Matt went at once. Since Bill had sat down, he had been diligently going through the website for Donna’s hair salon, searching for pictures of her. He pointed out her fetching face and profile to Matt, who leaned eagerly over Bill’s shoulder, looking at his monitor. “See what I see?” Bill asked, making an hourglass figure in the air with his hands. “Are those curves or what?”
Matt nodded, his eyes aglow. “Mmmmm. Nice.”
Since he had discovered the story behind the cupcakes, there was no need to whisper any longer. He stood up and loudly addressed the rest, “Anyone want to see who Bill is marrying?”
Vehemently and repeatedly, Bill denied he was marrying anyone, but it was too late to convince his coworkers. Debbie, Claire, and even Katie rushed to his desk, talking all at once, “Who is she? Where did you meet her? What does she do? How long have you known her? Is she pretty? Oh, she is good-looking. Lucky you. Now tell us everything.”
Surrounded and bombarded with questions, Bill, who was tickled to his toes with Donna and confident of their future, decided that the easiest truth to tell his coworkers was that no definite wedding plans had been made yet.
Chapter 28
Two days before Saturday, Stan arranged to meet Bill for lunch in Midtown with the intention of talking some sense into him about Donna. Stan wanted Bill to apologize to Helen for his rude words in the social hall and take her out on a date. Donna, Stan planned to say, was another of his pipe dreams, while Helen was attractive, intelligent, and considerate. She was a long-time acquaintance, he would emphasize, who was visibly, seriously interested in him. As his friend, Stan would command him to wake up.
This time, they went to an Indian buffet restaurant that a coworker of Stan’s had recommended. Bill had assented to this choice, because Stan had assured him that it would be inexpensive. When Stan arrived at the place, however, he found Bill reading the menu posted outside with a worried look. After they exchanged a few pleasantries, as they usually did, about how decrepit and near death the other appeared, Bill broached the subject of his real concern.
“The prices are kind of high,” he complained.
“It’s only three more dollars than the Chinese buffet we went to last time,” countered Stan, not considering the difference that three dollars make to a man of Bill’s economical views.
“I spent a lot on cupcakes this morning,” griped Bill. “And it doesn’t seem like much food. I saw the plates people have inside. The Chinese place piled more on.”
“If you want to go to the same place...” answered Stan, becoming impatient, since Bill was acting more shamelessly cheap than usual.
“No, no, let’s eat here,” Bill interjected. “If you pay this time, I’ll pay next time when we go back to the Chinese buffet. How does that sound?”
Since Stan was never going to argue with Bill for the distinction of being an equal or greater cheapskate, he agreed to Bill’s suggestion, and they walked inside.
When they had sat down with their trays to eat, Stan immediately launched into the speech he had thought about, while Bill forked food into his face. Stan told him how impressed he had been by Helen, how good-looking she was, how much she seemed to desire him.
“Forget about her,” Bill broke in. “I’m not talking with her again. Leaving me stranded at church was a mean trick. Here’s something for you to appreciate. What do you think about this? Does she have curves or what?” He handed Stan a picture, which he had printed from the Internet.
“Yeah, she has some round spots,” Stan admitted grudgingly, looking at the picture.
“That’s Donna,” crowed Bill. “She’s something to remember. That’s one ski course I want to slide all over.”
As Stan gave the picture back, he joked in return, “Probably won’t be on your feet for long.”
“I’d keep falling and falling, every time I got up,” answered Bill with glee, running with the metaphor. “But I’d get up again and again and go at it.”
“Are you seeing her before the barbecue?” asked Stan, trying to determine the extent of Bill’s acquaintance with her.
“She’s too busy.”
“Find out any more about her?”
“She has a BMW.”
“Nice,” said Stan. “And you’re driving her to the barbecue in your rusting jalopy?”
“No. She’s driving. I told her my car broke down again, and I ordered an Audi...”
“You bought an Audi?” Stan was astounded.
“Of course not. Not yet. If we have