THE DEVIL'S BARGAIN Chapter 8
"Would you go out with me again?" said Lisa. "For real, this time?"
I'd been expecting that question. Not right at that moment, though. Lisa had taken care of Freya while I went to the Bahamas with Aarti, and again when I went to Calgary to see Holly. On both occasions, she had turned down money, and asked for a 'practice' date. Now that I was no longer seeing Aarti, I wasn't planning to ask such a major favour of Lisa again.
I suspected that she had some kind of crush on me. But I thought that it was some sort of idealized, 'from a distance' thing, built on the fact that she'd known me for half of her life, and that I'd tutored her.
Lisa had done me a hundred favours. When Connie first got sick, there was a big winter storm. I stopped at her Mom's place, to shovel her driveway. It took a couple of hours before I could get home. And there were George and his teenage daughter, shovelling my driveway.
I thanked them - profusely - and offered Lisa some money, which she refused. I tried to insist, but she persisted in turning me down.
Then she became my go-to person for looking after Freya. I leaned on her heavily when my wife was sick, and even more when Connie passed away. Then I called on Lisa again when I started seeing Holly and Monica, and Aarti. Given the sheer number of hours she had invested in helping me, I had to be a pretty incredible guy.
Standing in front of my house, though, I drew a blank. What should I say? I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but it would be unwise (and unfair to Lisa) to give her any encouragement.
- "I don't think that's such a good idea." I said.
- "Oh?" she said. "Have you thought about it?"
Damn. Lisa was quite calm. It was almost as if she had expected me to say something like that. I was off-balance, and unprepared for this conversation, whereas she seemed ready to win a debate. I played for time.
- "I, ah... I have to go over to Connie's Mom's place. Could we talk about this another time? Tomorrow, maybe?"
- "Whenever you like."
- "Tomorrow after... morning?"
- "Around noon? I can do that." she said.
- "Okay. We'll talk then."
Phew. I had twenty-four hours to collect my thoughts, and prepare my arguments.
Mom was surprised to see me, because she hadn't specifically asked me to do anything. I swept out her garage, and gave it a thorough cleaning. In the process, I found some relics from the 18th century and even a few from the Pleistocene Era. I've heard of pack-rats, and compulsive hoarders, but this was ridiculous. I pulled out a few boxes from the very back, which looked like they hadn't been disturbed in a decade. Then a few more. I put them all in the trunk of my car, and took them to the municipal Waste Disposal Centre.
I got home in time to feed Freya, and take her for a walk. I was still trying to organize my thoughts. So far, what I had looked like this:
- the age difference. I'm 44 (nearly 45), she's 22.
- I've been working for almost twenty years. She's a student.
- Life experience. With that kind of age gap, what could we possibly have in common?
- Her parents. I loved George and Anna, and owed them a great deal. How could I do this to them?
I didn't sleep well. I was re-hashing my arguments, and trying to predict hers. I didn't have to 'win' outright; a draw would be enough. I just had to convince her that it wasn't going to happen.
I was a bit sluggish Sunday morning. I took Freya for her early constitutional, thankful that the old girl wasn't quite as energetic anymore. She still needed entertainment and stimulation, but she was definitely slowing down a bit.
My thoughts were more scattered than I would have liked. This was like some kind of exam. I briefly considered making an excuse, to postpone meeting Lisa. But that wouldn't have been fair to her, and I really just wanted this over with, one way or another. One sleepless night is more than enough.
She was at my door at 11:59.
- "Hello." she said.
- "Hi. Come on in."
Freya's greeting was much more enthusiastic. What a traitor! Lisa gave the dog her full attention for sixty seconds, and then ordered Freya to sit, and to lie down.
- "Coffee? Tea?" I asked.
- "Could I have a glass of water, please?"
I couldn't delay the inevitable much longer. She had water, while I had a coffee - my third of the day (not my normal habit). Lisa started the ball rolling.
"You were going to explain why you don't want to go out on a real date with me."
- "It's not that I don't want to. I mean, I'm very flattered." I said. Oops! That wasn't a very solid start. "It's more that... we shouldn't. I mean,
I can't
. Lisa, the age difference is ridiculous. I'm
literally
twice your age."
- "I know." she said. "But my father is fond of pointing out that your last few girlfriends have been much younger,too. He's been living vicariously through you. I'm sure that he's told you so."
Less than a minute into the conversation, and I'd been thrown to the mat. Holly was 28 when I used the phrases on her. Monica was 26.
- "Uh... Aarti was 33 when we met." I got out.
- "And the others were closer to my age?"
This was going
very
badly. I veered off script.
- "Lisa - the age difference is... enormous. What would people say? They'd think that I was dating my daughter." Even as I said it, I remembered Monica's old flame asking if I was her Dad. It hadn't bothered me enough to make me stop having sex with her.
Lisa merely shook her head. "I could care less." she said. "Why do you think I gave you 'Stranger in a Strange Land'? I wondered if you'd be offended - but you weren't, were you?"
- "This is... different. This is real life, Lisa."
- "And have you always led your life by what people expected of you?"
Shit. She was killing me - with logic. Weren't women supposed to be more emotional? I had to get back to my game plan.
- "That may sound good to you. But the fact is, we're both at very different points in our lives. You're a student; I'm a widower who's been working twenty years."
- "We're both single." she said. "Neither of us is in a committed relationship."
- "That's not what I meant. I'm talking about life experience. People closer in age have more things in common."
Lisa just shook her head. "Like your last three girlfriends, Dan? And correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that you enjoyed our 'practice' dates. I know that I did."
She had me again. Lisa was just killing me with these rational observations. Connie had never argued this way. I was well on the way to being trounced and pinned. I had nothing left in my arsenal but the big guns.
- "I just... I couldn't do this to your parents, Lisa."
She didn't even flinch. She'd seen my big haymaker coming, and calmly side-stepped it.
- "I'm not asking you to date my parents, Dan."
- "That's not what I mean, and you know it. They would hate me if..."
- "You may not have meant it quite the way it sounded, but you wouldn't be 'doing' anything to my parents. Going out on a date with you isn't going to spoil my marriage prospects, or make me a social outcast. My father likes you. I've already said that he enjoys living vicariously through you. But he also admires you as a person. Your integrity, your responsibility, your dependability. I grew up listening to him holding you up as a model of virtue. I know that he would be... surprised, if we were dating. But my Dad has always hoped that I would become the Mother Superior of some convent in the mountains, like in 'The Sound of Music'. So he'll have to get used to me being with
any
male."
I didn't know what to say to that.
"My mother also admires you." she continued. "But she understands me better. In fact, she
encouraged
me to ask you out. Better to find out now, she said, than to wait and wonder. She also suggested that you might not be single for long."
Now I was completely flummoxed. I had fired all off all my heavy artillery, used up all of my ammunition. I had no answer to her arguments. Monica was all of five years older than Lisa. And my dear little neighbour was right: I
had
enjoyed our dates. I couldn't deny that. Holly had refused to go out with me in public. Monica and I were on different pages, and Aarti was just... kooky. But I'd felt perfectly at ease with Lisa.
The biggest obstacle wasn't just age - it was the fact that I liked and respected her parents. I was worried: how would they feel about their 22 year old daughter dating a 44 year old widower? But now Lisa was flipping that narrative on me.
She was still calm, unruffled. She'd had exactly one whole sip from the glass of water I brought her. Where did this unbelievable self-control come from?