The Devils Bargain Ch 07

I spent Christmas Eve with Mom. We exchanged gifts: I got her a manipedi, she got me a sweater. Well, we all need sweaters. On Christmas morning, I took her to mass at her church (one of the two occasions per year that she attended). Yes, I sat and suffered with her throughout.

Later in the day, I joined Aarti at her parents' house, and met them for the first time. They weren't particularly impressed with me, but they weren't rude. All in all, they were much more polite than my parents would have been. Geetha and Uncle Dru were there, too, and made the whole thing much better. I'd bought gifts for both of them, which went over very well.

It was quite late before we returned to my place. Yes, Aarti finally agreed to come to my house. I agreed to keep Freya in the basement, and not to force Aarti to meet her.

We exchanged gifts alone, just the two of us. I had booked us a trip to the Bahamas in February. Aarti squealed in delight: she hated the cold, and loved hot weather and beaches. The prospect of seeing her in a bikini

might

have entered my mind at some point.

Aarti presented her gifts to me with great solemnity. First, a very unusual deck of tarot cards. Never mind the fortune-telling aspect, these were works of art.

- "It's very important that your cards be a gift." she explained. "That gives them a special aura, and added meaning."

Then she gave me a second gift, a beautiful rosewood box, just like the one she had, to keep the cards in, complete with a silk scarf to 'preserve' them. Of course, I had to do a reading for her there and then. She was tremendously pleased that I volunteered, and then told me how significant that was.

Her third gift was simply being inside my house at all. She completed that one by accompanying me to my bed for the very first time.

Strange, yes. Crazy, maybe. But Aarti was simply the sexiest woman I'd ever been with. You may laugh at the relatively small sample size I had to compare her with, but I knew that she was exceptional.

On Boxing Day I dropped off gifts for Sylvia (our cleaning lady), and Mrs Kovacs (Mom's neighbour). Then I spent most of the day with Mom. Aarti surprised me by calling to ask if I would be home by 9:00.

- "I can be. Why? What's up?"

- "

I miss you

."

We'd been together for months. We'd made love less than 24 hours ago. And she wanted more. Can you understand

my

infatuation?

On the 27th, I went over to George and Anna's for dinner. I had gifts for them, and for Lisa - in her case, a framed photo of her with Freya. It was a very good shot: Lisa looked radiant, with a big smile, while Freya was looking up at her while panting, so that it looked as if the dog was smiling, too.

- "I love it." she said. "Thank you, Dan."

We talked about the neighbourhood, of course, because George was the biggest gossip for miles around. Then it was Lisa's schooling - she was one semester away from getting a double major in psychology and social work.

- "So you didn't need all of that math after all." I joked.

- "No. Your tutoring was very important, though. I learned a great deal from that." Lisa was a proponent of what used to be called, long ago, a 'liberal' education. Forget your politics; it was an old concept (medieval?) designed to give students broad knowledge, and transferable skills, including values, ethics, and a sense of responsibility.

George and Anna (both teachers) were in complete agreement.

- "The kids specialize too early." said George. "One geography course, one history course - then they're done. Nothing against math and science, but we have a couple of generations now that have no idea what's been going on. They think that Vietnam was part Rambo, part Chuck Norris, and part Arnold Schwarzenegger. I have one kid - one - who's seen Apocalypse Now. And he thought it was 'cool'."

- "George." said Anna. I was fascinated. All these years, and we'd never talked politics or religion. You don't do that, right? Unless it's with close friends or family, you don't inflict your opinions on others - isn't that right?

- "Sorry." he said. "I get frustrated sometimes. I asked my students if they'd ever heard of Guantanamo Bay. Two of them said yes: they thought it was a beach resort."

I'd never heard my neighbours - my friends - talk this way. I didn't immediately understand everything they were on about, because ... well, I'm an engineer. But I was also a critical thinker, especially when it came to religion. I could sympathize with George's frustration with people who accept dangerous ideas without question. We had a great discussion, with everyone sharing experiences from very different perspectives.

I went home feeling very ... warm. George, Anna and Lisa had done me hundreds of favours. They'd never failed to be there when I needed them, and had shown up many times when I didn't expect them at all. Now they had welcomed me into their home, and made me feel like a friend.

