Cheapskate in Love

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 right 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 beautiful 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.