The Widows of Sea Trail-Vivienne of Sugar Sands

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  By the time I hooked up with Tess and Cat at the gazebo, I was sullen and less in the mood for exercise than I normally was, which is saying a lot.

  “It’s too damn cold to be out here!” I mumbled as I stomped my feet on the wooden walkway and rubbed my hands.

  “It’s nice, look there are people ahead of us in shorts,” Tessa said as we came off the ramp and made our way on to the beach.

  “Just because they’re stupid, does that mean we have to join them? When the Pilates class started coming off the beach because of the cold weather, I told you it was time for us to can it. I can go to the Pink Palace and use the treadmill.”

  “Yes, you could. But you won’t. As evidenced by the fact that you never have,” Cat said.

  “Mmmph!” I barreled ahead, arms pumping. I wanted this over with.

  Tessa came up alongside me. “Cat’s right, you never have. But if you want to go there we can meet you there just as easily as meeting you here. Easier in fact, as there’s no bridge to worry about. Then we’ll all be nice and warm while we watch you crank out three miles if that’s what you’d like.”

  “Oh that would be swell, two skinny trainers with their candidate for biggest loser being flogged to finish the last quarter mile.”

  “You’re hardly a candidate for the biggest loser. I’m thinking you’ve already lost close to fifteen pounds. You can’t have more than fifteen more to go at best.”

  “I’ve lost eleven so far, so I’m nineteen away from getting my mornings back.”

  “Actually, I’m having a great time,” Cat said, “I think even after you’ve lost the weight we should continue these daily walks.”

  “Not on your life! Besides, according to your plan, I’ll be too busy exercising in bed every morning with Mr. Righton-top-of-me to do these annoying little walks with you two fanatics.”

  “Well . . . that is the plan,” Cat said.

  “And speaking of which, have you rehearsed anything?” Tessa had caught back up with us. For someone with the longest legs, she sure was a pokey walker. I looked down at her hands and saw she had picked up a few sand dollars. Well, that explained it. For me this was a grueling hike, for them it was . . . well, it was a walk on the beach.

  “Rehearsed?” I stopped and spun on Tess. “What the hell do you mean by that? Of course I haven’t rehearsed, is this a play? Must I know Act I Scene I?”

  “Well, kinda. If he says this, you need to say that. If he asks this, you need to answer so-and-so . . .”

  “You are aware that we’re talking about a man who if this harebrained scheme of yours works could end up being my husband? Am I supposed to live by a script the rest of my life?”

  “No. You just need to get him to the point where he’s so enamored by talking with you that he asks to see you. Once he sees you, it’s a lock.”

  That was the sweetest thing Tess had ever said to me. My confidence instantly soared and I smiled. Yeah, maybe I could actually do this, talk to this guy and have some fun with this. I was nowhere near as optimistic as Tess, but it did my heart good to know she had so much faith in me.

  “Okay, coach me while we walk, maybe some of it will sink in and I’ll actually remember it while I’m on the phone with him. And maybe, just for today mind you, we could go all the way to the jetty. I think I’m getting a second wind.”

  Both women looked at me as if suddenly an imposter had taken over my body, and in fact, maybe one had. I suddenly felt younger and more energetic. And in that peculiar way a man has of setting a woman’s heart to pitter-pattering, even a man she’s yet to meet, I felt my spirits lift and push me forward.

  Tessa and Cat were bantering back and forth telling me what to say (you like to watch sports on TV, golf is the bomb, can’t wait for the NBA playoffs), what not to say (I love to spend the whole day at the mall or walking around craft fairs). But I was only half listening because I already knew what I was going to say. I was going to do the one sure fire thing to make a man like you enough to ask for more. I was going to get him to talk about himself.

