As we got
into her car, I asked, "So,
Victoria, are you coming to the Pistachio Club tomorrow
night?"
When Victoria
shook her head no, I was not
happy. I understood why the woman was desperate,
but without her help, Disco would be gone even sooner
than I thought. "Victoria, that will make three
Fridays in a row that you have skipped Camelot. What's
your excuse this time? Do you still think Patricia's
voodoo doll is after you?"
Victoria
gave me a dirty look.
"Very
funny. Right now the Pistachio Club is the very least
of my concerns. My marital
problems have killed my love of the Nightlife, so you will just have to hold the
fort as best you can. Right now I am sorting out which direction is
best for me. After our talk on Tuesday night, I have been thinking long and hard
about moving in with you. However, I have to be honest.
I don't believe you make enough money for me to feel
confident about moving in with you. How will you ever support me?"
I stared at
her incredulously. "How will
you ever support me?" What kind of human being talks this way? Did
it ever occur to her to ask me why I would want to
support her in the first place? No, of
course not. She just assumed I was okay with this.
If Victoria kept
this up much longer, she was in for a very disturbing
reality check. Several
thoughts crossed my mind, but the dominant thought was
that I
never had any intention of supporting her to begin with.
Furthermore, the last time I checked, don't ordinary people
require an invitation to move in? Apparently
Victoria did not think she was ordinary. However, before I could respond, Victoria pulled a list
of questions from her purse and read them aloud.
Oh my God, here we go with another List.
Do you
have a room at your house for my daughter?
What schools are near your house?
Are
these schools any good?
What about health insurance?
How will I buy a
new car if the one I have breaks down?
When
I go to work full-time at the studio, what will my weekly schedule look like?
How much money do you think I will make at the studio?
I was
paralyzed with disbelief. Did she think Disco was
suddenly going to come back to life? This woman was scaring me to death. If I did
not
know better, Victoria was no longer half-serious about moving in,
she was completely serious.
There was a gulf between us wider than the
Pacific Ocean, yet Victoria was completely oblivious.
Yes, based on her encouragement, back in early July I was willing to
enter into a committed relationship with Victoria.
Yes, back in the early stage of July Car Talk we had
discussed the idea of Victoria moving in with me.
However, at the time Victoria had quickly dropped the subject.
Victoria's Husband List plus her low regard for
my house had caused her to lose interest.
Nor did I blame her.
Victoria's decision made complete sense. I agreed my house was nothing compared to hers.
Based on her Cold Feet, I shelved the idea completely.
I suppose I
did make one small mistake. Since Victoria had never shown the
slightest interest in moving in with me back in July, it had
never occurred to me to officially rescind the 'move in with me'
offer. Now through the miracle of Victoria's
twisted mind, she was acting like the offer was still on
the table.
Consequently, now that it suited her, Victoria had
unilaterally decided the offer still stood. If she
believed that, then I had news for her. The Good
Ship 'Move In with Rick'
had sailed back in July and was never coming back.
Since
Victoria seemed hell bent on barging her way through my
door, how was I supposed to put the kibosh on this moving
in idea?
As always, my mistake was trying to appease
the woman. Rather than just say 'Forget it,
Charlie'
and be done with it, I tried to find a way to
keep Victoria's friendship while pointing out that moving
in with me was a very bad idea. As usual, Victoria ran roughshod over my weak
play-along to get-along tactics.
Should I
mention Jennifer to Victoria? No, not if I wanted
to live. Victoria's mental state was too
precarious to take a chance like that. That left
me with a choice. Should I tell Victoria about the
giant rats in the
attic [a useful fib, but not true] or discuss my failing career?
I decided
to save the threat of rats as a last resort and brought up the
Dancing Cowboy instead.
"I
am sorry, Victoria, but I
cannot support you in the manner
that your List suggests. If you had bothered to visit
Camelot in the past two weeks, you
would see Disco is about to fold. So tell
me again what you think about teaching
Country-Western dancing?"
To be
honest, I had no intention of involving Victoria in my
Western Gamble. However, since I knew what she would say ahead of
time, I hoped any mention of C&W would quell her ardor. Sure enough, Victoria responded predictably.
"I think it sucks."
Nodding, I
replied, "Maybe so, but pretty soon Disco will be
dead. So how exactly do you expect me to support
you?"
Victoria
said nothing, so I took the list
of questions and pretended to study it
in the moonlight. These
questions bordered on the absurd, but it was the last
question that took the cake. 'How much money do
you think I will make at the studio?'
