Chapter 3: Compromise

Eric Stewart did not have much excitement in his life. He worked in the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office, which prosecuted about half the crimes which went to trial in the state of Illinois. Some of his colleagues prosecuted murderers, drug dealers, or perpetrators of intricate frauds. Eric was one of the guys who prosecuted traffic cases.

He sang in the choir at Aldersgate, and the former choir director had made a habit of asking every possible singer in the choir to sing a solo at least once a year. She had never asked Eric for a solo, and he couldn’t blame her.

He had gone on dates in high school and college. (The sex ratio at Kent College of Law was too unbalanced to leave any woman students who had to settle for Eric.) After figuring out the system after law school, he’d had dates and even two affairs. What he’d never had was a romance. Girls had found him boring; women found him boring; he, when he was honest with himself like now, found himself boring. And the women who would give him more than a passing glance tended to be boring, too.

Actually, interesting women were willing to be friends with him, as long as the friendship was totally platonic. Carolyn Pierce, for instance, was pretty, buxom, bright enough to have earned a Ph. D., and sexy enough to marry a guy whom she claimed had no good qualities outside of bed. Carolyn was enough of a friend to have asked him to be godfather to Paul, one of her twins.

And Carolyn had introduced him to Candy. Candy was a student of Carolyn’s. What was more important was that Candy was a great beauty. And Candy needed help he could give. Suddenly, Eric’s life wasn’t boring any more. Unfortunately, the reason Candy needed his help was that she had been raped, and he could introduce her to the woman in the State’s Attorney’s Office who ran the section dealing with rape. So the first beautiful woman to know he was alive was now afraid of men. Carolyn had brought her to church to get some support from some young women, and he had tried to prolong the acquaintance by offering her rides. She, however, hadn’t come back after two visits.

1979 was drawing to a close, it was already December 15th. The calendar would say that he had lived 30 years next March 29th. The truth was, however, that he hadn’t lived at all.

Then the phone rang.

“Eric Stewart speaking.”

“Mr. Stewart, this is Candy.” It was, and his week was looking better already.

“Hello, Candy. Nice of you to call. Is there something I can do for you?” Please say yes. If, on the other hand, you merely called to chat that would be great, too.

“I know it’s late.”

“Not at all. I don’t go to bed for hours yet.” And he would be happy to have her wake him up, but he shouldn’t come on too strong. He should keep this light.

“Well, it isn’t late to talk, but it’s late to ask for a ride to church.” Not really, though had she called earlier he wouldn’t have been in the funk he was in this evening.

“Not too late. Your place? I mean pick you up at your place? Let’s see, church starts at 11:00. I don’t like the driving conditions; let’s say half an hour. Leave your place at 10:30. Is that okay with you?’

“That would be fine.”

“Is there anything else you want me to do? I mean come in and meet your folks?” Would they want to know who their daughter was driving off with? But he was thinking of high-school rules, and Candy was a college student. His college dates hadn’t lived at home.

“No. Can you be in front of the door and still in your car at 10:30?”

“Sure.” Though he might block the street if there were no parking spaces. “I might have to circle the block, but I’ll be there within two or three minutes of the time you set.”

“That would be marvelous.”

Well what else could he do for her? “Does Claire know you’re coming?”

“No.”

“Would you like her to know? Want me to call her?”

“Could you?”

“I can try. Who were the others?”

“Gwen and Joan.”

“Well, I’ll try for them. I can’t place Gwen.”

“Thank you very much.”

“You’re quite welcome, Candy. In front of your house at 10:30 tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” He would see her again. And he was useful to her.

It was Saturday night. Would grad students be at home, or would they be out on dates? He looked through the church directory, circling Claire’s and Joan’s names. If Candy wanted them, he might have to call them again. The only Gwen in the directory was a child in a family he knew vaguely. This was not the girl he had seen with Candy, not by more than a decade.

Claire was home. She was already planning on church, since this would be coffee hour. She would be glad to sit with Candy.

“Does Carolyn want me to take her out to lunch again?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll drive her back after church.” And, if Candy was willing, he’d buy her lunch, too.

He left a message for Joan that Candy would be in church and to call him back however late. Despite his resolve, he didn’t wake up for Joan’s call. She left a message on his machine that she would try.

