Cinderella

Nonetheless, I tracked Marvin down the next day. By that point, I was getting really used to hitting my thumb with a hammer. He hung out in the faculty cafeteria where he liked to lecture the folks around him about the intriguing nuances of Bayesian theory. So, most of our colleagues gave him a wide berth.

I was studying him as I approached. He seemed more relaxed than usual!! That was a very bad sign. I pulled out the opposite chair, sat, and said, "So how're you and Billie doing?" He gave me his usual look, which resembles that of a bookish sheep, and said, "Oh, fine."

That wasn't what I was asking him. So, I said more significantly, "Getting any my friend?" Wink-wink... you know how us guys talk.

He just gave me an enigmatic smile and went back to eating. Okay, THAT killed me, but I'd gotten my question answered. So now it was time to make my getaway. There was a noose waiting for me when I got home.

I said, "Gotta run. Just checking in."

I was starting to stand when Marvin said nonchalantly, "She told me that she didn't want to see me anymore." Did I just hear a choir of angels?

I said, "Whut?" Okay, it wasn't clever, but I was simply too stunned. Marvin said, "Her kids were at her mom's, and we had sex last night." I'd known it was coming but the anguish was still hard to bear.

He added, "Afterward, she told me that it wouldn't work out between us. How can a person be intimate with somebody one minute and then just decide to go their separate way the next?"

I'd learned a lot in my five years on the mean streets of single life and I knew that sexual performance is a deal-breaker. Marvin had obviously struck out, thank God!! I said, "Well, it's better you found out now, rather than after you've invested a lot of time in the relationship."

Marvin said plaintively, "I was ALREADY invested. She has an incredible body and she's a fantastic lover." I didn't need to hear that. But like I said, Billie's sex life was none of my business - YET.

I'd never done a preemptive thing in my life when it came to women. There are far too many of them in the sea and my ego is pretty fragile. I mean seriously, it's a long walk back to the dugout after you've struck out. So, I relied on the fates to just plop willing partners in my lap.

I mean seriously, the effort that you've gotta put into finding a mate cuts into your "me" time. And I wasn't looking for lasting relationships, just amusement. That might sound egotistical and self-serving, to which I plead... "Guilty!!" Because HELLO!!... I'm a guy.

So, I'd go out with any woman if she was reasonably presentable, Skipper being a perfect case in point. All-in-in all it was an enjoyable existence full of exploration and new conquests. Then the celestial joker dealt me Billie Starnes and my whole view of life and love turned around a-hundred-and-eighty degrees.

I knew instantly that Billie was the brass ring. How? I don't know... I just knew. And I would regret it for the rest of my days if I didn't grab for it.

So, that evening I took a trip out to the Truck Stop. I was aware that it was a bad move tactically - particularly given the circumstances. But I didn't care. I needed to get the ball rolling.

It was a long drive for crappy food. But that wasn't the appetite that I was seeking to satisfy. The reality was that I didn't know much about Billie; whilst she was perhaps overly aware that I was fucking her friend. And in the same vein, let's not forget that I would also be tunnel buddies with Marvin if I succeeded. Those were seriously daunting odds.

The old me would have never even considered doing something that up-front and risky. But there was no talking my libido into behaving sensibly.

The Truck Stop was a classic ptomain palace, tacky brick, and chrome with windows around three sides. The clientele was decidedly lower middle class like the rest of rural Wisconsin. So, there were a few pickups and some motorcycles, plus the usual collection of high milage family sedans.

The people inside were the church-going set, salt-of-the-earth in various styles of denim and flannel. The men wore beards and the women sported intricate tattoos, all proclaiming that the possessor was a "unique" and "special" individual, even though they essentially merged into a mishmash of bad hair and blue ink.

I'd taken a second to find Billie's area and I grabbed a prime booth. She hadn't seen me arrive. So, she got a shocked look as she approached, which was followed shortly thereafter by one of wariness.

I said brightly, "My, my, what a lovely coincidence running into you."

She said, suspiciously, "What are YOU doing here?"

I gave her a smile that showed all my teeth and said, "To eat, of course. So, what's good?"