Here in September, Victoria was currently making $60 per
week in return for 17 students who paid $25 for 8 weeks
of one-hour classes. In other words, October was
already paid for. Let's do some math.
Including October, Victoria stood to make $480.
Her students paid $425. You get the picture.
Well aware
that this entire 'How will you Support me?' List was based
on pure desperation, I concluded Victoria was losing her
mind. I took a good
look at her here in the darkness. Victoria was a shell of her former
self. Once a deeply tanned blonde goddess,
Victoria was white as a ghost here in the moonlight.
Once bestowed with magnificent curves that made my mouth water,
Victoria had lost so much weight her figure had
disappeared. Victoria's hands shook constantly and
her worried frown distorted her pretty face. The
worst part was watching her bite her nails. I had
never seen a woman bite her nails before.
Lost in
thought, Victoria finally
spoke up. "If Disco folds, then how will you
support yourself?"
I stared out the window. That was a
good question. If this wild Meyerland gamble
worked out, maybe that would be my lifeline. But I
doubted there would be another stepping stone after
Meyerland.
"I have no idea what the
future holds for me, but it
looks like you
are finally seeing my
point. Back in July when I invited you to join me
at my house, business was good. Back then, I
could have supported you. But I did not
realize what a threat Urban Cowboy was
about to become. Things have
changed in a hurry. I have lost 75% of my business since then. The only way I can support you would
be to take money out of savings. Unfortunately, I am not willing to
do that, certainly not with the current
bleak future."
With that, I
handed the Support Me List back to Victoria. Poor Victoria, she
was too consumed with
fear to speak, so I continued.
"Victoria, you need to stop asking me to support
you. It isn't going to happen. Not only
that, you have
picked the single worst time to bring up the subject of
moving in with me. Do you understand that?"
"Sure, I
understand that. I also understand that my
husband has told me to leave the house and I have
nowhere else to go. I have spent the past year
building your business, I have jeopardized my
marriage in the process, and now I want you to come
through for me. You owe me that much, Rick.
My marriage is ruined thanks to you and I have
nowhere else to turn."
"Victoria, you are not listening. When you talk about moving in
with me, you are headed in the wrong direction.
My house is not your answer. If it is that
bad, you should consider moving in with your
parents. But my suggestion is to patch up
your marriage. Your daughter Stephanie is
a powerful reason that Michael will listen to
whatever you tell him. If you ask to try
again with
sincerity, he will give you a second chance.
Michael has always struck me as a forgiving man."
The last
time I said this, she responded with rage. This
time she answered with resignation.
"You're wrong about that, Rick. Michael
doesn't want me anymore."
"I'm
not buying that. Michael is very hurt and
no doubt disgusted with you, with me, and all
the nights you leave home each week. However, if he didn't
care for you, he would have moved out
by now and filed for divorce."
"Michael says I have betrayed him. He
says he can't trust me anymore."
"Michael has not been betrayed, at least not in a
sexual way [with the exception of Moonlight
Madness]. As long as that line has not been crossed,
you can use that point as a place to begin the
rebuilding process. If you wish, I will
speak to him."
Victoria
shook her head violently.
"Don't be ridiculous. It
is too late. Why won't you
listen to me? Michael is ready to part
ways. He says he can't take my indecision
and constant drama any more.
Over the past weekend, Michael repeated the
same thing
he said before, 'If Rick can afford you,
he can have you. This marriage is a sham.'
Don't you get it, Rick?
Michael has given me his blessing to leave. If
I decide to go, Michael isn't going to
fight you for me. But first I need your reassurance
that you can take care of me."
She wants my
reassurance? How many times do I have to say 'No'
before she catches on?
"I will tell
you what I think. I think you are about to make
the single worst mistake of your entire life. You have a
child to consider. Stephanie belongs with her
mother and father in the home she has been raised in.
Besides, Michael cannot force you to leave your home.
You own that house just like he does. You have
every right to stay right where you are. Let him
leave if he is that miserable. If he heads to
divorce court, he cannot claim adultery. Your rights are not compromised. Any lawyer
would tell you the same thing."
Victoria was
exasperated. That was not what she wanted to
hear. Victoria slammed her list of questions down
on the car seat,
straightened up and looked at me. I saw an intense expression cross her face.
Uh oh, here it comes.
"Rick,
do you love me? Are you willing to marry
me? Can I move in with you?"
