Cheapskate in Love

chapter 25





Before the final hymn of the church service was over—in fact, even before it had begun—members of the congregation started to trickle into the social hall, where the donuts and refreshments were being served. Bill was not the first to arrive in the hall as he had planned, because an overweight grandmother in a wheelchair blocked the exit from the pew where he and Helen sat. He was fuming immensely in frustration.

He had carefully chosen to sit at the end of the pew closest to the door leading to the social hall, with the intention of bolting for the free food at the first opportunity. But soon after the service was underway the grandmother in the wheelchair, who had poor hearing, vision, and mobility, had been rolled up next to Bill, spoiling his plans. When Bill saw others leaving for the social hall, he wanted to climb over the grandmother, but Helen perceived what he was thinking and locked her arm tightly around his, pulling him closer to her. She gazed at him with a seductive, come-hither half-smile. Instantly, he forgot about donuts. But when the celebrant had passed them by in the procession out, and the stream of people going into the social hall had increased, he regained his senses. Pulling his arm from Helen’s grip, he told the grandmother he desperately had to go to the bathroom, as he pushed her wheelchair out of the way. Not hearing him clearly, the grandmother was alarmed and shaken, fearing she was going to be harmed by his crazy behavior, but Bill sped away without noticing. Helen apologized for him and tried to soothe the grandmother’s distress, but soon she left in pursuit of Bill.

Helen caught up with him, as he was impatiently jostling and pushing his way past people to enter the social hall. She was right behind him when he peevishly raised his voice at an elderly couple and said, “Excuse me. Excuse me, please.” She slipped her hand around his arm, trying to restrain him, but her power over him was much less now, since the free, fatty breakfast foods were close at hand. He strove forward like a burning-hot lava flow, turning to tell her, “Didn’t I tell you it would be a madhouse in here. It’s a cattle stampede, except for these two turtles in front of me. I can’t get them to move.”

The elderly couple overheard and ignored him, while Helen tried to change the subject, “I still think people shouldn’t leave until the music ends. It seems disrespectful to run out.”

“Tell that to the others,” he remarked. “Free donuts seem to matter more to them than religion.”

She was about to say in an airhead way that he seemed as interested in donuts as anyone there, but he rushed on, since they had arrived inside the hall, “Finally. We’re here. Can you get the coffee, while I grab the donuts?” He couldn’t entrust the more important task to anyone else. Before she could say, “OK,” he sprinted to the table where the fried, sugary delicacies were spread out and already being taken.

A single line had formed, and people were picking up donuts in an orderly manner from one side of the table. On the other side of the table, there was an elderly volunteer lady, who acted as the guardian and protector of the donut domain, sometimes laying out new ones and making sure the table was kept tidy.

Hurrying to her side of the table, Bill grabbed a plate and napkins. When she saw him quickly take three donuts, she announced decisively in a loud, firm voice, like a father of the church delivering immutable church doctrine, “Two’s the limit.”

“My friend has diabetes,” Bill hastily replied, “and she needs to eat something quick, or she’ll faint.” He took three more donuts, all different kinds, and popped a donut hole in his mouth, before she could say anything else to him. She frowned at him severely, as he sped away. She could not tolerate ecclesiastical aberrations, especially ones advanced with such specious reasons.

On her way to get two coffees, Helen saw some of Bill’s behavior. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at his greediness. His ability to disregard what others thought when he wanted something amazed her. It was definitely a male quality she decided, probably worsened from his living alone so long. As she contemplated how she might cure him of his boorish displays of gluttony and cheapness, or at least lessen their severity, her cell phone rang.

“Hi, Sandy,” she said, answering the call.

Sandra was calling her from the large outdoor patio of a popular restaurant in a nearby town, where she and Joan had gone for brunch, purposefully leaving their wedding bands at home. They were wearing new outfits from Sandra’s daughter’s closet. In their young, stylish, extreme clothes, they were attracting lots of attention from men of all ages, as well as lots of glares from other women. Although Sandra was not giving any encouragement to the men who noticed them, Joan was having great fun flirting with strangers. Consequently, other women glared at her the most. At the moment when Sandra had dialed Helen, two suave, dark-haired, Argentinian-looking men in their early forties had approached. The more talkative of the two handed his business card to Joan, while the other gave his to Sandra. Joan preened with pleasure at their interest and chatted vivaciously with them, teasing them and insinuating things that kept them hoping. With the slimmest of smiles, Sandra silently took the card, which was offered her. Giving the man no more attention, she spoke with Helen.

