Cheapskate in Love

chapter 24





The next morning, after a long night of dancing with Donna in his dreams, Bill awoke in his studio. He sat up in bed, feeling a bit groggy. Sunlight was streaming through the cracks between his window blinds, scattering the lingering gloom in his apartment. It was the usual hour at which he awoke on Sunday to prepare for church, but that morning he was puzzled about the purpose of his normal routine.

“What am I going to do at church today?” he asked himself out loud. “All my prayers are answered. I met Donna. We’ll soon be together. I should sleep some more now, for I’ll be up late a lot before long.”

With a clear conscience and a smile, he lay his head down again on his pillow and pulled the covers over his head, planning to sleep till noon. After a few minutes of calm relaxation and a steady descent to a slumbering state, where the specter of Donna awaited, beckoning him with all sorts of suggestive body language, he suddenly threw the covers off and shot up into a sitting position, as if a siren had sounded.

“Donuts,” he exclaimed. “There’s free donuts today. How could I forget? I have to go to church.”

Now fully alert and invigorated by his insatiable appetite for free food, he hurried to get out of bed. He was forced to slow down and act with more caution when he felt a twitch in his lower back. While he stood next to his bed, rubbing the spot where the twitching had occurred, his Blackberry rang. He walked carefully to the couch to pick it up. There was a text message from Linda: “Lets go hike, lazybones. You should. Im waiting.”

“She needs a dog,” he said in disgust. “A big, hyperactive one. Two dogs would be better.”

He deleted the message and tossed the Blackberry back on the couch. While he showered and dressed for church, he hummed swing dance tunes that he had played yesterday and sang snatches of lyrics. The lyrics he returned to most often were those for “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.”

When he had dressed and had a cup of coffee, skipping any solid food since he would be having plenty of donuts later at the church’s expense, he left his apartment. He continued to hum dance tunes, while he walked toward the lobby. He wore a nondescript short-sleeve polo shirt and khakis, like he would wear to work.

Since the front desk wasn’t staffed on the weekends until the afternoon, Bill didn’t expect to see anyone in the building before he exited. The complex had only two floors and less than ninety apartments. Very few residents appeared to him to leave their apartments on Sunday morning for any reason, especially before nine, which was about half an hour away. Merrily, he hummed along, thinking primarily of donuts, although Donna was a close second.

As he turned into the lobby and looked ahead toward the door, he came to an immediate, involuntary, hum-halting stop. He stood immovable, soundless, speechless, stunned. He didn’t know who that was standing near the exit. He had never seen such a stranger in the building or the town. He completely forgot about Donna. Even the free donuts slipped from his mind. He lost control over his body and mind. He could only stare and barely breath, transfixed by what he saw.

There, like a goddess of the ancient Greeks, or an actress of Hollywood decades ago—a mesmerizing spectacle of youth and beauty that numbs the mind and ignites desires—stood Helen. She was wearing the long-sleeve, see-through blouse, the one that had shocked her and Joan the day before, over a barely visible, lacy, flesh-colored bra, with a sleek, lustrous skirt that fell above her knees. Her sheer stockings and high heels, which both had a sheen to them, contributed to her dazzling appearance. The wig she had on was similar in color to her dark brunette hair, but it was much longer and coiled tightly into a chignon with no loose hairs. It was an elegant hairstyle that showed off her neck, small pearl earrings, and a single-strand pearl necklace. A subtle use of makeup, except for the dark red of her lips, completed her chic, yet racy appearance. When Bill first saw her, she was standing in profile, holding a jacket, which matched her skirt, over her shoulder furthest from him, with her other hand on her hip. The curves of her contour were clearly visible. Her chest was raised, and one knee was slightly bent forward. Some might say that she resembled a high-class hooker, but to Bill she was a dream incarnate, a fantasy come to life.

Helen turned slowly to look him in the eyes. After a pause of intense eye contact, she purred in a low, sultry voice, “Good morning, Bill.”

Shaken as he was to the very marrow of his bones, although he now realized he knew who this heavenly woman was, he could only splutter, “Hel...Hel...Hel,” before he starting coughing uncontrollably. His body bent over, racked with a hacking cough, as if he was expelling every old thought and feeling he had ever had of her.

“Bill, are you all right?” she asked in a higher-pitched voice, somewhat alarmed. She dropped the cool, coaxing character her friends had advised her to put on in order to seduce him. Without waiting for a response, she ran to him, as well as she could in heels, still trying to keep her chest high. She began to rub his back strenuously, which made his eyes glaze with pleasure, despite his coughs.

After a few minutes, his couching subsided, but she kept rubbing her hand up and down his back. When he finally responded to her question, “I’m fine, just fine,” he didn’t indicate in any way that he wanted her to cease the back massage or leave him.

“What happened?” she asked, using her sultry voice again and pretending to be featherbrained. She knew what had caused him to cough, but her friends had advised her to act like a bimbo.

“I must have had a hay fever attack,” he said.

“I didn’t know you had hay fever.”

“Neither did I,” he replied. “It was a sudden attack.”

“You poor thing. Let me drive you to church,” she urged. “Sandra gave me her car while mine’s in the shop, so you’ll get to ride in a Jaguar. It’ll be a trip to remember.” Sandra and Joan had persuaded her to believe that what men like most after a beautiful woman is a toy, such as a fancy car. Sandra had forced her to take her car.

“Uh, I, uh, well, I, uh, maybe...” he bumbled.

“Come on,” she encouraged, raising her chest, pressing nearer to him and rubbing his back a bit more vigorously. “What will you do if another attack occurs?”

After giving her another look over, he said, “OK.”

“Can you help me put on my jacket?”

“Sure.”

She stopped rubbing his back and handed him her jacket. “I better cover up before we get to church. People there are so old and boring.”

“That’s what I think, too,” he said, looking appreciatively again at her front side, then her back side as she turned around to slip into the jacket, which he held for her with pleasure.

When she had buttoned her jacket, she slipped her right hand around his left arm. He didn’t think of resisting her touch. “Gossiping is their favorite past-time,” she said. “Some of them might say there’s not much between us.”

“They would say that,” he responded, happy to agree. He had seen that there was really very little in the way of clothing between them. Eager to please her now, when they reached the door, he held it open for her with the courtesy of a prince. When they were outside, he remembered his mission from earlier that morning and wondered if he could combine the present love of his life with another, abiding one. He stopped and asked her, “Uh, do you? There’s donuts in the social hall after church. How about, would you like, do you want, maybe, to go? They’re free.”

Helen managed to suppress a laugh at his cheapskate suggestion. Although she rarely touched donuts, after a moment of mustering what simple-minded delight she could, she chirped gaily, “That sounds wonderful. I would love to.”

“There’s always a good selection, but we have to get there quick.” When the subject was free food, he was always a serious strategist.

“I’ll be ready to run. Just say when.”

She pointed out the Jaguar in her parking spot and took hold of his arm again, which he gallantly extended. Although they only talked of the weather and other ordinary things, anyone who saw them would have thought there was a lot between them, a lot more than what a mere friendship could contain.