Cheapskate in Love

chapter 30





As fast as traffic allowed, he drove to Donna’s neighborhood, which was in a different town, about twenty minutes away from his apartment. She lived in an attractive residential area with large, single-family homes on large lots. As he had planned, he parked his old car a couple of blocks from her home, so she would not see it. After taking the flowers, plant stand, and box of chocolates out of the car, he locked the vehicle and attempted to pick up the gifts. The flowers were large and unwieldy, and he was later than he wanted to be. After a brief struggle to hold everything carefully, he crushed the three items to his chest and walked awkwardly, trying to hurry, stumbling at times, to Donna’s house.

Meanwhile, Catherine and Donna were inside Donna’s large house near the front door, talking. Catherine was holding a bag of Donna’s old clothes, which Donna had given her to keep.

“I better go now,” said Catherine, brassy and outspoken as ever, “so you can get ready for your date. He’ll probably be early. And, of course, he’ll want to stay late, real late, way into the morning. He won’t ever want to go. I hope he likes your cooking.”

“Oh, stop,” Donna told her.

“Thanks for these clothes,” said Catherine, with less impudence. “I probably won’t be able to fit into anything, but I’m sure going to try. They’re all beautiful pieces. Maybe this will be the motivation I need to exercise more. Now I really must go, because I know you’re only thinking about one thing, and it’s not me.”

“I’m having real doubts about tonight,” said Donna. She was in a pensive mood that was unusual for her.

“Don’t. Enjoy yourself.”

“But I feel like I’m misleading him.”

“How? A fool like that is always lost.”

“True, but he’s going to be disappointed.”

“Good. Maybe he’ll pay more attention to me or Helen, rather than act like a fathead, ogling you.”

“I wish I could give him to you.”

“Ha,” laughed Catherine. “He’s not ready yet. You need to take care of him. I’m really going now.”

“See you Monday,” said Donna, as she opened the front door.

Catherine was about to leave the house, when she screeched to a halt in the open doorway, overwhelmed by what she saw. There was Bill on the sidewalk, in front of the house next door, approaching. He made an unforgettable sight in his clothes, burdened with his gifts. Bill saw her and wrinkled his face, as if he smelled something bad.

Donna wondered why Catherine was standing there, speechless, so she looked outside and saw Bill, too. When Bill perceived Donna, his dream girl, he broke into a showy smile, like the sun appearing from behind clouds. His smile jabbed Catherine into speech again.

“My God, Halloween came early this year,” she gasped to Donna. “What is he supposed to be?” Bill was too far away to hear what she said.

“Oh, no,” groaned Donna, with a look of horror on her face. She was unaffected by Bill’s smile in any positive way. “Tell me what to do.”

Donna’s misery and desperation restored Catherine’s self-possession. “You can handle this one,” she assured Donna. “You’ve been in far worse scrapes before. I’ll put him in the mood to see you.” Catherine gave her a hearty hug and kissed her goodbye on both cheeks.

“I wish you would take him with you,” Donna sighed.

“Not a chance. That ninny needs to see you first. When he wants me or someone else, he’ll find us.”

With mischief on her mind, Catherine skipped away and went directly toward Bill, who had turned from the sidewalk up the path to Donna’s house. He avoided looking at Catherine for as long as he could. He kept his eyes and radiant smile on Donna, who didn’t know where to look or what to do. She had come out of her house and stood on her spacious, covered front porch. Although the house was large, well-cared for, and built on a big lot, it was only about thirty years old and had no identifiable architectural style or charm. The porch, which was an addition that Donna had built on, did not help give it any.

Catherine and Bill were still a good distance apart, when she greeted him rambunctiously, as if he were her twin, whom she had not seen in a decade. “Bill, what a pleasant surprise! How nice to see you! You look great!”

Since Donna was watching, he felt he had to say something to Catherine. “Hi,” he monotoned, looking at her momentarily. They were separated by less than ten feet now, and he attempted to go around her without any further talk, but she bounced straight up to him, forcing him to stop.

“Is that a new suit you’re wearing?” she asked, her face expressing child-like wonder. The suit was clearly of a previous generation, and Catherine knew it.

“No,” he snipped, feeling ungracious by her imposing upon him. He tried to circumvent her, but she blocked him.

“It’s super sharp with that shirt,” she gushed, delivering her barefaced lies with more passion than any politician. “I’ve never seen a tropical-print, pastel-stripe combination. Very snazzy.”

“Thanks.” Once more she stopped him, as he tried to get past her.

“Such a magnificent, big bouquet. Donna will be impressed. She loves flowers.” Catherine thought the arrangement was the strangest thing to give a date, who was still alive, but she kept that to herself.

“Let me give them to her,” he peeved. Again, she prevented him from moving.