“So what happened?” Sandra asked her. “Give me all the juicy news.”

“He had a coughing fit.”

“He had a what?” Sandra demanded. Coughing didn’t sound like a sign of young romance to her.

“He was so amazed, he couldn’t speak. He choked saying my name. For minutes he was bent over, coughing.”

“See? Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I?” Sandra bragged. “I knew the three Bs would bowl Bill over.”

“You were totally right. He’s been a piece of putty this morning. So easy to talk to and persuade. So completely different. It’s like he never saw me before.”

“Oh, he saw you in the past,” observed Sandra, “but he wanted to see something else. Today, you gave him his fantasy. Men need more of that to start a relationship than women do.”

“I believe you now.”

“Where are you?” Sandra asked.

“Eating free donuts,” was the droll response.

“Free donuts!” Sandra cried out so loudly in disbelief that Joan’s attention was turned from the two Argentinians. Although Joan had a suspicion about where Helen was and what she was doing, she echoed, slightly puzzled, “Free donuts?”

“That cheapskate!” Sandra fumed to Helen, not responding to Joan, who didn’t mind, because she gladly jumped back into her tantalizing, animated conversation with the two handsome, younger men.

“I know,” Helen said. “That’s what he is. He’s stuffing his face right now. He snatched a whole plate full, and it looks as if he hasn’t eaten for a couple of days.”

“A cheapskate and a glutton,” Sandra scoffed in disdain. “Such a penny-pinching miser and such a voracious pig. Are you sure you want that combination?”

“At least, he knows how to enjoy the simple things in life,” Helen said, with humorous resignation. “And he’s easily satisfied.”

“I see you’ve begun to convert all his faults into virtues,” remarked Sandra dryly.

“It’s all a matter of perspective. I’m not making things up.”

“It would be hard to make up things about Bill,” Sandra observed with a strong dose of sarcasm, “since he seems completely predictable. How he reacted to the three Bs is not at all surprising. His gorging on free donuts isn’t either.”

“Predictability isn’t a bad thing. It can be charming. It can be a comfort knowing what to expect in a man.”

“OK, OK,” said Sandra. “You’ve convinced me that you’ve fallen for him, just as much as he’s fallen for you, so do what we planned next. He should be in a good mood with all that free food.”

“You’re right. He is. I’ll call you and tell you how it goes, unless we elope, and there’s no time.”

Sandra warned her not to act foolish and lose her head, so Helen, who had been joking, laughed and ended the call. After she picked up cups of coffee, she spoke to a couple of people, whom she knew, as she made her way back to Bill. They didn’t recognize her at first, and when they did, they kept marveling at her altered appearance. Helen simply remarked that she had taken more time getting dressed than usual that morning.

After Bill had escaped with his plate a safe distance from the donut guardian, he wondered whether he should find a place for Helen to sit, or stay where he was, since he planned to plunder the donut table a second time. He decided to stay put. As he began to devour donuts, his friend Stan approached.

“I knew I would find you here,” Stan said, greeting Bill, whose bargain-hunting gluttony was well-known to him. “Trying to extend your life with a healthy, moderate diet as usual, I see.” Although Stan didn’t always go to the same service, or even the same church, as Bill, he liked having a donut or two. So sometimes he would come to the once-a-month donut socials at the church Bill attended and say hello.

“Stan, have I got something to tell you,” Bill said, excitedly, taking a short break from biting. “But if you want a donut, you better get in line. They’re going fast.”

“I’ll take one of yours,” Stan replied. “Your waist is round enough.”

Bill reluctantly let Stan take a donut from his plate, while he handed him a napkin. To prevent him from asking for a second or cracking another comment about his waist, he said, “They’re not all mine. Some are Helen’s.”

“Who’s that?” Stan asked.

“She lives in my building. I’ve known her a long time. Her husband was a buddy of mine. He died.”

