Authors: Nancy Frederick
We didn
’
t get rich, but we didn
’
t fold either, and each of us made enough money to quit our jobs and run the gallery full time. It was a living and it was fun. A total of five years had passed since my separation, and I had gone through the jaws of hell and was coming out intact on the other side. My life was nothing like the domestic picture I
’
d always envisioned, but it was once again livable.
One evening, my stepbrother Steve called me from
Los Angeles
. Steve had been my best friend all through grammar school, and it was because we were always together that my mother met his father and were married. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for my best pal to turn into my brother. Some people are just inherent kinfolk, whether or not you
’
re actually related.
In fact, I gave Steve his nickname, Ace. By junior high he had developed into a star athlete, always winning every sports competition he entered. One day, after coming in first in six different events at our sportsathon, and bragging that they were easy aces, I started calling him Ace, just to tease him. He didn
’
t mind and everybody else loved it. Steve became Ace after that, and even our parents stopped calling him Steve. The best thing of all was the effect his nickname had on his teachers. Like some kind of subliminal message, the nickname prompted them always to give him A
’
s on his report card. He was smart enough to earn the grades, but even when he goofed off, he still aced everything. In sports his reputation grew such that his competition was nervous, and so even on off days, he aced them out.
Ace had been in
L.A.
for three years, and now he was quite successful. Every cent he made he invested. He would gladly have supported me during my sluggard years, but luckily for both of us, I didn
’
t let him. Now we each had the beginnings of our own success, but Ace was miserable on another score. An ex-beauty queen had shafted him emotionally and he felt a little worn and weary of the dating wars. Couldn
’
t I come out there for a visit?
I decided to go. I hadn
’
t had a vacation since divorcing and seeing Ace and
California
seemed like a wonderful idea.
Sharon
could manage without me for a while. Besides, I remembered what old Mr. Mason had told me when reading my horoscope
—
that I should go to
California
.
I didn
’
t know what the future had in store for me, but it was no longer confusing or frightening. I had survived my crises and was in charge of my life for the first time ever. There was satisfaction in working, even if sometimes the work included menial tasks. It was better to be a grownup than a child and far better to be independent than dependent financially. Ms. Magazine was right.
Ace
Light Weights
It was such a relief when Liana said that she would come and visit me. Quite some time had passed since we were together for more than a day or so, and it would be good to spend time with someone I love and trust
—
someone from home. Sometimes I think that coming to
California
was a mistake. Yes, I make a lot of money here, and yet it is a beautiful place. It
’
s fun to help people look their best and I enjoy the physical nature of my life and work. But I just don
’
t feel nourished. The people seem sweet and friendly, but there is this lack of intimacy, perhaps because I
’
ve been here such a short time, I don
’
t know, but I never really feel that we
’
re connecting.
After I met Tawny it seemed that things were changing. We got to talking in the gym and eventually I agreed to help her train, just as a gesture of friendship, not for any money. Maybe that was my mistake. Girls like Tawny just naturally attract guys who do things for them, whether they deserve it or not. It didn
’
t matter to me that she was a gorgeous blonde, former beauty queen, with a great body, or that she drove a 650SL. She was just so sweet and appealing. She
’
d smile at me and the freckles on her nose would scrunch up and her blue eyes would twinkle. She
’
d shrug or grin or bounce and give off such sweet little girl energy that it was hard not to want to take care of her.
I had grown weary of the women I train. They are insecure and so in need of reinforcement about their self worth that I always have to give them an extra boost of my own energy. After a day of being complimentary and supportive I felt like collapsing in a heap in front of the TV. It made no sense. They always want me to sleep with them, and it
’
s never because they find me attractive or sexy. They don
’
t even notice me really, because they are so wrapped up in themselves that they expect sex as just another part of the workout. Their bodies are in shape, they have untold stores of energy, and they want to have sex in front of a mirror in their private workout rooms so that they can admire their looks in motion, as if in rehearsal for the ultimate sex act with someone important whom they want to dazzle. At first I was flattered and impressed to have these gorgeous women throwing themselves at me, and I enjoyed racking up a string of conquests. But then it began to leach out my energy, the way a wrong combination of vitamins can deplete your system instead of enriching it. Ultimately I could see that to them I was just part of the hired help, performing another service, no more personal than a window washing or tire rotation.
Then I realized that everybody gets laid in
Los Angeles
. It just depends on where you stack up on the continuum. The gorgeous get laid because of their beauty, usually with people less attractive who want to seem important, and the addition of a beautiful partner accomplishes that goal. These were gorgeous women, but my own looks, despite the fact that they are pretty hot, if I do say so myself, are inconsequential. They equate me with themselves
—
someone pretty but without substance who pedals flesh in exchange for money or position. And since none of them knew about my education or about the fact that I invest my money, based on tips from clients and from inside sources, and that yes, I now have a bundle which I don
’
t bother to flaunt, they don
’
t realize that I cross over their category into the one of moneyed individual, or their partners of choice.
