Last Stand at the Cafe

“I was in a place like this when I learned about you selling information on me, honey,” Laine said.

“Still won’t quit on that one, will you?” Dan muttered as he collected his black coffee and settled himself at the table nearest the threshold into the bookstore, and opened his newly purchased paperback.

“I know what I heard, honey! The guy said, ‘She didn’t get into Harvard, and her boyfriend likes playing with her breasts!’” She lowered her voice on the last four words, but not nearly enough to avoid being overheard. Half a dozen other people exchanged furtive looks, including the cute young woman in the horn-rimmed glasses and peasant skirt whom Dan had exchanged cordial looks with back in the women’s history section in the bookstore. Now she gave Dan a sympathetic look that he only just noticed as he wished he could melt into the floor.

Forgetting his resolution not to look up from his book, he gave Laine a stern look. “There must be thousands of women in New York who fit that description, you moron. Like I told you at the time.”

Laine sighed. “This is why we’re not together anymore.”

“Got that right,” Dan said without looking up from his book. “I had all I could take of you being so freakin’ paranoid.”

“You’re not paranoid if it’s real, honey! Women have to live with this all the time. Yes, honey!”

“I know. That’s no excuse to accuse me of a thing like that, when that guy could’ve been talking about anyone.”

“I gave you a chance to put it in writing, you know,” Laine reminded him. “All I wanted was a letter saying you hadn’t sold information on me to anyone.”

Dan laughed. “Right, that’s all!”

“Yes, honey, that’s all. But you wouldn’t give an inch, would you?”

“Nope.” His lips curled into a smile, and this time he succeeded. in not looking up from his book.

He tried to recall why he’d let his ex talk him into coming into the city for the weekend. He knew why she’d made the invitation, since she’d thrown out several hints about wanting to get back together. Had he really been that lonely lately? A furtive glance over by the window, where the woman he’d notice before was enjoying her latte, confirmed the answer. Yes, he had been that lonely.

But not for Laine.

The mystery lady’s beautiful attire reminded him of what Laine had told him on their first date two years ago. He’d been careful not to comment on the fact that she’d worn jeans for the occasion, but she’d put two and two together. “Don’t ever expect me to wear a skirt,” she’d warned him. “It makes me feel vulnerable.”

Nothing wrong with that, of course. Just like there was nothing wrong with her not wanting to drive him anywhere in her car – after all, they had just met, and Dan had always prided himself on never faulting women for being concerned about their safety. It was only weeks later he’d learned that she hadn’t been afraid he would attack her in her car; it was because she’d had concerns that it couldn’t support the weight of two people. Then it was only a week or two before she explained that she never went to the corner store on her block because the mother of the kid behind the counter worked for the CIA. “You know I manage some feminist chatrooms, honey, and they’re always checking in on us.”

Dan had, by that time, become somewhat attached to her. Not in love – he was quite sure now he’d never been in love with her – but he had come to enjoy her company, and he’d been learning a lot about feminist theory from her vast library of books that she never seemed to read herself. He’d even found her wardrobe – mostly black, always jeans – enticing in its unique way.

But from quite early on, he’d never been able to pretend she wasn’t nuts. For better or worse, “Don’t ever expect me to wear a skirt” had been the first hint of that. Ever since that brutal phone call six months ago when they’d finally called it quits, he’d found himself thinking next time around he’d seek out someone who was willing to wear one. Ridiculously unfair and superficial, he knew, but at least it’d be a sure sign she was nothing like Laine.

Not that Laine was quite ready to give up again. “Honey, are you going to just sit there all afternoon and read that?” she demanded.

“If I possibly can.” He couldn’t help smirking.

“Daniel! Don’t you know why I invited you here? It’s because we need to talk! We need to face each other! What we had was special, and I want to try again, can’t you see that?”

“Yes, I can see it. But you just accused me of selling information on you. Again.”

“Honey, women live with threats like that every day!”

“I know. I was just reading in Ms. Magazine the other day -”

“Oh, forget Ms.! I told you, Gloria Steinem used to work for the CIA, remember?”

“And how.”

“Anyway, look, Dan, you’re a clueless male chauvinist pig and you always will be, but I love you, all right?”

“Oh, I have no doubt.”

“No doubt about what?”

“That you love having me around to abuse like you just did.”

“It’s not abuse, honey! A woman cannot abuse a man, ever, because of power differentials!”

