Romantic Trapezoid. Victor L. Cahn
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said Dave. “‘Incisive, pellucid, and graceful.’”
He frowned at his own susceptibility and resumed packing.
“And how can I forget last March?” she continued. “When we headed out to UCLA for that symposium. You took on three of those pygmies nipping at your heels and swatted them away like flies.”
“Your metaphors are tangled.”
“Let’s just say that I felt shivers all over.” She paused. “And that night in the hotel . . . I felt shivers again.”
Dave stopped packing and looked at her.
She opened her eyes wide. “I don’t think there’s anything as arousing as a first-rate mind in action.”
This statement demanded response, so he moved behind her and spoke firmly. “I think you find plenty that’s arousing. Which is why I am leaving in a few minutes.”
As soon as he uttered those words, he recognized that he didn’t want to leave. But what choice did he have? At least if he had the gumption to carry out this threat, and if she missed him as he hoped she would, she’d have no choice but to ask him back.
Maybe.
On the other hand, if she didn’t miss him, or didn’t miss him enough, then she wouldn’t ask him.
On the third hand, if she didn’t miss him, then she would never marry him anyway, unless she was overcome by an urge that she had never manifested.
On yet another hand, if she did miss him, but didn’t feel obliged to call him, then . . . he couldn’t say.
Unable to coordinate more hands, Dave wandered back to his suitcase.
Melissa interrupted his ruminations. “What about our concert tickets? The Prague Philharmonic’s all Dvořák program? With the Cello Concerto.”
“We can still go.”
“But it won’t be the same. After it’s over, you’ll go your way. And I’ll have to come back here all by myself.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And what about the beach house next month? Is that out, too?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
He still didn’t want to lose that special engagement.
Melissa’s voice dropped. “Does that mean no more jello and whipped cream when we . . . you know.”
This suggestion tapped something inside him, and for the first time he responded with irritation. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding a suitable partner for that particular amusement.”
She sat up. “Is that what this is all about? A few friends?” “That’s part of it.”
“But who could possibly follow you?”
At this protestation, Dave ceased controlling himself. “Listen, you’ve got enough . . . I mean, there are guys . . . don’t tell me—”
“I think you’re misreading the situation.”
“Misreading—me? Listen, I’ve heard about so many men . . . do you have any idea . . . I . . . what about that construction worker?”
Melissa stood. “Harry? Good-natured, goofy Harry?”
“I only know him as ‘Harry.’”
“C’mon! He’s a just a big, friendly bear—”
“Don’t kid me.”
“Who happens to share my love of hockey.”
“And that’s all?”
“I don’t know what you imagine is happening—”
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t!”
Dave laughed with mild bitterness. “Then tell me about that medical technician! What about him?”
“Waldo? Little Waldo? Sweet, harmless little Waldo—”
“You spent a whole day and night in his lab!”
“I had a deadline! And that article on enzyme research turned out to be one of the best things I’ve ever done!”
“Hey!”
Bereft of arguments, Dave resorted to chopping the air, but this time he did so with more violence, and his passion took Melissa aback.
After a few seconds, she moved right next to him. “Isn’t there anything I can do to keep you here?”
Dave stared at her. “I think you know exactly what you can do. In fact, it’s something we can do together.”
“You’d better tell me.”
At last his moment had arrived.
“All right. I’ll tell you. You sit, and I’ll tell you as clearly as I can.”
“Good.”
She sat on the sofa, and he settled next to her. As they looked at each other, her eyes opened wide, offering nothing but trust.
Dave studied her skin: so soft, so pure. And those luscious lips. And that perfect nose, with just the slightest upward turn . . .
How could he leave such a woman?
“I’ve been hinting about this for a long time, but I gather I have to put it all right on the line. Just so there’s no confusion, no uncertainty. All right?”
“Go for it.”
Was she laughing? Maybe.
He took her hand, and she took his. Another trace of ridicule.
“I am ready for a commitment.” He enunciated clearly. “A permanent, 100%, lifetime commitment. Between you and me. Legal and binding, with a two-ring ceremony. Where you toss the bouquet, and everybody else throws rice, and we return the gifts. That’s what I want. The works. The whole shebang. The complete fairy tale.”
As he paused, her eyes, still wide, remained focused on him.
“Now,” he continued, “if you don’t want that, I understand. But that’s what I want. That’s what I need. I also need an answer, and I’ll accept whatever you say without questions.”
He paused for his peroration. “In short, and in conclusion, I am proposing marriage. I am ready for us to build a life together. Are you?”
As he looked directly at her, she returned his gaze.
“No.”
Dave stared. “Why not?”
“You said no questions.”
“Fine!” Dave pushed himself up and strode to the suitcase. “That’s it. I know what to do.” He rearranged some clothes.
Melissa followed him. “But don’t you see? My career is just taking off.”
“I understand.”
“Three articles this month. With more to follow.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“I’m really breaking through!”
Dave turned to her. “And if you’re married to me, all that breaking through will stop?”
“It won’t be the same.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have to be free to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“And if you’re married, you won’t be free?”
“It won’t be the same!”
“Fine.” He retrieved the last of his clothes from