Just Three Dates Page 4

  “You know her daughter, Emily, but she also has a son.”

  “Yes…and?”

  “Mark is a professor at the college, you know. A math professor.”

  “A math professor? You want me to…to marry a math professor?” Her mother’s suggestion made less sense than would a declaration that the sky be purple.

  Her mother ignored her. “He’s very nice, unmarried…”

  “Take me now,” Karen whispered, closing her eyes and bowing her head as if in prayer.

  “…and he has agreed to go out with you.”

  “Agreed to go out with me?” Karen’s head snapped up. “You’ve been recruiting men for me?” Karen’s mouth dropped open. “How could—”

  “He thinks you’re very attractive, and—”

  “How would he know what I look like?”

  “He’s seen photographs and he—”

  “The ones you were looking at when I dropped by a couple of weeks ago? The five-by-sevens?” Karen could feel her blood pressure rising. “The photo of me at the Simpson’s pool party in June?”

  “Yes. They were all very good likenesses.” The expression on her mother’s face showed she did not understand Karen’s reaction.

  “You’ve been soliciting men for me as if I were a common—” Karen sprang to her feet, slapping her fist against the table.

  “Now, Karen, calm down.” Her mother motioned for her to sit. “I gave them to Elizabeth Stuart. No one else. Mark has agreed to three dates with you.”

  “How good of him.” Karen’s sarcasm was unmistakable, she was certain. Even to her mother who was, clearly, delusional. “Based only on my photographs…what a pig.” She glared at her mother as she plopped back into her chair. “No doubt what he’ll plan for us to do on a date.” She turned her head away. “I’ll wear a chastity belt.”

  “That’s not fair, Karen. I know you weren’t in the same grade, but Mark remembers you from high school, and he has talked with his mother about you. He’s really very nice.”

  “He’s loaded, I take it.”

  Her mother sighed. “His family is very well off. More important, he needs a wife.”

  “And love is not important?”

  “Love him, like him, tolerate him. Whatever.”

  “And sleep with him.”

  Her mother blushed. She leaned close, as if to prevent anyone in the empty house from hearing what she said. “A tumble in bed a couple of times a week is a small price to pay.”

  “I can’t believe those words just came from my mother’s mouth,” Karen exclaimed, turning away from her mother, her arms crossed. “The woman who insists a man won’t buy the cow if he gets the milk for free.”

  “We’re not talking about before the wedding…Sweetie, just give him a chance. It’s every bit as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one, but in either case, you have to meet him first.”

  Karen stared at the water in the pool, a grim expression on her face. “What’s wrong with him?” She glared at her mother. “Why is he not married?”

  “I’m not sure. Something about some girl who broke his heart.”

  “Damaged goods, then.”

  “How do you think Mrs. Stuart responded when he asked why you’re still single?”

  Karen opened her mouth to speak, but changed her mind. She looked up, staring at the puffy, white clouds.

  “I know Robbie hurt you, dear,” her mother said softly.

  Karen began to cry and her mother moved around the table and put her arm around her shoulders. She hugged Karen gently.

  Karen stared straight ahead, her jaw clenched, recalling what Robbie had done.

  “Hurt me? That’s an understatement. I’ve told you what happened.”

  Her mother nodded. “Some of it. You said the two of you were going to dinner one Friday night. He called to cancel when you reached home, said something had come up at work. A crisis of some sort?”

  Karen dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “He asked if we could go out the next night instead. And I understood. Things do come up. I told him I’d miss him, but I’d see him on Saturday.” She took a deep breath. “So, Pam came over. About nine o’clock, we decided to make an ice cream run, double chocolate crunch.”

  “Your favorite,” her mother said softly.

  “Used to be…Anyway, we were driving home on East Bay Street, and we saw Robbie walking along the street with his arm around this…this little girl.”

  Her mother squeezed her shoulder. “You could see them?”