“And you brought her chocolates? There must be a ton in that box. You should give them to me, because she’ll just take them to the salon for us to eat and get fat on. She has self-control, unlike the rest of us. Here, let me take them, since your arms are full.”

As Catherine reached out to rob him, with a bolt of energy Bill sped past her, like someone running from a crocodile. When he had escaped her, he became all smiles once more and gazed intently at his date. “Donna,” he exulted. “I’m so happy to see you. You have a beautiful house.” The finish line and trophy of all his imaginings was within sight, and he rejoiced.

While Bill hustled up the rest of the walk to the front porch, Catherine turned around and said to his back, “Bye, Bill. I hope to see you soon. You should go out with me someday.”

He didn’t respond, except to shudder visibly. Catherine grinned at Donna, gave her a thumb-up sign, and vigorously waved goodbye, before she went to her car and drove away.

Immobile and expressionless, Donna watched Bill, holding his large bundle of things, unsteady and tripping, try to get up the two steps to her porch quickly. When he finally arrived, panting, he told her, “You look fabulous, better than ever.” Those cloying sentiments were quite different from what she wanted to tell him. Shifting his burden a little to his side, he leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.

Donna drew back in distaste and gestured disparagingly at the flowers and chocolates. “Bill, what is all this?”

“A few small gifts for my lovely date,” he replied tenderly. He moved closer to her, and she allowed him a peck on her cheek, before pushing him away.

“You should have given the chocolates to Catherine,” she criticized, bad-tempered as a shrew. “I guess we can take them to the barbecue. I don’t know what to do with those flowers. They belong at a funeral. And where did you find those clothes? You look like a circus clown.”

Exasperated from having to point out such obvious, unpleasant facts, Donna turned around and walked to the front door, leaving Bill slightly stunned at his reception. When she was at the door, she looked back at him. “Are you coming? You can set those flowers up someplace, while I get ready.”

He immediately brightened like a lamp. “Of course. I’m right behind you. Such a beautiful home. Let me put these flowers in your bedroom.”

She rolled her eyes and exhaled heavily, oppressed with the feeling that it was going to be a long, aggravating evening. Bill clumsily followed her into her house, but his feelings were of a different nature than hers. Like a Muslim pilgrim, who has reached Mecca after an arduous, long journey, his heart filled with joy, upon entering the home of his dearly beloved.

Soon after they entered her house, however, the intensity of his feelings began to waver. She told him he could set up the flowers in the living room and watch television, while she changed into different clothes. Without responding to his non-stop stream of compliments about the house, its decorations, and herself, she went upstairs to her bedroom, slammed the door shut, and locked the handle. She remained there for over an hour, until it was six o’clock. During that time, after placing the flowers on the stand in a corner of the living room, he waited patiently at first, sitting, looking around, expecting her to return soon, so they could spend time together. He was not the sort of guy who was upset by a few mean words or hostile actions from a woman, especially a woman who looked like Donna. It would take a lot more than that to shake the romantic fantasy he had planted in his head. Yet the minutes dragged on, and she didn’t reappear. There were only women’s magazines in the room to read, so eventually he turned on the television, which he watched until she came down.

Exchanging few words, they left for the party in her car. Although his feelings were almost as strong and raging as they had been when he had arrived—his juvenile hopes for a successful evening were definitely still the same—he had come to the conclusion that he needed a different wooing tactic. While she had been upstairs, he decided that she was a quiet and reserved type of woman, who didn’t like small talk. To adapt to what he thought was her true character, he began to imitate a strong, silent man, as well as he could.

As she backed her BMW out of her driveway, however, she broke through her calm reserve, which wasn’t reserve at all, but a repressed fury and deep annoyance, to assault his silence. She looked at him sitting in the passenger seat and grimaced. She had changed into flowing linen pants, with a tight-fitting sleeveless top underneath a loose, long-sleeved, lace-like sweater. Everything was white. It was a lovely, casual outfit for summer.

“You can take that jacket off,” she said to him harshly. “No man there will be wearing one.”

He struggled to take off his jacket in the car and eventually succeeded.

“I think you can borrow a pair of jeans, too, where we’re going,” she continued, insulting him further. “They should fit, if your waist isn’t too big. Do you ever go to a gym?”

The only response Bill allowed himself to make was to wince and twist his mouth.

At that moment, Donna drove down the block where Bill had parked his car. It was one of the few vehicles on the street.

“What a pile,” she observed, seeing that car, which she didn’t recognize as Bill’s. “I’m glad it’s not by my house. It ought to be towed to a junkyard. It’s a piece of scrap.”

To him, she now seemed to be more of an assertive person than a reserved person, so he thought he had to say something and assert himself, too. “It doesn’t look so bad,” he said, softly and meekly.

She scowled at him, but said nothing. His comment made her remember where she had seen that car before. She knew to whom it belonged.