He did wake up to his alarm. He usually didn’t set it for Sundays. He left the apartment more than two hours after he did on weekdays, and usually woke up in plenty of time without an alarm. This, however, was an important day; he couldn’t take the risk. In the shower, he found himself thinking of Candy. He thought about her so much that he masturbated. The way his thoughts were going had to be controlled. Women knew when you wanted them sexually. Usually, they took that as a compliment so long as you weren’t blatant about it. Candy, however, was understandably nervous about men’s desires. He’d taken a back seat to other guys for years because girls thought that he was dull. With Candy, his advantage was that he was safe -- which was only another way of saying dull.

Still, it was an advantage.

He let the mist from the shower dry off the mirror before he shaved carefully. He put on aftershave before eating breakfast and brushed his teeth carefully afterwards. He listened to the radio until 9:30, and then dressed in his best suit. He’d bought a red ‘power tie’ before discovering that it didn’t really make him seem powerful. He wore that. He considered his overcoat, but with his luck somebody at church would ask why he was dressing fancy. He went out to start his car at 9:50. He got to Candy’s house in plenty of time.

He was a little worried that she would get cold feet, but the third time he circled the block, she was in front. It wasn’t quite 10:30 yet. He stopped, and she got in before he could come around to open the door. Well, it was cold out there.

Then he was driving her, and they had plenty of time. That was one responsibility fulfilled but she had asked another of him.

“Claire said ‘yes,’” he reported. “Joan said ‘maybe.’” That was the information she wanted. There might be more information she needed. “Look, there is something I should warn you about. After service on third Sundays, the church holds what we call a Coffee Hour. There is coffee, something to eat.” That sounded misleading. “(Not a meal, maybe donuts), and conversation. You can decide to deal with the coffee hour or not. Probably your friends will introduce you to some others of your age if you do. You can make the decision at the end of service. Tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”

“I don’t know.” And how could she know? He’d just sprung it on her.

“Well, as I said, you have to decide at the end. You want to go, and we’ll go.”

“You’re so kind, Mr. Stewart.” Not as kind as he’d like to be, and he definitely didn’t want to be ‘Mr. Stewart.’ The twins called him Eric. Why couldn’t this beautiful adult?

“Well, if you want to return the kindness, call me Eric.”

“Thanks., Eric.”

“You’ll find that Aldersgate doesn’t deal much in last names. I’ll bet Claire doesn’t know mine.” He hoped she didn’t. He’d had to go through the directory looking for a ‘Claire’ and a ‘Joan.’

“I can let you out in front and go park,” he said when they got near the church, “or I can park, and we can walk back together.”

“I’d rather walk with you.” And he’d rather walk with her. Even though her preference was probably a reluctance to walk into a building where she might not know anybody in the congregation.

Claire was there, as she’d said she would be. She sat to Candy’s left and he sat to her right. If Candy sat closer to Claire, he’d had her company to himself in the car. The important things right then were for Candy to regard him as safe and to depend on him. She had Claire’s support because of him. When Joan came in, she took Candy’s right. Even so, the four of them were together in a row. If Candy got what she wanted in church, then she would call him for a ride to church.

Joan and Claire were a lot less permissive about coffee hour than he had been, and Candy agreed to attend. Well, that was all to the good. It would be more connections to Aldersgate, and he was her conduit to Aldersgate.

“Look,” he told Candy, “this is a time for you to meet your age group. It isn’t my age group. Why don’t we split up until you’re ready to go?”

When she had talked as much as she wanted with her table, she came over to his. He’d been conscious of her throughout the time, and he got up before she got there. He said goodbye and walked her to the door. Well, she wasn’t among strangers now, and the weather was still nasty.

“Why don’t you wait here, again?” She was agreeable, and he went and got the car. Again she reached it before he had her door open. “Claire’s a nice woman, isn’t she?” he asked when they were both inside and he had the car moving again.

“I think she’s wonderful.” Which, since he was Candy’s access to Claire, was very good to hear.

“Look, as I said, Coffee Hour isn’t really a meal. Shall we stop on the way for a real Sunday dinner?”

