Cheapskate in Love

chapter 27





It was a journey of approximately five miles for Bill from the church to his apartment. In his poor state of fitness, such a distance was a long one, a very long one. He couldn’t remember the last time he had walked so far. In addition to the length, the way was mostly along multiple-lane roads, without much shade, and it was a warm, cloudless day. He had only gone a mile before he was dripping with perspiration and panting. Conveniently forgetting the part he had played, he vowed never to talk to Helen again, who had put him in such misery.

The shortest route would not take him past Donna’s hair salon, but when he came to the locale in which her business was, he suddenly decided to make a detour. He wanted to revisit the place where so many happy memories, foreshadowing great future happiness, had happened yesterday. Walking at a slow pace, wet with sweat, he was slightly hunched over from exertion and dragging his feet. Finally, he reached the storefront, which he had been so reluctant to enter the day before. He didn’t think about his past fear in entering that building, though. He only thought of Donna. Smiling with pleasant memories of how good she looked, he put his hands on the plate glass window and peered in. Although he saw the shop was closed, he hoped to glimpse a ghost of her and be gratified with that pale resemblance. But no, the salon was deserted. He stood awhile leaning against the glass, panting. When he had caught his breath and felt able to continue walking, a wave of euphoria came over him, as he remembered the upcoming date with Donna. In anticipation, he kissed the window lovingly, as if it were her.

Pedestrians going in and out of restaurants along the street stared at him, as he stood by the salon’s window, making a strange display of himself. Some of the people thought that urban blight was taking root in their idyllic suburban town, and something had to be done. Oblivious to them all and their criticisms, Bill turned from the salon window, smiling, and proceeded on his way with a lighter step.

Back home, after showering and gorging on bologna and cheese sandwiches to replenish all the calories his trek had burned, he was still elated by his visit to the empty hair salon and the train of thoughts it had triggered. He had such an emotional high that there was only one sensible thing to do: Swing dance. As the tunes of big-band dance music filled his apartment, he jittered and jived, dipped and spinned.

He imagined he was dancing with Donna in the ballroom of the famous Waldorf Astoria hotel in Manhattan, with a crowd of other young people. In his mind, everyone was whirling and twirling around, trying to out-dance him and Donna, but they were the best dancers on the floor. They were raising smoke all over the place. They were on fire. They were hot and unstoppable.

“Ow!” cried Bill, as he turned too quickly for the comfort of his lower back. He fell onto his couch, holding his hand back there. His dancing for the day was over. The momentary pain, however, could not erase the happy expectation he had for next Saturday. On that day, he would see his darling Donna again.

The next morning, on Monday, the first of five long days before the Saturday he could hardly wait for, Bill brought cupcakes to the office as a surprise treat for his coworkers. Infrequently, he did this when his personal life seemed to be on the up and up; an irrational, exuberant, abnormal urge would seize him, and, to share his momentary contentment, he’d splurge on something he knew his coworkers would eat. When he placed the box of ten cupcakes, each topped with a thick inch of frosting, on a table, he invited them all to help themselves. Claire had not yet arrived, but Katie and Debbie jumped up and hurried to the cupcakes, oohing and aahing and examining the assortment. Matt watched them. He wasn’t a cupcake aficionado like the women. However, if there were any left after lunch, he would claim it was a waste to throw out such fat and sugar mounds and finish them off, even the crumbs.

“This beats the oatmeal that I was going to have,” said Katie, taking her choice back to her seat. “Thanks, Bill.”

“Three-day-old cupcakes are better than oatmeal?” remarked Matt with some rancor. He was slightly envious that the women were cooing over a gift from Bill, whom everyone knew was tight with his money.

“These are fresh and cost four bucks each,” responded Bill, without any hostility. “And there are plenty more. Help yourself.” He sat down with a cupcake, too. Matt couldn’t answer such generosity with more negativity, so he looked fixedly at his computer screen and pounded out email text on his keyboard.

At her desk now with a cupcake, Debbie held it before her face, as if it were an apple stolen from the Garden of Eden. “I really shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t eat this,” she said with a mixture of dread and desire in her voice. She was thinking of all the calories the cupcake contained. Abandoning herself to her fate, she pulled the cupcake to her lips and took a big bite. The sweet temptation disappeared quickly with a few more bites, destined to reappear on her hips after digestion.

Late as usual, Claire entered the office and immediately perceived the box of cupcakes. “Cupcakes! What’s the special occasion?” Cupcakes were usually brought into the office for a birthday or other celebration.