  Karen nodded. “Pam pulled over, and we were only about thirty feet away. It was dark and we were in Pam’s car, so he didn’t notice me, but he was under a streetlight and I had a clear view of them. I swear she didn’t look older than fifteen, except for the makeup and the dyed black hair.” She shivered.

  “He had this smirk on his face that just begged to be slapped off…I grabbed my cellphone, dialed his number…He was incredible. ‘Still at work,’ he said. ‘Looks like we’re going to pull an all-nighter.’ Humph,” Karen snorted.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  “Anyway you should have seen his expression change when I told him where he was, what the little slut was wearing, and that he should take his hand off her bottom. He reminded me of a bobblehead as he swung around in every direction, trying to find me.” Karen smiled grimly, almost chuckling despite herself.

  “Oh, sweetheart…”

  “Pam revved her engine and I told him to go to hell. She left rubber on the road as she pulled out.”

  Karen looked up at her mother. “He and I were talking about marriage, Mom. Should I have gone ahead? Married the bastard? Just because he could support me?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  Her mother squeezed her shoulder and stood quietly beside her for several minutes.

  Karen looked up at her. “Why should I believe that Mark Stuart is any different?”

  “Not all men are liars, sweetie.”

  “Remember Tommy Watson, the guy I dated in college? He went to Robinson, the men’s college down the road.”

  He mother nodded.

  “He said he loved me. What he really loved was my ability to edit his term papers. The man couldn’t write an intelligible sentence. When I ‘edited,’ I pretty much started from scratch. He lied to me and he lied to his professors.” She crossed her arms.

  “John Robertson. You don’t know him. He was the last man I went out with. He’s an acquaintance of Pam’s. He told me he was my age, twenty-five…He’s over thirty.”

  “Well, fudging on your age is not so bad…”

  “Right, it’s not important. So why lie about it? If he’s going to lie about something so silly, he’ll not think twice before lying when it’s important.”

  “Now, Karen…”

  “It says it in the Bible. If you’re unfaithful in small things, you’ll be unfaithful in large ones. It’s the same thing.” She let out a deep breath.

  “When he took me to dinner, before he told me his real age, John spent the evening telling all there was to know about the manufacture and sale of toilet tissue.” Karen giggled and her mother smiled. “I don’t suppose Mark Stuart can be any worse than John was.”

  “So you’ll go out with him?”

  Karen stared at the water in the pool as a breeze created ripples on the surface.

  “Three dates, Mother.” She looked up, catching her mother’s eye. “Three. And you’ll never, ever, do this to me again…Never.”

  ***

  Her tires screeched as Karen left her mother’s driveway. Reaching for her phone, she punched Pam’s number.

  “You won’t believe what my mother has done this time,” she exclaimed as Pam answered. “She picked out a man for me to marry.”

  Pam laughed. “I highly recommend having a husband. I mean, it’s after noon, and we’re just getting out of bed.” She giggled. “But why does your Mom think you need one?”

  In her mind, she reran their con
versation. What reasons had her mother given her? Why did she need a husband?

  “Same old stuff.” Karen pulled onto the highway’s entrance ramp. “I’m lonely, apparently. Right. I’m weary of sitting in front of the television set by myself, so I should find someone who will argue about which channel to watch.”

  “Marriage will certainly accomplish that.” Pam laughed again.

  “Money. That was her next reason. I’m tired of a nineteen-inch set, so I should look for someone who can afford a fifty-eight inch HD.”

  “Money is nice.”

  “Great reasons to get married.” Karen swerved to avoid a car poking along, barely traveling the minimum speed. “Someone to keep you company and pay your bills.”

  “Someone to keep you warm at night. Someone to hold you, and kiss you, and…”

  Karen tore down the highway toward town, ignoring Pam’s teasing. Since her wedding, Pam seemed to have a one-track mind.

  “Oh, and he must be appropriate. Whatever that means. A successful used-car salesman from across the river won’t cut it.”

  “Tell me she picked a guy who is good looking.”