  We tapped the rocks with our tennis shoes, spun and made the return trip. All the while I listened to my two best friends giving me advice and trying to cheer me. It was wonderful to have such loyal and devoted friends. We shared sweaty hugs at the pier and then each of us made our way to our cars. Mine was Dale’s old pickup truck. I hadn’t been able to part with it as that damned truck had been such a big part of him. After four years it still smelled like him, an odd mixture of cigar smoke, Maple Nut Goodies, and sweaty flannel shirts. Every once in a while when I sensed the cigar odor fading, I would go to his humidor, take out a cigar and sit in the truck while it sat in the garage. I would smoke it in the cab until it had “refreshed” that nostalgic smell that reminded me so poignantly of my beloved husband. I felt unfaithful that I was even contemplating cheating on him with this bachelor who was in search of a wife so late in life.

  I went home to a shower and pinto beans and cheddar cheese slices for breakfast. Then I dolled myself up as if going to a ball because I needed all the confidence I could muster for this phone call.

  Chapter Three

  Résumé for a date The phone rang promptly at eleven and with my heart doing double time I managed to answer it.

  “Uh, hello?”

  “Vivienne?”

  “Yes.”

  “Vivienne, this is Philip Camden, the lunatic who thought he could find a wife by hiring a professional matchmaker.”

  “So this isn’t working out for you?”

  “To tell you the truth, no. I’m hoping you’ll be the exception and make all this worthwhile though.”

  “I saw a picture of you when my friends Googled you. I wouldn’t have thought a man who looks as you do would have any trouble finding a wife.”

  “I don’t want to be like Hugh Hefner—82 years-old with a 28-year-old girlfriend who’s trying to push her agenda of the kids and the family thing. Would you believe women are actually lying and saying they’re older than they actually are to satisfy the age requirement?”

  “Well that’s a first. But to be honest with you, I have no idea if I lied to you or not.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I didn’t actually send in the application that was downloaded from the matchmaker’s website, my very good friends did it for me.”

  He picked up on the inflection in my voice, I could tell. “Ah, and I gather you’re not very happy about that?”

  “I wasn’t at first, but then I saw your picture. You’re kinda like dream candy for the senior set. I wouldn’t mind being across the table from those deep blue eyes and the rest of the package.”

  “Dinner table or breakfast table?”

  “You seem to be calling the shots here, aren’t ya?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am at that. But don’t fault me here, I’m just trying to find the whole package: a lovely woman, with brains, who has a good sense of humor, and as a bonus, it would be nice if she had gobs of money—to level the playing field.”

  “Why does she need to have money as long as you do?”

  “If she does, it just makes it easy for me to know for sure that she’s interested in me, and not just my money.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I’m not in your league in that department, so I’m not the package deal you’re looking for, not by any stretch of the imagination. I cut and download coupons, shop at Belk on Senior Day, and never pass a yard sale without craning my neck.”

  He chuckled. “Hey, no problem. I figured it was time to give up on that caveat anyway. Seems the women my age with brains and money, have a man half my age carrying their purse. As long as I can get the rest of the package, I think I’ll be more than satisfied. So far, no one’s been crass enough to say they’re only interested in my money, but somehow I suspect that you are not.”

  “Well I wasn’t looking for a man with money, but I certainly wouldn’t kick you out of bed because of your stock portfolio.”

  He laughed and
a moment later sobered and asked, “So

  Jacqueline DeGroot

  what are you looking for in this man you’re hoping to find?” Remembering I was supposed to keep turning the conversation back to him, I balked for a second then decided it couldn’t hurt to answer his question. Two could play this matchmaking game.

  “I would like someone I can trust to be there no matter what cards life deals us. Someone I can talk to, laugh with, snuggle up to at night. Someone I can cook for, stare dreamily into a fire with, and someone who, when he touches me, makes my heart speed up and my belly clench. And I want him to be unfailingly honest. I can’t abide a man who would lie to me . . . about anything.”

  “I like you, Vivienne. I have a board meeting in ten minutes and I can hear my staff lining up outside my door. May I call again, say, later tonight?”