I crossed the street with a bottle of cognac (George), a wok (Anna), and a book from Lisa. It was 'Stranger in a Strange Land' by Robert Heinlein.

- "Didn't he write 'Starship Troopers'?"

- "Yes. Did you read the book, or see the movie?"

- "Both." I said. "But isn't the book ... kind of old? I'm surprised that you're into something so old."

- "If it's science fiction, or fantasy, it doesn't matter how old it is, as long as it's thought-provoking."

I looked at the book. "And this one is?"

- "Yep." she said. "I hope you'll enjoy it."

My Christmas spirit might have come late, but it had definitely arrived.

***

In January, Aarti took me to see a professional astrologer. Oh, yay. My girlfriend had already told the astrologer most everything she knew about me. Strict religious upbringing, engineering, late bloomer, widower, etc ...

Yes, I was annoyed that Aarti had shared these private matters - which I had told her in confidence - with a complete stranger. The astrologer then probed for additional information. Time of birth. Exact location. My parents' dates of birth. My sister's.

It was complete bullshit, of course. For Aarti's sake, I wasn't overtly hostile, but you could certainly have described my attitude as sullen, or unforthcoming.

- "Malinda is just trying to find out about you, sweetheart."

- "Sorry." I said. "I just have ... bad memories about my first pastor."

It took

forever

. I'm not a patient person, but my life experiences have helped me to conceal my impatience and my anger. I put up with the Inquisition, for Aarti's sake.

I had to make arrangements for our trip to the Bahamas. Sylvia (the cleaning lady) agreed to stop by Mom's place twice that week (to have lunch), in addition to her cleaning. Mrs Kovacs was happy to check on Mom every day. My neighbour Anna promised to take over some baking on Sunday, and spend some time with Mom.

But I was going to be relying heavily on Lisa.

- "Do you think that you could look after Freya for ... a whole week?"

- "Of course. When you're in the Bahamas?"

- "It's ... I know it's a lot to ask."

- "No. It's okay. Would it be better if I stayed at your place? That way I'd be there if Freya needed me. I already have a key. I can also bring her to our house while I have my night class, so she won't be lonely."

- "You're a godsend." It was an odd thing for me to say, given my feelings about religion, but the sentiment was there. I wouldn't have a moment's worry while I knew that Lisa was looking after Freya. "I don't deserve you."

- "Burton's Lake." she said.

- "Lisa. We've been over this. You don't owe me anything for that." I said.

- "You've paid me an exorbitant amount of money for something I would be happy to do as a favour." she retorted.

- "I don't want to take advantage of your good nature."

Lisa pursed her lips. She looked like she wanted to say something.

"What is it?" I asked. "You were about to say something."

- "I don't know ..."

- "I'm not paying you enough?"

- "You've paid me more than enough. Too much, in fact."

- "Lisa, I'll be eternally in your debt if you can look after Freya while I'm gone. What can I do for you in return?"

Lisa raised her head, and looked me in the eye.

- "Really?"

- "Of course. Name your price." In hindsight, that wasn't the best way to say it, but Lisa's response was even more unexpected.

- "Take me on a date."

I'm not 100% certain what a double-take is, but I'm pretty sure that I experienced (or performed) one right there. I'm not sure how whiplash feels, either, but I was pretty close to that, too.

- "Uhh ... what?"

- "Just a date, Dan. I'd like you to take you me out - for dinner, maybe?"

- "Lisa ..."

- "You don't understand. It would just be a date. I don't think I've ever been on a real date. There are guys at school that ask me out. They talk about themselves for an hour or two, while drinking heavily. Some of the more clever ones ask me questions about myself, but they rarely listen to the answers. They're too busy checking me out. Both types keep ordering drinks for me, thinking that if I'm drunk enough, then they can get into my pants. I'm sorry - I don't mean to be crude."

- "No. That's okay." I said. I was stunned. Could young males be that stupid and disrespectful? Apparently, they could.

- "At the end of the date - if you can even call it that - they're disappointed, or even angry if I don't go home with them."

- "That's awful."

- "It is. Then there's the 'Netflix and chill' guys. They invite me over to watch a movie, or a show. Sometimes they splurge on a pizza and a sixpack. They drink the beer, eat most of the pizza, and then expect that I'm going to give them a blowjob. They seem to think that I

owe

them at least that much."