  Karen dimly remembered Mark from high school, tall, with brown hair and blue eyes, good looking, bright, talkative, with a ready smile and an easy laugh. If he was still single, that must have truly been one explosive breakup.

  “I guess. I haven’t seen him in years, but would you believe Mom gave him photographs of me? Jogging in Spandex is horrendous but flashing my bikini pics apparently is not.”

  “She must be serious about this. Are you going to see him?”

  All I want is someone with whom I can fall in love, Karen thought. Someone who will tell me the truth. Is that too much to ask? She shook her head sadly.

  After Robbie, she had been unable—unwilling, at least—to trust any man. She had not dated the same guy twice in over a year. The year before, she had not dated at all. She was tired of being alone and the dates were coming less frequently than they had in the past. Most guys she knew were married. The unmarried men, well, she’d dated almost all of them and had refused their requests for second dates. Unless the white knight did gallop past, she had nowhere else to look, so why not give Mark Stuart a try?

  Karen sighed. “I agreed to three dates, just to get her to be quiet. I can make it through one date, all three I suppose, but Mom is going to be disappointed.”

  Pool Party

  Karen gasped as she stepped from the air-conditioned changing room onto the beach club’s sunbaked deck. The sun’s rays seemed to converge on her as if someone had focused them through a magnifying glass. The heat engulfed her body, and the humidity made her feel as if she lay in bed under a wet blanket.

  Although she had lived near Charleston her entire life, she irrationally expected the temperature to be cooler in September than it had been in August. She suspected her surprise stemmed from having attended college in Virginia. September in the mountains of Virginia was a different animal from September on the Carolina coast.

  She placed her towel and beach bag on a recliner and paused to look past the pool on the lower deck, across the sand dunes, to the beach. The tide was almost high and several guys were surfing. She watched as one of them caught a wave, riding it most of the way in before tipping off into the shallow water, soaking himself completely, then rising from the water and pumping his fist into the air with a shout of triumph.

  She could imagine the cool ocean washing over her body. Perhaps she would walk down to the beach in a few minutes, stroll along the sand, and play in the surf, jumping over waves, riding a boogie board, and immersing herself in the water.

  Karen slipped off her t-shirt, rubbed lotion over her body, and sat on the recliner. She looked at the bottle of lotion. SPF twelve. Her mother insisted she used sun block, but Karen saw no point lying in the sun if there was absolutely no chance she would tan. A lotion with minimal protection was their compromise.

  She sighed. Why did she allow her mother to manipulate her?

  Using sun lotion was not so bad, but how had she allowed her mother to extract a promise that she would go out with Mark Stuart, not once, but three times?

  She supposed it would not be too bad. She liked his sister, Emily, so, surely, Mark was a nice guy. At the least, since she knew Emily, he would likely behave.

  He was good looking too. She’d found his picture on the college’s website. After all, if he had seen photographs of her…

  She chuckled. In addition to the formal pictures of the faculty, someone in the math department had posted photographs taken at their spring picnic, and she had seen Mark in his bathing suit, just as he had seen her. She hoped she had looked as good to him as he had to her.

  She stretched out on the recliner. As she started to close her eyes, her head jerked up as she spied Mark on the lower deck, beside the pool. Her mother had told her he might be at the club this afternoon, and had suggested they could meet.

  “Just talk to him for a few minutes,” she had begged. “Get to know him a little so you won’t be anxious when you date.”

  He was standing near the bar, talking with a tall blond woman. Mark looked just as he had in high school, only a bit older.

  Karen sat up and watched. The woman was nearly popping out of the top of her swimsuit, and as she talked, she rubbed Mark’s arm and smiled seductively, her laughter rising over the noises made by the other thirty or so people gathered around the pool on the hot September afternoon.

  To a casual observer, Mark seemed to be paying attention to the blonde, hanging on every word, but Karen, watching closely, could see that his eyes were focused across the sand dune, toward the beach. He nodded every so often, but he seldom spoke, and his arms were loosely crossed over his chest.