Of course it is sometimes possible that two gorgeous people are making it together and there can be several explanations for that, such as they are both drunk and are acting simply on physical or emotional impulses. Or they could be the athlete-beach bunny types who get off on merely the physical. They are a bit out of the mainstream, although any beach bunny girl is likely to be aware of her powers of attraction for rich guys who like hot bodies. Likewise could the jock generate interest in a rich woman who likes a handsome stud, but that is far from mainstream also. There are too few rich and independently powerful women in this town for them to reach for a stable of jocks. Some of the body builders I know talk about finding rich women to service but I
’
ve never seen that happen
—
they just don
’
t travel in the same circles, and yes, I do get many sexual opportunities, but a relationship is never a possibility, at least it hasn
’
t been for me or the women who want me to sleep with them.
A guy I met at a bar told me that there were rules here for sex. I laughed at first, but as I began to observe people, I saw he was right. There is lots of sex because everybody is very physical, but mostly it is casual. You can meet a girl and charm her and dazzle her with your smile, if you have a dazzling smile, and I think I do, and you can pick her up. Sometimes she might go home and go to bed with you. If so, that means she isn
’
t interested in you and there
’
s no reason to call her. When a girl is really interested, she
’
ll be encouraging but she
’
ll always say no, for at least three dates. That
’
s how you know that she
’
s willing to have a relationship. Unless it means that she simply needs someone to buy her dinner. You have to read signals to figure out the difference, or just hang in there until the fourth date. By then, if she says no, you know that she
’
s just been passing the time with you on odd nights, maybe because there
’
s no chemistry or because there
’
s someone else in the picture and she
’
s just using you for backup. You know that she
’
s getting laid, because everyone is getting laid, so she
’
s sleeping casually on a one-night stand basis with people in whom she has no interest other than for a passing sexual encounter. Even now with the AIDS crisis, that
’
s how it works. People are just more careful physically. Emotionally they
’
re still the same.
The beautiful girls require more money and more effort. Mike says that you have to buy a girl, but Mike doesn
’
t have my looks or body. Even he said that the rules might be slightly different for me because I
’
m a
“
good type.
”
According to Mike, the beautiful girls always want something. They
’
ve been taught that their looks are a commodity that can be worth a lot on the open market, once they master the accepted system of barter. That means fancy presents, deluxe evenings, trips to resorts in which you buy their clothes. Of course, that
’
s at a very high level, and even an ugly guy can get a beautiful girl if he has the bucks to pull it off. And if a regular guy like Mike is seeing a beautiful girl, when a bigbucks comes along, she is justified in going off with him for a weekend. After all, she could get a whole wardrobe out of it and in no way would it diminish the affection she felt for Mike. On that weekend it would be understood that he had the right to drift off into a casual affair with any girl he could get because he and the beautiful girl were just in a temporarily freelance mode.
Wow! This was so amazing to me that I thought that Mike was just exaggerating at first. How could people interact and relate like that? Where was the sense of it? Where was the pleasure or the happiness, the love and closeness? I was sure that the people Mike described were in the minority, and that somewhere there was a girl who would want to fall in love totally, and forever, a girl who would want me for myself and once we met that she would never even look at another guy, no matter what his bankbook said, not even if she thought I was broke and without prospects.
I thought Tawny was that girl. It was so much fun to have her in my life. I
’
d call her every day after finishing my workouts, and lots of times we
’
d have dinner together, sometimes at my place, sometimes at hers. It was so nice to have a real home cooked dinner, whether I made it or she did, because it seemed as though we were really involved romantically, and that perhaps our love affair could turn into a real relationship that would become a marriage. What is nicer than being married to someone you love, coming home and spending every evening with her and every night with her in your arms? On the weekends we
’
d do so many fun things, like going to the
Santa Monica
pier where we could ride the merry-go-round and I could win her all sorts of stuffed toys at the games. We
’
d have drinks or dinner at Chinois on
Main Street
and maybe go dancing at Grubstake
’
s or the Oasis. I love to stroll along
Main Street
and to look into the windows, with Tawny
’
s hand warmly buried in my own.
Once we drove down to
Ensenada
for a weekend. The drive itself was so beautiful and romantic that I almost proposed right there. As it was, we began a discussion about the future, our separate and joint dreams, and it seemed our goals were more than compatible. Tawny wanted to make it as an actress. She wanted to earn her own living so that she could stop relying on her alimony to pay her rent and the leasing fees on her car. I admired her guts and grit and was glad she was an independent, modern woman rather than a little plaything of a girl. I often thought about offering to support her, about asking her to give up her apartment and move in with me, but the right moment to bring it up never quite arrived. Besides, it was October, and Christmas was coming, so I decided simply to wait until then to give her a nice diamond and propose.
During our weekend in
Mexico
, I became more and more certain this was the right thing to do. We had so much fun strolling along the streets, buying little knickknacks, stopping for drinks each night at Hussong
’
s and eating in all the little out of the way places that had such pleasant service and such good food, that it seemed that we were on a honeymoon that was destined to last forever. Late we would return to our room and make love until we both fell asleep exhausted and happy in each other
’
s arms.