  “Sure. But don’t say you’re going to call if you’re not. I’m too old for those juvenile games.”

  “I will call. Say eight?”

  “Eight would be fine.”

  “Great! I’ll talk to you then.”

  I waited until I heard the click on his end, then I placed

  the phone back in its cradle. I could hear people lining up outside my door, too. I got up, walked to the front door and opened it. Both Cat and Tessa were bent over, standing with their heads close to where the door handle had just been.

  “Come on in, didn’t your mommas tell you it was impolite to eavesdrop?”

  “Yeah, but so what? What happened, what’d he say?”

  “He said he’s going to call me back tonight, he had a meeting coming up in a few minutes. I guess he hadn’t planned on liking me and hadn’t allowed enough time for us to talk.”

  “Wow,” whispered Cat. “He likes you.”

  “At least enough to get me to round two in the phone interview part.”

  “That’s awesome, Viv,” Tessa said, “awesome. I really never thought you’d get this far.”

  “Oh, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just that when most men are hell bent on getting something specific, like a really nice woman for instance, they generally end up getting just the opposite. This man’s looking for someone just like you, and now he’s found her and actually appreciates that. This is a rare man indeed.”

  “He wanted me to be rich so he wouldn’t have to worry if I’m after his money.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Pretty much that a man with money would be nice; I’ve absolutely no qualms against it.”

  We all laughed.

  “Well now that that’s out of the way, let’s go celebrate, how about Inlet View for lunch?”

  “Can’t, still dieting. My lunch is going to be shrimp with cocktail sauce and a pear.”

  “Forgot, when’s your next free day?”

  “Not until next Tuesday. You two go, I’ll be fine. I’ve gotta study for the next phone call anyway.”

  “Just how are you going to do that?”

  “Some sleep would help. Last night all I dreamed about was that phone call. Then I have some bills I have to sit down and pay. Once I empty out my checkbook, I’ll appreciate him and his money even more.”

  “Okay, we’ll let you take a nap and pay your bills, but we want to hear from you as soon as you get off the phone tonight. We want to know everything.”

  “What if we talk all night?”

  “Then you’d better take notes.”

  I closed the door on themand suddenly feeling exhausted, actually went and took a nice long nap.

  Chapter Four

  Waiting for the call When the phone rang exactly at eight, I grabbed the remote and clicked off the power to the TVand smiled. I had no idea what I’d been watching for the past two hours. On to the elimination round.

  “Hello!” I tried to sound cheerful but not eager, and wasn’t sure if I’d pulled it off or not.

  “Hi.”

  I was already enamored by his low sultry voice. The way he drew out the word was oh so charming.

  “How was your meeting?”

  “Dull, nothing but sales projections, budgets, tedious number crunching, flagrant mewling, and some serious kowtowing. I’m anxious to drop this chairmanship into someone else’s lap soon. Real soon.”

  “Quitting?”

  “Selling off some stuff and starting the retirement process, consolidating here and there, bringing up valued employees to take over, that kind of thing.”

  “I noticed that there was no condition in this little competitionfor your affection that the winner be required to relocate. You don’t need your new wife to join you in Charlotte?”

  “No, not really. Alittle time would have to be spent here, but I’m trying to tidy things up on my end so I can retire and enjoy time with my new bride anywhere we have a mind to be.”

  “Ah ha, I see. So you’re planning a long honeymoon?”

  “I might. Is there anyplace in particular you’d like to go?”

  “Well, should I be the chosen one, I kind of favor Hawaii, or maybe Italy. Greece would be another place on my list, too.”

  “All wonderful places, I’d be happy to return to any of them, or all three.”

  “You do swing your money around, don’t you?”

  He laughed at that. “Touché.”

  “So, are you expecting this ‘relationship’ to end up in a love match?”

  There was silence for several seconds. Then finally, “No, no I’m not. If it happens that would be wonderful, but I’m certainly not counting on that. Not counting on that at all. Not sure I actually believe in love at this stage in life if truth be told.”