Daniel burst out laughing, and chanced a look at the table next to theirs, where he was rewarded with the sight of two young women who were looking at Laine and obviously struggling not to join in on his laughter. But he couldn’t bring himself to look over by the window.

Laine grabbed up her gloves from the table – the same gloves Daniel had given her two birthdays ago. She had taken one look at them and asked him if he still had the receipt, but she’d worn them regularly ever since. “So this is it, then?” She stood up. “Two years, and you’re not even willing to try again?”

“You said yourself, there’s a reason why we’re not together.”

“Yeah, because you wouldn’t acknowledge my real fears! But here I am saying I’ll accept that if we can get back together, honey! Are you really gonna throw that chance away?”

“Yep.”

Laine gave him a long last dirty look, which he didn’t see because he was once again reading intently, and she grabbed up her gloves and stormed out. Out of the café and, he could only hope, out of his life.

Dan didn’t look up from his new book for quite some time. So he never noticed that he’d caught the attention of his new friend by the window. Lila – for that was her name – had done her best not to let on that she’d been listening in on their conversation. Not that the poor guy’s ex had made that any too hard to do, but she had nevertheless had to remind herself a time or two that it was none of her business. And yet, what kind of woman threw away a guy who read women’s history and Ms.?

A crazy one – anyone could see that. Lila thought of her most recent ex. Mike’s problem wasn’t that he read the wrong kind of books, it was that he didn’t read at all. “I’m schooled out,” that was what he’d always said, and he could never fathom why she enjoyed reading. “Don’t you remember college is over?”

College was over, all right, that was why she’d stuck with Mike as long as she had. How was she going to meet anyone new, after all? Friends regaled her with stories of meeting Mister Right at church, but she didn’t go. There was talk of being introduced by friends from work, but that hadn’t happened either. One dating app after another had proven to be far more trouble than it was worth. So when Mike had finally pushed her too far with his chauvinistic jokes and failure to listen to her concerns, Lila had reminded herself of all the times she’d heard women were happier on their own than in a relationship.

And for the first few months, she had been.

A precious few of her friends had confided in her that, for the first time in their lives, they’d asked the guys out instead of waiting to be asked. Lila had never given that any real thought, having had no trouble attracting guys since the seventh grade. But it did seem only fair. Especially given how many creeps she’d been attracting ever since Mike left. Time and again she’d had to remind herself that there were decent guys out there…here was one, and his ex had left no doubt whatsoever that he was available.

And he liked women’s history!  But he was too engrossed in it at the moment to take any notice of her.

As Lila finished her drink, she thought of all the times some jerk had helped himself into her space at a café, or a bar, or even on the bus. And how no amount of subtle hinting that she wanted to be left alone ever made any difference. Was what she was considering really any different just because the genders were reversed?

Yes, she decided. If he said no, she would leave. That made it different.

Before she could lose her nerve, Lila stood up and strolled over to Dan’s table. “Excuse me,” she said with a smile. “I saw you looking over that book in the shop, and I’m thinking of buying a copy too. How do you like it?”

Dan looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, but he returned her smile. “Oh, hi! Yes, I remember. I just started, but I like it so far. I did my senior thesis on one of her other books, actually.” He closed the book and gestured to Laine’s empty seat.

Lila gladly took the seat. “You didn’t major in women’s history, did you?”

“As a matter of fact I did,” Dan sighed. “Much to my ex’s disgust. That was her who was here before. Good riddance.”

“To her disgust? Why?”

“She didn’t approve of men taking women’s history classes. ‘You might do really well, honey, and make your female classmates feel inadequate!’” he mimicked.

“What?!” Lila laughed. “Something tells me you’ve got a lot of stories like that!”

“Want to listen to some more of them over lunch?” Dan asked. “There’s a great bistro down the block.” Then, before Lila could respond, he backtracked. “I mean, I’m sorry, I know you only wanted to ask me about my book, but…”

“Who says I only wanted that?”

Dan looked dumbfounded. “Really?”

“Listen, I can see why you’d be conditioned to think it’s evil to ask someone out. But yes, I’d love to hear some more of your stories about her over lunch. I’ve got a few of my own.”

“Oh, good,” Dan said. “Yeah, you’re right, I guess you overheard…”

“I did,” Lila said with a sympathetic nod. “Good riddance, really.”

Dan grinned like a schoolboy. “Say, is it out of line if I tell you I like your skirt?”