I was horrified, and embarrassed for my gender - not for the first time.

"I just want to experience a normal, average date, without feeling that I have to defend myself at every moment. I'd like to have sort of standard, to compare future dates to."

- "But -"

- "I know that you have a lovely girlfriend, and that you're very devoted to her. I would feel very safe with you. I could relax and enjoy the experience."

- "Lisa - I'm twice your age." I was 44, and Lisa had just turned 22. This was a badbad super badbadbad idea. But I had no other real options when it came to looking after Freya. I'd been counting on Lisa - and now she had this crazy condition.

- "Would it be different if I was

thirty

-two?" she asked. That was ... a difficult question. Aarti was 33. Monica was 28 when I used the phrases on her. But this wasn't a line of reasoning that I should be pursuing. This was Lisa, the little girl next door.

- "I don't know ... what would your parents say?" It was a weak answer, and I knew it, but I couldn't think of anything else.

- "Mom thinks that it's a good idea. Dad wants me to join a convent and become a nun. But I think that I could learn a great deal from you. You could think of it as tutoring me again."

I did really need Lisa to look after the dog. And she wasn't asking for much: one date was hardly the end of the world. To refuse her, when she was doing me such a big favour, would only make me feel guilty.

- "I would have to talk to Aarti about it."

Lisa's face lit up. "Of course. But - you will? That's great."

When I mentioned it to Aarti, I didn't use the word 'date'. I told her that Lisa wanted to be taken to dinner instead of accepting money for looking after the dog.

- "Is that the girl across the street?" she asked.

- "That's the one."

I had more trouble with Mom.

- "Why do you have to run off in the middle of winter?" she said. "What about me?"

- "Do you want to come with us?"

- "NO!" she said, rather emphatically. "I just don't see why you have to do all of this gallivanting around. It's ... disrespectful."

To Connie? Mom didn't say so, but I think that's what she meant. In Mom's opinion, I should be visiting Connie's grave weekly, and living in celibacy to honour her memory. I wasn't about to tell Mom that I'd already been celibate for nearly half of my marriage to her daughter.

I was taught to be responsible. I rejected my parents and their misguided brand of religion, but I didn't throw out everything they'd instilled in me. It was sad, though, to see that Connie's Mom was so ungrateful.

I let all of those feelings go as Aarti and I boarded our flight. She was as excited as I was. I wasn't prepared for the heat, when we landed, but the bright sunshine, the pristine beaches and the incredibly blue sea all astonished me.

We had a fine meal, and made love in our luxurious room before falling asleep. The next morning (rather late), Aarti got us both moving. We had a light breakfast, and then hit the beach. Her bikini was a work of art - actually, it was her body that was the work of art, while the swimsuit was only the frame.

I was unpleasantly surprised by the number of men who went beyond gawking or leering at Aarti, and actually came over to hit on her - even with me sitting right there. She handled them all the same way, with a polite smile and a gentle 'not interested'.

She'd obviously dealt with this many times before. Aarti frequently put her hand on my arm, which did indicate that we were together, but also reminded me to let her deal with it. That made sense, I suppose; there was nothing to be gained by getting directly involved. Getting punched out by some beach ape (or doing the punching out myself) could have spoiled our vacation.

There were two little things that bothered me, though. First, Aarti often responded with a smile first, and only declined the invitation or suggestion (or whatever it was) a moment later. It seemed that she actually enjoyed the attention for the first few seconds. I wasn't sure that I understood that. Did she really need constant confirmation that she was attractive and desirable?

The second thing was the smile. Sometimes - not always, but sometimes - her smile reminded me of the day we'd met, in the lawyer's office. I didn't appreciate the fact that she was sharing those smiles with other men, even if she had no intention of letting them get any closer.

Still, I commiserated with her; I had never actually never considered how difficult it was to be a beautiful woman. In addition to the temptation to rely on your looks rather than your brains or skills, there was the never-ending, mostly unwelcome attention from males. Some were subtle, some were unpleasantly direct or even disgustingly crude. Quite a few had trouble understanding the word 'No'. But I didn't want to show any open jealousy or irritation; not after Aarti had revealed how easily

she

got jealous.

I resolved to stay close by her the whole week. But it almost ruined the first couple of days of our vacation. Then Aarti came up with a wonderful solution: we slept in.