She kicked into waitress mode. She said, "The BLTs aren't bad, neither are the salads. But the steak is the best thing on the menu."

As she talked, she was looking at me with a truly puzzled expression. It was like she was trying to figure out what I was up to.

I said, attempting to sound debonair, "Well, steak it is then. Just unscrew the hooves and sashay it past the stove." She looked like she didn't think I was funny.

I admired her incredible beauty as she bustled around waiting on tables. She was wearing her standard outfit, a white oxford shirt, and jeans. It clearly wasn't supposed to be sexy. But it showcased her extreme curves and every male in the place was staring lustfully at her.

I was amazed that such a gorgeous woman would be waitressing in the wilds of eastern Wisconsin. But you can't dictate where you're born and the people you're born to. There are very few talent scouts in the tall timber of Hicksville. So, you end up where your social and economic limitations put you and that's rarely the cover of Sports Illustrated -- which was where Billie belonged.

Realistically though, I'd only seen Billie once in the flesh, and it'd been a very uncomfortable situation, a blind date. She had been a lot more reserved then. Now, she was a powerful presence, clearly very intelligent. She sparkled with energy and good humor as she engaged the regulars in constant banter and witty give and take. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

She caught me staring a couple of times and looked disgusted. Finally, she brought out my meal and more-or-less dumped it in front of me. Then she just marched off. She'd stopped to joke with every other customer.

The steak was hideous. I have no idea what the cut was. But it must have formerly worn a saddle. Even worse, the only reason I was there was to break the ice and that was clearly not happening. I'd wanted to build some rapport. But Billie was busy serving people and she was actively ignoring me. Drat!! This wasn't working out like I expected.

I'd finished eating and was sitting there nursing a beer, wracking my brain for a good opening line. I'm not usually tongue-tied around women. But the pressure of taking the first step had muddled my thinking. Like I said, love, lust, or whatever it is, turns you into an utter fool.

It was late in the evening, and the place was nearly empty. Billie said something to another waitress and then stalked in my direction. She looked grim. I got an uneasy feeling.

She plopped into the booth opposite and sat there for a full fifteen seconds just staring at me frowning. Finally, she said angrily, "Really!!?? Seriously??!! You think I would go behind my friend's back."

Okay, game on! I'd guessed that she might view my miraculous appearance that way. The girl code is a mystery to us testosterone-bearing animals. But the principle is still the same. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's boyfriend. And I was prepared to address it.

I said, "You've clearly guessed why I'm here. I know that you and Marvin have broken up. So, I just wanted to talk."

She said irate, "How do you know that?!!"

I said mildly, "He told me at lunch."

She said sulkily, "We were never that serious. But I thought I'd take a chance. He was a decent guy. There aren't many of those around these days." She was making the point that I wasn't on the "decent guy" list.

I said, "I want to change your opinion about me. You've only gotten Skipper's side. Let me tell you mine." Her beautiful face wrinkled in a frown. She really had deep, intelligent hazel eyes.

I said, "You think I'm a creep because I'm pursuing you behind my fiancé's back, right?" It didn't take a fortune teller to make THAT connection.

I continued with, "In fact, Skipper and I have never had anything other than a friends-with-benefits arrangement. She's single, I'm single and we have sex."

Billie looked shocked and then angry. She said, "You're lying... Skipper told me that you are totally in love with her and that her other suitors are the only obstacles preventing her from accepting your proposal. She's trying to decide which one of you to choose."

I thought to myself, "That lying little bitch!!" Still, it made dumping her a whole lot easier.

I said, trying not to sound pissed, "To your knowledge, have I ever taken Skipper anywhere except that concert?"

Billie said, "No, but she told me that that's because you can't afford it."

I laughed and said, "I'm leaving for England the week after next. Does that sound like somebody who can't afford to take the love of his life out for an occasional meal?"

She said weakly, "But you asked her to marry you." For the first time, she looked a little uncertain.

I laughed again and said, "I've never made a single commitment to Skipper, or even as much as used the L-word in her presence. I understand that her divorce messed her up. But we were never going to be anything other than fuckbuddies. I made that clear to her from the start and I resent her making it seem otherwise."