  After a while, she could see Mark speaking and, a moment later, the woman stalked away. Mark turned to the bar and ordered another drink.

  Karen was thinking of strolling over to introduce herself, when Emily Stuart plopped onto the end of the recliner, almost pushing Karen onto the concrete floor.

  “Sister-to-be,” she exclaimed, causing several people to turn and look. “How is everything going?”

  “Shush.” Karen put a finger to her lips. “Not so loudly, Em.”

  “Not ready to go public, are we?’ Emily smiled. “Sorry.” She raised her hand as if taking an oath. “Mum’s the word…Sis.”

  “I am not marrying your brother.”

  “Not what I hear.” Emily tossed her head, flipping her long black hair out of her face. “Word is that our moms have it all worked out. Three dates, engagement…a wedding this time next year.” She wrinkled her nose. “Hold out for late October. It’s not becoming for a bride to perspire.” She laughed.

  “They’re inside now, conspiring.” She motioned toward the club’s dining room. “As I left the table, your mom was saying that she needed to go ahead and reserve the church and that you could check on caterers next week and…”

  Karen sighed. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  Emily paused, a serious expression on her face, then she laughed. “I am exaggerating, but the marriage does seem to be a foregone conclusion if you listen to them.”

  “How could that be?” Karen exclaimed. “Until I spotted your brother two minutes ago as I lay down, it had been over ten years since I had set eyes on him. I was a gawky freshman in high school and he was a lordly senior who barely acknowledged my existence. How could they possibly…” She frowned, unable to fathom the workings of their mothers’ minds.

  “Actually, my lordly senior of a brother thought you were rather cute, as I recall.”

  “Well, he never said anything. He never asked me out…”

  “Of course not. You were my friend. You surely remember The Code, don’t you?” She shook her finger, emphasizing each word. “Never date your sister’s friend.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know your brother. I agreed to three dates to get Mom off my back, and I’ll wager he d
id the same thing for the same reason.”

  “Maybe,” Emily said, “but you know our mothers. Once they set their minds to something…” She laughed. “I’m teasing you, but Mark is a really nice guy—for a brother—and you won’t be able to help liking him. In any case, I’ve been commissioned to reintroduce the two of you. Are you ready to meet your future?”

  Karen raised her hands in surrender. “Why not? Now is as good a time as any.”

  She slipped on her t-shirt and followed Emily to the lower deck. Mark was reclining against the bar, scanning the crowd.

  Karen wondered if he was looking for her…ready to run if he recognized the little girl he once knew.

  “Mark,” Emily called, raising her hand to attract his attention. Mark looked up, returned her wave, and stepped away from the bar to hug her.

  “How’s my favorite brother been getting along?”

  “Your only brother has been getting along fine, working hard, keeping his nose clean.”

  “Pity. Sounds boring.” Emily gave Mark a big smile to show she was teasing.

  “You’re impossible, Em.” Mark shook his head.

  “Mark, this is Karen Wingate. You might remember her from high school.” An impish grin crossed her face. “She’s going to be my—”

  “Hi, Mark.” Karen held out her hand as Emily chuckled.

  He took her hand and his eyes dilated in recognition. “Five-two, long hair, and braces. You’ve changed. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled, but Karen noted it was a smile of politeness, rather than one of pleasure. “I was told you’d likely be here this afternoon, but I would never have recognized you. May I get you something to drink?”

  “Nothing for me,” Emily said. “Daniel will be here in a couple of minutes.” She rolled her eyes. “My fiancé is running a bit behind, as usual, and besides, you two need the opportunity to get reacquainted.” She popped Mark on the shoulder. “I’ll leave the two of you alone, but you be nice to this girl. We’re all counting on you.”

  As Emily walked away, Mark looked down, his face red.

  “Excuse Emily. She doesn’t always know when not to say what she thinks.”