  “So this is all to be very practical and emotionless?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. We have to like each other. And I mean really like each other.”

  “Are you referring to the adventurous sex clause?”

  “C’mon, you and I know that people who hardly even know each other have sex all the time. It’s not necessary to love someone to have good sex, or even to like them for that matter. Trust me; I know this to be fact. We just need chemistry. You smell me, I smell you, and we take it from there.”

  “Hmmm . . . interesting. So, have you ever been in love Mr. Camden?”

  “Philip. We’re talking about the possibility of getting married; we should be on a first name basis. And yes. Yes I was, once, a long, long time ago.”

  “Would you tell me about it?”

  “I might some day, when I get to know you better. If I told you my story now, it would ruin any chance I’d have with you, so that wouldn’t be wise on my part.”

  “You screwed it up?”

  “Understatement of the century. But let’s leave it at that for now. Tell me about this stripper thing I see on your application. It says you worked as a stripper to get through college. This true?”

  I snorted then laughed. “Well maybe, in a way. My girlfriends embellished it a bit.”

  “Care to explain?”

  I chuckled, “Sure, why not. I’m not ashamed of it. Hell I wish I looked like that now. I would run right down to Thee Dollhouse tonight and sign up if I did.”

  “Ah, do I detect a little tendency toward exhibitionism?” there was a teasing merriment in his tone and I reveled in it.

  “Could be some now, there wasn’t then. I just plain needed the money.”

  “Well, why don’t we each pour a glass of wine and settle in for your story?”

  “I’m on my way to the kitchen to get some now, but I would really like to talk about you instead of me.”

  “Next time. Tonight, I’m staring at ten applications that I have to whittle down to five, so I’d really like to hear about the part on yours that I zeroed in on and highlighted on my very first pass through these things. I know this isn’t a very romantic way to do all this, but I’m paying the woman who’s doing all this a fortune, so I really should take her advice.”

  Crap. So much for my game plan of gettin
g him to talk about himself and thus crediting me with being a wonderful listener instead of one of those women who’s always me, me, me-ing. I took a deep breath, then a sip of wine, and started the saga.

  “It was my senior year, I was at the University of Maryland and I was desperate to get my business degree. My mom scared my dad away while I was in high school, so he was no help in the money department, and she could hardly take care of herself. She argued with the landlord every month about the rent, and was always coming to me to get money to have the power turned back on.”

  “Wait, wait . . . scared off your dad?”

  “Uh, my mom thinks she’s a witch. And she is most definitely that, according to my dad, only he substitutes a ‘b’ for the ‘w’ most of the time. She blames my dad for not going along with her attempts at magic, says they would have been rich and powerful if he had, but that’s another story for another time. Let’s stick to this theme, alright?”

  “Suuure.” I could tell by his hesitation that he was thinking about lifting my application from the top of the pile and putting it into the shredder.

  “Anyway, I was very low on funds and although I loved working at the donut shop on Route 1, I just wasn’t clearing enough to pay for tuition for my last semester. Meanwhile, my roommate Gina, was raking it in at a topless club in Beltsville. When she mentioned that a girl had quit to go to Vegas, I asked her if she thought they would hire me. She did that eyebrow thing at my chest and said, ‘If what you’re flauntin’under there is for real girl, they’d hire you in a New York minute.’ Well even though we’d been roommates for over a year, we’d never seen each other naked, so I blushed.

  “ ‘Girl,” she said, ‘if you’re going to go all red in the face in front of me, and your top’s still on, you’re never gonna be able to wag your titties in front of all the Johns.’In a show of defiance, I whipped off my shirt and unhooked my bra and then stood letting my breasts jut right out into her face. The next thing I knew she was marching me into her boss’office and he was ‘auditioning’ me. I got the job and was told to show up on Friday night. So on Thursday, I quit my job at the donut shop and said good-bye to all my regulars.