Cheapskate in Love (35 page)

There was only one obstacle, a minor one, on the path to
Helen and Bill’s unfurling union: They had to find a new hairdresser, since
neither of them wanted to see Donna again. Catherine had called from the salon
soon after Bill’s return home, to express what sorrow she could at his mishap,
and she offered to cut his hair at his apartment, without any surcharge. But
Bill thought she merely wanted to torment him, while Helen thought she wanted
to gather gossip. With Bill’s consent, Helen declined her offer, saying that
Bill had decided to shave his head, as Catherine had once suggested, and
wouldn’t need someone of her talent anymore.

For their first actual date that day in December, Bill wore
a business suit and shirt that Helen had selected from his closet and sent to
her cleaners, while Helen settled on a one-piece pastel dress with a ruffled
skirt. It was something she had owned for many years. As he drove her in his
battered car into Manhattan, he was reminded of his ill-fated date with Donna.
He told Helen more details of that barbecue party and the pre- and
post-happenings. Embarrassment had prevented him from dredging up much from his
memory of that disastrous time for anyone before. Helen tried to discourage his
retelling, because she thought that occasion best left in the past. But he
insisted
,
conscious of a guilt he felt compelled to
discharge, since she had warned him in advance about Donna. She listened
attentively and couldn’t help smiling at times, but she refrained from asking
questions until he finished, when she turned to him with an arch look.

“Would you like to have hamburgers tonight for dinner, so
you can defend me?”

Throughout his recital, his face had been troubled, but now
he broke into a grin. “Have you been spending time with Donna’s crowd lately?
Is that why you need defending? I hope not. I don’t think there’s a hamburger
on the menu where we’re going.”

Their dinner that night was high above Manhattan in the
Rainbow Room, an elegant restaurant near the top of an art deco skyscraper, where
there was also a dance floor and a live big band. As he had done in the past,
Bill was splurging on his date, contrary to his usual tightwad tendencies, but
never had he done so with better reason before.

To save money, he had wanted to drive back home late that
night after dancing, but Helen insisted they stay in a hotel room. After a
little silent reflection, he thought that was a fine idea, as long as there was
only one bed in the room, which he would arrange. At first, he booked a room in
a hotel a mile from the restaurant, because it had the cheapest rate, but he
was forced to cancel that reservation when Helen found out. “Remember,” she
told him, “you weren’t walking at all a few months ago. The hotel should be
real close, unless you want to hop in a taxi.” He didn’t want to use a taxi,
but he was reluctant to find a closer hotel, because of the price, until Helen
said he didn’t need to give her any flowers or chocolates that day. Then he
cheerfully reserved a standard room at the closest hotel. Little economies
suited them both.

The dinner was delicious and full of eye appeal. Since Helen
had fed him by hand for months, he was cured of his hoggish habit of guzzling
food. He did complain about the tiny size of the steak he was served, but it
didn’t seem so small to Helen. She reminded him that they would be dancing
soon, and he didn’t want to have too much in his stomach. He understood what
she was hinting at and didn’t say another word about the portions on his plate.

While they dined, he casually asked her what she thought of
marriage.

“Are you proposing?” she wondered, with the quickening
feeling of someone ready to accept.

“No, I’m doing some calculations.” He was thinking about how
much an engagement ring would set him back.

“You can put me down in the ‘yes’ column.”

Her answer pleased him, of course, but he saw that he would
have to seriously consider the expense of a ring and the other expenditures
that marriage and uniting households involved. Moving closer to Manhattan or
buying a pied-à-terre there seemed unavoidable, since she had brought up those
subjects at least sixty times in the last three months. His brow became
furrowed with thinking.

Later on the dance floor, where he and Helen were the
slowest swinging couple among the number of dancers there, he was suddenly
inspired with a cost-effective solution.

“What’s wrong with using your old wedding ring?” he asked
excitedly, as they swung close together. “I can use mine. We won’t have to buy
anything.”

She was slightly startled by his suggestion. She wasn’t
averse to prudent measures, but she didn’t think that they should embark upon
marriage in the stingiest way possible. Living with another person required
sacrifices and compromises, she knew, and she thought that Bill’s capacity for
listening and giving still needed to be enlarged.

“I want a new ring,” she asserted, moving more freely than
him on the dance floor, not holding back her enjoyment, because of his less
agile condition. “With rubies, diamonds, and emeralds. And I want a matching
necklace with matching earrings. We can go looking together, so you buy exactly
what I want.”

Bill stopped dancing. He was stunned. He looked at her, as
if she had suddenly been transformed into one of the greedy, grasping harpies
he had known before.

She continued dancing, swinging with ease, perfectly aware
of his discomfort. “An ankle bracelet would be nice, too, dear. Women of all
ages wear those things.” She had no real interest in anklets or sets of
jewelry, but she wasn’t about to tell him that yet.

When he had stood a few moments like a totem pole, staring
at her, aghast with anxiety, she flashed him a sassy smile, as if to say he
wasn’t going to get what he wanted all the time, so he had better get used to
it. He understood what she meant without any need for an interpreter. She was
the first woman that he actually paid attention to, and his skill at reading
her behavior had advanced far. He had discovered how little it cost him and how
great the return on investment was.

He grabbed and gently crushed her in a kiss.

Through the windows around the ballroom, the lights of
Manhattan shone in the distances beyond and below, thousands and thousands of
lights, illuminating the cold, dark, December sky. To them, the lights seemed
to signal so many more special evenings and beautiful moments together. The
sounds of the big band stirred the air, calling them, and they started dancing
again, by no means the fastest or most daring dancers on the floor, but in all
likelihood the happiest.

The
End