“Linda and him got engaged,” deadpanned Matt, looking at Claire. Bill ignored the comment. He had told them all he was no longer talking with that former girlfriend, and he didn’t want to tell them again.

“Bill, I’m so happy for you. Congratulations!” Claire exclaimed. Everyone knew that Bill was an inveterate flip-flopper in regard to Linda. It was entirely possible that there had occurred another revolution in their relationship, and they were now engaged.

“I’m going to be his best man,” proclaimed Matt, smiling broadly at his lie’s success.

Claire looked intently at Bill, who was still ignoring their exchange. “Wait a moment,” said Claire. “Bill, are you engaged?”

“Of course, he’s engaged,” butted in Matt. “A man who buys cupcakes is happy about something big. And what is bigger to Bill...”

“No, I’m not,” denied Bill.

“...than being engaged,” said Matt, trailing off lamely.

“I should have known our creative department was at work again,” huffed Claire, tiffed at being so easily deceived. She picked up a cupcake on the way to her desk and started her morning routine.

Although she had plenty of personal emails to attend to, Katie could easily relate to her coworkers when the subject was cupcakes. She wanted to know why the little cakes had appeared. “So what’s the special occasion, Bill?” she asked.

“There isn’t one. I just felt like bringing in cupcakes. Everyone likes them.”

“You’re so sweet,” Katie said, flashing a smile at him. Her cute, grinning face looked exactly like an emoticon, which she would put in emails.

Matt couldn’t let Bill’s apparently unmotivated geniality pass unchallenged. “Will everyone who thinks there is no special occasion, please raise your hand?”

No one raised their hand.

“Your hair looks nice,” commented Debbie to Bill. “Didn’t you get it done for...What’s her name? Miss Green Card.” Debbie was a bit distracted, because the box of cupcakes lay in her line of vision, and she was considering when to raid it again.

“Tanya,” said Claire, supplying the name. Her command of minutiae explained why she was the chief staff person.

“Bill has to marry Linda,” announced Matt with a straight face. “Tanya doesn’t have her persistent, sadistic charm.”

“I’m not marrying Linda,” Bill grumbled. “How many times do I have to say I’m not even speaking with her?”

“Who are you marrying then?” asked Matt, unrelenting.

“I say Tanya,” suggested Debbie. “The haircut and coloring are too good. That shows real motivation.” She asked Bill, “Did you go someplace near you? I need a new stylist, but you live too far out.” After ample nutrition, fashion and cosmetics were Debbie’s secondary concerns.

“I’m not marrying anyone,” objected Bill, who was on the verge of becoming mad. “And I won’t bring anymore cupcakes, if there has to be an interrogation.”

“OK, everyone, to work,” ordered Katie, taking charge of the situation, lest they imperil a chance for more too sweet bakery goods from Bill. “We want more cupcakes.”

Everyone turned toward their computer monitor, looking busy, except Matt, who leaned toward Bill and whispered, “Who did you meet? Is she good-looking?” The men sat at desks side by side, behind the women, so their communication was semi-private.

“Donna,” replied Bill with a ready whisper. He was willing to open up to a guy in secret about his recent conquest. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Really?” said Matt, faking amazement.

“Her picture’s here on the Internet,” Bill bragged, motioning Matt to come over to his desk. Matt went at once. Since Bill had sat down, he had been diligently going through the website for Donna’s hair salon, searching for pictures of her. He pointed out her fetching face and profile to Matt, who leaned eagerly over Bill’s shoulder, looking at his monitor. “See what I see?” Bill asked, making an hourglass figure in the air with his hands. “Are those curves or what?”

Matt nodded, his eyes aglow. “Mmmmm. Nice.”

Since he had discovered the story behind the cupcakes, there was no need to whisper any longer. He stood up and loudly addressed the rest, “Anyone want to see who Bill is marrying?”

Vehemently and repeatedly, Bill denied he was marrying anyone, but it was too late to convince his coworkers. Debbie, Claire, and even Katie rushed to his desk, talking all at once, “Who is she? Where did you meet her? What does she do? How long have you known her? Is she pretty? Oh, she is good-looking. Lucky you. Now tell us everything.”

Surrounded and bombarded with questions, Bill, who was tickled to his toes with Donna and confident of their future, decided that the easiest truth to tell his coworkers was that no definite wedding plans had been made yet.