Chapter 3: Matchmaking
At least I had turned the corner. Barbara was no longer hostile toward me. She called me often, wanting to become my confidant.
"Where are you taking her?" she asked.
I had the evening planned. I even had a late model car reserved, having given specific instructions to Millie and Herman to steer customers away from it. "I'm making reservations for dinner at Barossa, and then we'll go to one of the motels on the outskirts of town."
Barossa was the fanciest restaurant in town, and I could see that Barbara approved. "Don't take her to a seedy motel. Bring her to the house. I'll go out, but you'll have to help me."
"Help you?" I asked.
"I'll need a date. You must have a friend that won't mind keeping me entertained until one AM," she said, becoming silent, letting her request sink in.
I pictured her, waiting for my reaction. Barbara was a tall, big-boned woman, probably in her early-thirties. She had a pretty face, but I'd never seen her show interest in men. To me, she was Danny's older sister, overly-protective sister-in-law of Ginny.
"My friends are nineteen, twenty and twenty-one," I said, really thinking out loud. She wouldn't be interested in a kid my age, would she?
"You must know someone in his late twenties or early thirties."
There was something in her voice that grabbed me. It came to me; Barbara was using my night with Ginny to get herself fixed up. She had yearnings of her own, and she was making me want to help her. Trouble was, I didn't know a single male in that age range.
"Would twenty-six qualify?" I asked, remembering that Herman was twenty-six, and I seemed to recall that he was single. Twenty-six and single; did he like girls?
"I don't think so," she said, sounding thoughtful. "What does he look like?"
"I'll bring you a picture," I offered, and Barbara, although she didn't sound excited about the prospects of meeting someone twenty-six, didn't reject the idea entirely.
Driving home from school the next day, I saw why Barbara was opposed to my taking Ginny to a motel. Even after a romantic meal, finding the room number, inserting the key in the lock, opening the door, and stepping inside a room that reeked of disinfectants would be a turn-off.
I had to find someone who would keep Barbara out until after midnight, someone she approved of.
Herman, as it turned out, had a girlfriend. I didn't ask him; Millie told me.
"I need to find a date for Ginny's roommate," I said.
She glanced at me, and then looked out to see a couple get out of a car. "Go ahead, it's your turn," I said.
"You take them. They're more your style," she said, and I saw her looking at a couple of guys who were getting out of a BMW, and heading toward the car I planned to use on our big night, the only Mercedes Coupe on the lot.
Both parties wanted to take a car for a test drive. Millie made copies of their drivers' licenses while I attached the dealers' plates to the vehicles.
"Blind dates are my worst nightmare. They never work out," Millie said while we were waiting for our customers to return.
"It's only one night. Anyway, she wants to see a picture before she'll agree to go out with someone."
"How old is she? I may know someone," Millie offered.
"She's about thirty-two or three, five-nine, and a little overweight."
"I know just the guy. I'll get you a picture," Millie said.
The cars returned, and both customers gave us the standard line, "We'll be back," and left.
It was time for Millie to leave for the day, and I didn't find out who she had in mind to keep Barbara busy while Ginny and had the house to ourselves for a few hours.
It was Saturday, the eleventh of October, and I couldn't get it out of my mind that it was Edie's eighteenth birthday. I considered calling her to wish her a happy birthday, only deciding against it when I remembered that in only one more week it would be Ginny's twenty-fourth birthday.
"Here's the guy I was telling you about," Millie said, shoving a photograph under my nose. "His name is Clifford. I spoke to him about keeping your girlfriend's roommate busy, and he's up for it. Let me know if you want to reserve him for next Saturday."
Clifford looked enormous. "How do you know him?" I asked.
"He's a mechanic at the agency where I worked before I came here."
They had worked together, but I sensed something more. "How well do you know him, Millie?" I asked, still looking at Clifford's huge frame. He had to be six-four, and weigh two-fifty.
"He's the right age, and he's free next weekend," Millie said, in a take-it-or-leave-it tone of voice.
"How well do you know him, Millie?" I repeated, wanting some assurance that Barbara would be safe with this giant.
"Okay, we had something going for a time, but I had to put a stop to it. He's just too big for me."
Millie's admission that Clifford was too big sounded totally out of character. She was a fighter. It wasn't like her to back off from anything. "I'm small," she added.
True, she was only five-three, and weighed less than half of Clifford's two-fifty, but she was definitely not petite. Millie could use her wits to hold her own with any male. My blank stare must have told her that I needed further explanation.
"Down there," she said, smiling meekly as she opened the door to go out to the lot.
"Down there," I repeated, feeling like a complete dunce when I got it. Millie, who laughed at crude jokes and usually responded with one of her own, had just admitted that she was small, down there.
Did that mean what I thought it meant? Was Clifford big, down there? Would I make a mistake by introducing Clifford to Barbara?
I looked at the photo again. He had a kindly looking face, not handsome, but gentle, even jovial perhaps. I rationalized, telling myself that it was only one date. On the back of the picture was a telephone number. I would show the photo to Barbara. Should I warn her that Clifford was big, down there? No, it was only one date. If she liked what she saw, I would talk to him, just to set the record straight; it was only to be one date.
"He's a mechanic," I said as I handed Barbara the photo.