Billie just sat there looking beautiful and confused. She said, "I've heard about you, and I don't believe you. You're just telling me that to add me to your long list of conquests." Fair assumption and perhaps justified, but not true in this case.

I said, "Ask Skipper to tell you what we do together. How do we kill time during the many loving hours that we spend with each other? You'd think there'd be a lot of happy memories, wouldn't you? At least, if I planned to marry the woman. Well, I'll tell you what; you aren't going to get an honest answer out of her because none of that ever happened."

I finished with, "I can't explain it, but I'm very attracted to you, and I think you might be to me. I know that we could be happy together." Then I added meaningfully, "Just to let you know. I plan to break up with Skipper no matter what you decide. I don't like the stories she's been telling."

Billie grimaced and said, "That will kill her."

I shrugged and said, "All's fair - my beautiful friend. I never told Skipper to invent the bullshit that she's been handing you. You're the woman I want and it's better that I end it with Skipper now rather than string her along any further. Wasn't that what you told Marvin?"

That last shot hit home - HARD. I could see the gears turning behind her exquisite eyes. She was really a very bright person. How could somebody that smart end up a divorced waitress in a backwoods hash house? I wanted to explore that further.

I finished with, "Once I get back from the UK I would very much like to get to know you better. Serious romance is my goal. But I'm going to leave the final choice up to you. Here's my number. Call me if you want to take a chance on us. You won't regret it. Because I've never been more sincere in my life."

Where did THAT come from!!?? I meant it. But it was a long way from the fanatical lone wolf that I once was. I knew putting the decision in Billie's hands was a big gamble given the stakes. But she would have to trust me before she'd roll the dice on love. So, I had to let her decide.

I rose, gave her a meaningful look to underscore my sincerity, and walked out of the diner without another word. I drove the hour back to my place feeling both anxious and exhilarated.

*****

I think it was Samuel Johnson who said, "When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life." That was an opinion that I shared with old Sam. So, I did a teaching gig every summer at Imperial College in South Kensington.

Between the pub life and the English girls, I always looked forward to the trip. However, this year I had extra motivation to get out of town. I'd ended it with Skipper. I suppose she had her dreams, like every other desperate person. But they weren't even remotely rooted in reality and prolonging them was just digging the hole deeper.

Consequently, I sucked it up and told her that I was moving on. Predictably she didn't take it well. It didn't seem fair for me to have to suffer deep pangs of guilt for ending what was essentially a booty call. Nevertheless, it was still heartrending listening to her cry.

I told her that I thought she was a wonderful, good-hearted person and she deserved somebody who was serious about coupling up with her. But that just wasn't me. In the end, it was a cautionary tale about misinterpreting relationships. I never had feelings for Skipper except for lust. But I'm a dude. I'd fooled myself into believing that women can be intimate and not form attachments.

And let me stop you right there!!... I know what you're thinking and I'm not totally delusional. I was fully aware that I was building the same fantasy house of cards with Billie Starnes, and yes indeed, it DID make me very nervous. But I knew that I had to take the chance. Because I couldn't picture life without the woman. That was how hopelessly unrealistic I'd become. The sensible me was appalled.

The phone call came in as I was packing to leave town. It was the watershed moment of my life. I didn't recognize the number and I almost didn't pick it up. When I did, I heard a tentative voice say, "I'm ready to talk."

I laughed out loud, which was very bad form given that Billie'd just put her heart on the line. But who else but me, would get the green light from the one person he'd ever wanted to be with while packing to go away for a month? The irony killed me.

She'd already hung up when I put the receiver back to my ear. So, I quickly star-69'd her. She answered like she had been crying. My heart melted.

I said desperately, "Oh My God!! I'm SO sorry!! It's just that I've been waiting for you to call and I'm leaving town tomorrow. I reacted like I did because it was so ironic. Frustration's the story of my life."

She sniffed and said, "I know that you and Skipper have parted company and I'm ready to talk about a possible future. How long are you going to be gone?"

I said my voice dripping with regret, "A month."

She said decisively, "Well it will have to be tonight then. Can you pick me up?"

I said eagerly, "I can be there in an hour."