“You never mentioned her before,” Stan said. “Are you...” There was only one reason he could imagine why Bill might be seeing a woman or why a woman might be seeing Bill. He had known Bill too long to think he was interested in platonic relationships with any female.

“There’s nothing between us,” Bill interjected, understanding quickly what Stan thought. “She’s friendly, but old. Let me tell you my news. You’ll never guess who I met.”

“Tanya’s sister? Tanya’s seven cousins?”

“No,” Bill answered, annoyed that Stan could ridicule his new-found happiness. “Donna. She owns a hair salon. She’s incredible. Amazing. Out of this world.”

Stan looked at Bill’s head carefully for the first time, since seeing him. “Your hair looks so good I didn’t notice anything unusual. But looking good for you is not normal. Gosh, what a big difference.”

“Funny.”

“She’s definitely talented if she took the dead cat off your head,” Stan continued. “And she covered up the grey. Nice job.”

“Talented is not the word. She’s a ten, one in ten million. And guess what.”

“She wants to see you in a month,” Stan guessed, trying to pretend that Bill had found only a new hairdresser and not a new infatuation.

“Ha, ha. I’m going on a date with her next Saturday. We’re going to a barbecue. I’m meeting her friends.”

“That’s really something,” marveled Stan. “You ought to have a great time. There’s sure to be mounds of free food. A lot more than donuts. You’ll be able to pig out with gusto, which is more enjoyable for you than making out.” In his ribbing of Bill, Stan kept a straight face, although he was having a very good time.

“True love is nothing to make fun of,” Bill said with vexation. He wished he had not given a donut to Stan, because he seemed determined to belittle his attachment to Donna.

“Nor is free food,” replied Stan. “But I don’t need to tell you that.”

At that moment, Helen walked up with two coffees and handed one to Bill. He shoved the rest of the donut he was eating into his mouth to free a hand.

“Here’s your coffee,” she said to him. “I hope you like milk and sugar. I already put it in.”

Mumbling with a full mouth, he replied unintelligibly, “Tha. Mil an sug i fi,” and took the cup of coffee.

Stan was about to take the first bite of his donut when Helen appeared. But when he saw her, he froze in astonishment with the donut inches from his open mouth. Although Stan was himself good-looking, wore nice clothing, and moved confidently in an upper-middle-class level of society, he was not prepared to see such a chic, attractive woman as Helen, talking to Bill in a familiar way. The overt, sensual appeal of her makeover affected him, too. Stan was not as stunned as Bill had been when he first saw Helen, but he was still transfixed by her and rendered rather senseless. His hand holding the donut up to his mouth slowly dropped down to his side, and he stared uncontrollably at her with an open mouth. Amused at the affect she had, she smiled at him in the detached manner movie stars use, when a flock of fans finds them.

Bill didn’t notice Stan’s reaction to Helen, because he was concentrating on chewing the mass of donut he had shoved in his mouth. After he swallowed it all, he asked Helen, “Do you want a donut?”

“No. I’m fine,” she answered. “You can have them.”

He was very pleased to hear this. “Could you hold this plate then?” he asked her.

“Sure,” she replied, taking the plate with the three donuts from him. When it was in her hand, he took another donut and began to eat it eagerly. It wasn’t until that moment that he noticed Stan staring at Helen with his mouth open and realized he hadn’t introduced them. Quickly clearing his mouth, he said nonchalantly, “Helen, this is Stan. I used to work with him. Stan, she’s my neighbor.”

At the sound of his name, Stan was pulled out of his stare. Automatically raising his right hand to shake hands with Helen, he realized that he was holding a donut in those fingers. Switching the donut to the other hand, he tried again, but saw that Helen had no free hands. So he stuck his donut between his teeth, took the plate of donuts from Helen, and shook hands with her. Afterwards, he took the donut out of his mouth, keeping the plate of donuts in his left hand. In an unusually nervous voice for an executive, he uttered some bland pleasantries rapidly, stumbling over his words, like a teenager unaccustomed to speaking with girls. At the end, he added, “Bill and I go back a long time. But he’s never mentioned you. Why I don’t know. I can’t see why. He should have.”

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.