We made love every night, well into the early hours of the morning. We slept late, and then made love again. Instead of getting up for breakfast, we simply skipped the first meal of the day. We had lunch, or brunch.

The beach wasn't as crowded in the afternoon. The Casanovas and Lotharios did much of their prowling in the morning, before heading for the hotel pools or bars in the afternoon. There were exceptions, of course, and there was no way to prevent men from hitting on her while we were at dinner. Yes, even with me sitting beside her.

- "I'm so tempted to take pictures of them." I said. "Then I could post them on Facebook, with the caption 'This guy hit on my girlfriend while we were at dinner'. I wonder what their wives or girlfriends would think."

Aarti laughed, but she also shook her head. "You don't want to give them an excuse to turn on you. You've been very wise to leave it to me, Dan. If you were step in to protect me, some might see that as a challenge and start a fight. Don't forget: many of them are liquored up before they get up the courage to come over."

She was right. Part of me was tempted to fight, though. But for every battle I won, there was another I might lose.

Aarti left me in no doubt that I was the only one she wanted. She proved it to me over and over, on that vacation, both in how deftly she repelled unwelcome advances, and how passionately she made love to me several times each day.

When we finally flew home at the end of the week, I felt like I needed another week off to recover from my vacation.

***

Now I had to repay Lisa for looking after Freya. I chose a modest restaurant, and told Aarti exactly where I would be. I asked her not to text me, so as not to embarrass Lisa - or me. I also went across the street to have a conversation with Anna.

- "It's fine, Dan." she said. "Lisa has had some bad dating experiences, and she's trying to establish some sort of frame of reference for the future. I'm sure if you just treat it as dinner with a friend, you'll be fine. She thinks the world of you."

That was the problem. I'm not completely stupid; I was afraid that Lisa had developed a crush on me since the Burton's Lake episode. I didn't want to encourage any unrealistic expectations, but I also didn't want to hurt her feelings, or alienate my most reliable dog-sitter.

She'd had bad dates. She was hoping that I might be able to show her what she could (or should) expect from suitors in the future. She wasn't family (a positive thing, in my case), but I sometimes thought of Lisa as the niece or the god-daughter that I'd never had.

I drove the 35 yards that separated her house from mine. I got out of my car, and rang the doorbell. Lisa answered the door, wearing a very nice green dress. It showed a bit of leg (Lisa had very nice legs) and a bit of cleavage. She'd had her light brown hair done, so that loose corkscrew curls rested on each shoulder, and tumbled over her chest.

- "Wow. Ah - you look lovely." I believe that a young man should compliment his date if she's made an effort to look good for him. But it was also true: Lisa looked very nice. She was slender, and very pretty. She had none of Aarti's earthy sexuality, but Lisa had fine features and lovely hazel eyes.

She looked exactly like what she was: an intelligent young woman. She stirred my protective instincts - I couldn't understand how young men wouldn't feel the same urge.

- "We won't be late, Mom." she called over her shoulder.

- "Have a good time." answered Anna, from the kitchen.

I escorted my 'date' to the car, and opened the door for her. Once I was behind the wheel, I complimented her again.

- "You really do look wonderful."

- "Thank you." she said. "And thank you for taking me out. I really appreciate it."

- "Least I could do. Plus you tricked me into it."

She laughed. "I think it's called leverage." she said.

- "Have most of your dates really been

that

bad?" I asked.

- "I wasn't exaggerating, Dan. I'm not sure that I've actually been on a traditional date. Maybe I just get approached by the poorer students. I now know that 'Want to meet up for coffee?' means that I'll be paying for my own. 'Meet you there' means the same thing."

I couldn't really comment, because I'd had so little money myself by the time I finally got away from my parents. My first few dates with Connie were a visit to the art gallery, and a walk in the park.

"It's not just that, though." said Lisa. "It's more the presumption that they expect me to have sex with them, regardless of how little effort they make. One guy invited me over to watch a movie, and opened the door wearing a stained sweatshirt. He hadn't even bothered to shower."

- "Ouch."

- "Right? He could have made a

little

effort."

- "You would think so." Yeesh - how stupid could you be? You get a girl like Lisa to come over to your place, and you do that? I didn't say that, though - I didn't want to pay her

too

many compliments, back-handed or otherwise.