“You have been so kind, already.” He had enjoyed every minute of it, at least every minute since she’d come out of her door.

“Well, I’m a bachelor. I cook some meals, but not Sunday dinner. It isn’t as if I had a meal waiting for me at home. If you refuse to eat with me, I’ll just visit a restaurant after dropping you off. Solitary eating isn’t as dangerous as solitary drinking, but it’s rather sad. When I’m eating alone in a restaurant, I always think the other diners are looking over and saying, ‘Poor man; he doesn’t have any friends.’ Think of it this way, I saved you from a long bus ride, and you’ll save me from the pity of waitresses.”

“You’re a nice man. I’m sure you have many friends.”

“A few, but I’d rather be eating with you.” Careful! He was beginning to sound like a suitor instead of a nice man.

“Thank you, Eric, I’d be happy to eat with you.”

Perhaps her appetite had been cut back by the coffee hour. She didn’t eat much, and she refused dessert.

“Look,” she said, “I told some people I’d be there next week.” Now that was good to hear.

“Okay. Same time for pick-up? Earlier? I really don’t think later would leave any time for traffic jams.”

“I should have asked you before committing you.” No, she shouldn’t. She could commit him to anything. It would have been nice to hear about it earlier, as it would have been nice to have been asked for the ride this Sunday earlier, but only because he could have enjoyed the anticipation.

“Well, I can’t remember what I said precisely, but my understanding was that I was available any time you wanted to come.”

“And I kept you out of choir.” Yeah. He should have told somebody. He hadn’t thought of choir since she had called.

“You didn’t deprive them of much. Aside from a little sexual balance, I contribute very little to the choir.”

“But don’t you enjoy singing?”

“Yes, but I enjoy sitting with you much more.” And now he was starting to sound like a suitor again. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. And she had promised some new friends, friends whose phone numbers she probably didn’t have, that she would be in church next week. “Look,” he finally asked, “what is your easiest day? What day has the least schoolwork?” What school night would hamper her studying least if she went on a date?

“Well, I have fewer classes Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays ... But I have Physical Education Tuesday afternoon.” Monday night wouldn’t do, anyway, and Friday was probably too late if he was going to give her a ride Sunday. Okay. In for a penny in for a pound. Wednesday it was.

“So you have the least prep for Thursday. Would you be willing to have me take you out to dinner on Wednesday night?” She didn’t answer at all. The silence in the car was leaden.

“Nothing else is contingent on your answer,” he finally said. “I’ll still pick you up on Sunday morning. You want to think about it?”

“Yeah.” Now that was a fast answer. Was she afraid to give him a refusal in the car? She should never be afraid of him. But she would be afraid of men for a long while now. Anyway, he’d offered her time to think; he would give her time to think.

“Well, why don’t I call you tomorrow night? Will that be enough time for thinking about it? Really, I don’t need the decision before Wednesday, but my mother told me that inviting a girl for a date on one day’s notice was bad form.”

“Fine, call me Monday night.” After parking he started around, but she got out of her side before he reached it. She didn’t seem nervous, though, when he walked her to the door.

Well, he’d blown his chance. He’d moved too fast. Christmas Eve was coming up, and with it the Christmas Eve service. He should have waited a week and invited her to that service. Then he could have suggested taking her out for dinner before. Okay, that was one day’s warning, but it was around a church event, and she wanted to participate in church events.

Instead, he’d jumped ahead and scared her off. It turned out, though, that he hadn’t scared her off. He called when he said he would.

“Candy?” when he got her. “This is Eric Stewart.”

“Yes, Eric, how are you.” Well, at least he wasn’t ‘Mr. Stewart’ anymore.

“I’m fine -- better from your calling me by my first name. And, how are you?”

“I’m doing fine.”

“Have you decided about my invitation?”

“What do you have in mind specifically?” That she had decided to refuse he could accept. He might cry in secret, but he would understand. That she might accept was his hope. That she’d forgotten? That didn’t sound favorable, nor even likely.

“A meal together, another restaurant unless you have a particular liking for one of those we’ve eaten at together.”

“Dinner with you Wednesday night? Why, thank you. I’d be delighted. What time?” Okay! First, she had accepted. And, second, she had wanted a specific invitation, probably because she was being overheard.