She said, "I need a little more time to arrange a sitter and you have to pack, right? So, make it two-and-a-half hours." That would work fine. It was only four o'clock.

I pulled up in front of her neat little bungalow at precisely 6:30. It was at the end of a long driveway on a small dairy farm outside of Waukesha. It was a perfect reflection of the woman. The well-tended yard was full of summer flowers and the house itself was immaculate.

I rang the bell and was greeted by a little girl with all the promise of her mother's beauty. She said graciously, "My name is Ally. Please come in." She might be twelve, but she was handling this like she was an adult.

There was a boy standing behind her. She said, "This is Ronny. He's, my brother. He's nine." The kid was big for his age. But very shy. He extended his hand like a man, and we shook. He blushed and said politely, "I'm pleased to meet you, sir."

Okay, I understood that it was scripted for my benefit. But I was still impressed by the grace and sheer beauty of her kids. I walked into their spotless living room which was decorated with professionally done oil paintings. The little girl said proudly, "Those are my mother's. She's very artistic."

Now I knew that "artistic" wasn't a dog-whistle for unattractive. How in the world could somebody that talented end up waiting tables in the wilds of Wisconsin?

A woman who was disturbingly close to my age was sitting in their dining area. I could see where Billie got her beauty. But as the cowboys say, life had ridden this one hard and put her up wet. I feared for Billie's future.

The woman said in a voice that could have been Billie's if it hadn't been wrecked by a lifetime of cigarettes and booze, "I'm Kath, Billie's mom."

I'd lived in the wild long enough to recognize a bar-skag when I saw one. Seriously??!! This woman was even giving me the classic, "Hi there sailor new in town" look. Some of the pieces of Billie's life began to fall into place.

Fortunately, Cinderella arrived at that point. She'd gone all-out to make herself attractive, with real makeup and hair. She was so eye-wateringly gorgeous that I actually stood there looking stunned.

My-my... how suave and debonair... The woman could take me out of my game by just appearing in the room.

Billie was wearing a little black dress. It contrasted nicely with her thick auburn hair. It was modest. But it hugged her fabulous body and showed off her legs. It was the first time I'd seen those, and they were just as amazing as the rest of her.

Her round hips were also emphasized, and you couldn't miss how tiny her waist was. But the two massive things underneath her top were awe-inspiring. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. It was like viewing the Himalayas for the first time. I said awestruck, "You're gorgeous!!"

Ronny added helpfully, "She made the dress herself."

Allison said in her big sister voice, "Shut up rodent! He's not supposed to know that!!"

I laughed and said, "She paints, she sews, I'd marry her if she could cook." Their two sweet faces registered sadness. I actually meant it as a joke. But from their look, it seemed like both kids took me seriously.

Billie said gently, "He's just kidding!" Then she turned to me and added, "They both miss having a man around the house."

I said as kindly as I could, "Well, maybe I'll be around more often once I get back from my trip. That is, if your mom lets me."

Billie said seriously, "That's what we need to talk about."

I'm sure that every one of you has had memorable times, the moments when your life changes. The next four hours were mine.

I took Billie to Artisans, which is over on the shore of Lake Pewaukee, just a short drive from her place. I'd called ahead for reservations, and they had us in a window table. The sun setting across the lake would be a romantic counterpoint to our dinner.

Billie's self-assurance was the first thing I'd noticed about her. I suppose being gorgeous your entire life makes you confident. But it was more than just knowing that she was the best-looking woman in any room. It was her fundamental intelligence. Billie's personality was rock-solid-steady and controlled. That quality doesn't fade with age.

We were both a little nervous, as we pulled out of her drive. So, just to make conversation, I asked her if she still did dairying. She told me that her ex-husband was the farmer and he'd taken the cows in the divorce. She added lightheartedly, "Good riddance. I hated the stupid, smelly things."

That gave me the opening to ask the million-dollar question. Billie was not the kind of woman you would expect to find on a farm, and I was curious how she got there. I said casually, "How did you meet him?"

She grimaced and said, "I'm the oldest of three kids. My father was a shiftless skunk. He left early and of course, you've met my mom."

I said noncommittally, "Interesting woman."