Cheapskate in Love Read Online Free PDF

“Lets
hike Saturday. Yesterday was bad. Linda.”
    She’s crazy, Bill thought, just like his sister had said.
She must have the most severe form of schizophrenia, he swore, to be able to belittle
what had happened yesterday, as if she wasn’t responsible. And she must be
completely delusional to think that overnight he could forget what she had done
to him. Adamantly, he declared that he was surely not going to go hiking with
Linda on Saturday, nor any other day. Nothing and no one could convince him to
do that. Indeed, he was never going to speak to her again. Never ever was he
going to see her. He wasn’t crazy after all.
    With that rousing resolution that ignited every fiber in his
body and hardened his will into steel, or at least a more solid substance than
his usual, weak flesh, Bill was fully prepared to face another day. He deleted
Linda’s message. After checking to see if any chocolate remained in the box or
any watery scotch lingered in the glass, he went to shower and dress for work.

Chapter 4

 
 
    For lunch that day, Bill met Stan, a friend and former
coworker, at an inexpensive Chinese cafeteria in Midtown, which he had recently
discovered when he walked on a different street around his office. It was a
dingy-looking place from the outside that did not improve in appearance when
one entered. A few blurry photos of China and faded Chinese prints decorated
the walls. An assortment of used tables and chairs, too many for the space,
crowded the dining area. The entire place looked as if it needed a gut
renovation, or at least a thorough cleaning, but Bill was utterly delighted at
first sight, because a large sign in the window advertised a five-dollar, hot
buffet lunch. He smiled, transported with joy, at finding his new, favorite
dining spot. The fact that the cafeteria had a mostly Chinese and
Chinese-American clientele, which he could discern from outside, only added to
his belief that he had found a real deal, a bargain from Beijing buried in the
bowels of expensive Manhattan.
    It was only a short walk for both Bill and Stan from their
offices to the cafeteria. When they arrived, they shook hands outside the
place. As they almost always did when they met, they started trading old barbs
about how sick and near death the other looked. Joking and laughing, they hoped
in turn that the other would be able to hang on a few more months, even though
it didn’t seem likely. “Your tumor has metastasized too much,” they would tell
each other. “You look terrible.” Or one of them might say with mock concern,
“Buddy, I’m afraid there’s no miracle of medical science to help you now.
Whatever your illness is, it’s a killer. It’s been good knowing you.” Their
friendship was not of a sensitive, fawning nature.
    Stan was a physically imposing man in his forties, tall and broad-chested , who carried his extra bit of weight well. An
executive at a large company, he worked at a higher level than Bill had ever
attained and looked as if he did. Although balding, he was well-groomed and well-dressed. He wore a superfine, summer-weight, dark wool suit, white
shirt with cuff links, and a luxuriant silk tie. Externally, Stan did not
appear to be the sort of man who would maintain a friendship with Bill, who was
dressed in a final-sale polo shirt and chinos and toting his worn briefcase,
which he thought safer than leaving it in the office. But Stan had come from
modest roots and retained an open, generous personality. He enjoyed the frank,
joke-filled talks he could have with Bill, although he thought Bill dense and
inflexible at times. Stan actually lived near Bill on Long Island and would
have liked to travel on the train with him to and from work, but Bill was a
creature of habit and would not alter his earlier work routine to join Stan,
even though Stan was his closest friend. Since Stan was married with two young
children, his weekends were filled with family activities. Consequently, the
two saw each