has any
interest in him? What a...” Before she could finish, the elevator door closed.
Matt had pressed a button. The three went back to another floor to recover,
unaware that Bill had seen them.

There was a sinking in Bill’s spirits as he felt their
treachery and desertion, but it was a momentary discomfort. He could still
count on Stan, his best friend. Stan could be contradictory at times, Bill
thought, but this time the evidence was so clear that he knew Stan would agree.
He was almost certain of his support, which was the same thing as being
absolutely certain for him, because little doubts had no sway over his
thinking. His brain was like a traffic light with only two colors, green and
red. He could barely wait to see Stan, even if he had to pay for Stan’s meal.
He could bear that sacrifice for the opportunity to connect with another human
being, who would share his rosy outlook.

As they had planned for lunch on Wednesday, Bill and Stan
were seated at the same Midtown Chinese buffet restaurant they had gone to the
last time. The place was crowded as before, with mostly Chinese Americans and
Chinese immigrants. Stan was conspicuous for his well-groomed and well-dressed
appearance, while Bill in his cheap, casual office clothes was barely distinguishable
from the number of manual laborers eating lunch there, if his hair was
overlooked. Since he had successfully ordered the five-dollar lunch special, he
ate with more satisfaction and gusto than the time before. The food was
disappearing from his plate with remarkable speed. No one in the restaurant
could match his eating efficiency.

“You’ll never guess what happened to me,” he said between
tossing fork-loads of food in his greedy mouth.

“Tell me,” Stan said. Like the typical executive, he
disliked wasting his time.

“No. Guess.”

“OK,” Stan replied. He did not need any mental creativity to
guess what Bill’s secret might involve. He knew there were only a couple of
tracks that Bill’s mind traveled on, and by far the biggest one was devoted to
women. “You hooked up with that spicy Asian dish we saw here last time...”

“No.”

“She’s Linda’s niece and
..
.”

“Forget about Linda,” Bill interrupted again. “I’m through
with her. I’m never seeing her again.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“This time it’s true. When I saw her the weekend before
last...”

“You saw her?”

“Against my better judgment I saw her, and she dragged me
all over Bear Mountain for hours until I stumbled and fell. I was in bed for
days.”

Although Stan had never met Linda, he thought that this
story was a little lopsided in Bill’s favor. “I thought you said you weren’t
going to see her.”

“I did, but it was the last time. Now keep guessing. You’re
going to be surprised.”

Stan thought that that was unlikely, but he tried to think
of something surprising. “You met a prostitute, who’s an ex-nun, and now you go
to church every day together and pray in a dark side pew, where you can’t be
seen. In the missionary position.”

“Family men like yourself are supposed to have some respect
for religion,” Bill commented, disapproving of Stan’s humor.

“Right. And your head is full of holy thoughts when you’re
in a church.”

“I’m a different person in church.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure you know how to separate church from
your usual state of mind.”

“I do.” Bill missed the meaning of Stan’s sarcasm about
separation of church and state, because he was focused on something more
important. “Are you tired of guessing?”

Stan was, but he thought what Bill would have to say was
less interesting than another simplistic fiction. “The sexiest woman you’ve
ever seen...”

“Now, you’re on it,” Bill encouraged, happy to hear Stan
land upon this piece of truth. “She’s the hottest sex pot I ever laid eyes on.
When I saw her, I couldn’t turn away.”

“She came up to you and started talking...”

“You’re right. She did. There were other seats she could
have sat in, but she sat next to me.”

“When she rubbed you with her leg...”

“Yeah. And she grabbed my wrist. I thought she was going to
grab something else.” Bill gave a big smile. In his excitement, in his belief
that Stan was supporting him and confirming all that he had fantasized about
the chance encounter, Bill began to embellish what had actually happened.

“Tingles went down your spine.”

“Yeah, that happened. And something else became as hard as
my spine and tingled all over.” Bill was grinning like a monkey and ready to
jump up and down like one, too, because Stan was such a great friend and saw
everything just as he had.

“But when she undressed herself for you in bed, you realized
she was a
man
.”

“Wrong again,” Bill shot back, disappointed that Stan
couldn’t stop joking about a subject so serious and dear to him, although he
himself had just been exaggerating and joking about it, too. Bill saw that
there was no way to advance the conversation, unless he told Stan the good news
directly without any more delay. “On the train ride home last Friday—it
was a much later train than I usually take, because I had trouble walking from
the fall the weekend before...”

“How much trouble? It sounds serious.”