CHAPTER 4





Cate was in her bedroom when she heard Pam come home from her shift. She picked up a phone message she had taken down earlier that day and went into the living room. "How was work?" she asked.

"Pretty good." Pam said as she took off her jacket. " In fact, I have a date tomorrow night."

Cate squinched her nose. "Date? With who?"

" That proofreader guy we saw yesterday." Pam sat on the sofa. We're going to see Bastille."

" He's an interesting choice," said Cate, adding mentally, considering he's nothing like Dylan. " Did he ask you out? "

A smile lit up Pam's face. " Did he ever." The look on his face when I told him I thought he was married. That was precious.

Cate folded her arms. " And you want to date this guy? " she said in a skeptic tone.

" Not really. But I thought he might be a useful acquaintance to have, given that he's in the publishing business. Maybe he'd be interested in helping me out."

"Uh-huh."

" We'll go, we'll see how things turn out. He might want to help me."

" He might." Cate remembered the phone message and gave it to Pam. " Dylan called."

Pam grasped the slip with both hands. "Dylan! Why didn't you tell me before? " she asked impatiently. The she clasped it against her chest and sniffed. I thought he'd never phone!

Her impatience abated as her strategic instinct kicked in. Just as well I go the message so late. If she had received the message earlier, she would have phoned him as fast as she punch in the numbers on the phone. Now she would have to wait until the next day. Frantic desire was not a weakness she wanted to display. Not yet.



The alarm clock announced it was time to take her birth control pill. Pam bashed the clock a few times and finally hit the snooze button. Her heart fluttered. I get to call Dylan today.

She turned off the alarm then went to the bathroom. At what time should I phone him? Is 9 AM too early? Noon? I don't want to wait until noon! Anytime before 10 AM sounds desperate. Yep, I'll call him at 10:06 AM, just to make it look like I wasn't waiting until the top of the hour to phone him, so I don't look desperate.

She opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the package of pills. As she put the pill in her mouth, she felt a sense of relief that her intense hoping might be at last gratified.



As Tim's eyes opened, they faced the clock. It read 6:12. He had been trying to go back to sleep, but the anticipation of the upcoming date kept him awake. He said his morning prayers, then went to the kitchen for breakfast. Looking out the window, he noticed brown autumn leaves strewn across his backyard. They really need to be raked, he thought to himself. But he hadn't had a date in a year-and-a-half. The leaves can wait. He had to savour the day's excitement. Maybe they'll blow into the neighbour's yard.

He went to the refrigerator for some milk, when the thought occurred to him: how am I going to make a good impression on her? He put the milk on the table then gravitated toward the bathroom mirror and forgot about breakfast. His fingers combed his bushy black hair. Maybe it's time for a haircut. The stubble on his face bugged him. He powered his electric shaver and began rubbing it on his cheeks. Once he finished, a subtle whiff of body odour prompted him to hop into the bathtub and turn on the shower faucet. He vigourously soaped himself, meticulously rubbing every body part with such zeal that he was done in about three minutes. He slipped on some underwear and wondered about the cologne in the medicine cabinet. He opened it up and saw three bottles of Aqua Velva. I think it's time for a trip to the drugstore, he thought.

While I'm at it, I might as well check out my wardrobe. He went into his bedroom and slid open the closet door and pulled out his tie-rack. Yuck. When's the last time I bought a new tie? Another item to pick up at the drugstore.

He sighed. Why did he have to go through all this effort? So much strain. He was so comfortable with his Aqua Velva. And what in the world was a tie for? He loved strapping on a baseball cap on his head and slipping into his favourite pair of jeans that had been washed so often through the years there were bleached patches on the knees. What a chore it was to deliberate about what to wear and how to behave. The Good Lord didn't worry about that. The thought came unbidden. The Good Lord walked around the earth in rags. The Good Lord didn't worry about externals while he walked the earth. If the Good Lord had lived in this day and age, he would have ministered in Levi's and flannelite shirt.

Tim began to feel a surge of nervousness and tightness in his chest. He paced around the room and cracked his knuckles. He desperately hoped she was the one.

A knot started to form in his stomach. Oh, this can't be. She must be the one. This cannot be torpedoed because of religion. She had to be a wholesome girl, she really looked the part.

The crucifix over his bed stared back at him. He would have to clarify the matter as soon as possible, or else the relationship would not be worth pursuing. A germ of a tear secreted out of his eye at the prospect of losing this chance, perhaps his last chance at marriage.



Pam dialed the phone precisely at 10:06 and waited nervously for an answer. The third ring strained her nerves. How come he wasn't picking up?

Dylan reached for his cell on his night stand. "Hello?"

" Dylan? Is that you?"

" Yes, who's this?"

" It's Pam, the girl in your English class. You phoned last night."

His eyes opened wider. "Right, Pam. How ya doin'?"

" Did I wake you?"

" It's okay, I should be getting up anyway. Listen, I'm going to need some help with the next essay. Do you think we can meet sometime?"

" What did you have in mind?"

" I know this is short notice, but I was thinking today, maybe this afternoon?"

Pam repressed her excitement. "Gee, I don't know. " She let out a big sigh, and fiddled with the pages of her agenda, making sure her fidgeting was audible. " This is short notice."

" We can put it off until next week if that's…"

" No, no wait, let me see what I have to do today…" She shuffled some more pages. Her voice sounded absent-minded " Oh no, readings in Middle English, hm, this would be a good reason to put it off…" Her voice returned to Dylan. "Yeah, I guess I could spare a few hours this afternoon. What time do you want to meet?"

" Say three."

" Three's good."

" Another thing… would it be okay if we met at my place? I much rather work at home."

Pam's heart jumped. " Where is it that you live?"

" Right off Somerset, not too far from campus."

" Oh no biggy, I can find that."

He gave her the address and his phone number.

When Pam hung up, she began to jump up and down and did a little dance. Cate heard her thumping on the floor. She went to Pam's bedroom. " So what's the good news?"

" He has invited me to his place so I can tutor him. " She bunched up her hands in two fists and jabbed the air in anticipation.



The pink bricks of the new university student residences stood out on Somerset Street. The sun glistened on the clean windows. Dylan would live here, Pam thought. She'd heard the rents were not cheap. She figured his dad must be footing the bill, like with all the other tenants.

She found his block and rang the buzzer. He let her in. When she got to his door, she marveled at how new and color-co-ordinated his living room was. The furniture was obviously recent. This was not WalMart fare. A huge remote control stood out on the coffee table. It pointed to a gigantic wall unit that housed a massive entertainment system with two four-foot speakers, and a thirty-inch t.v..

Dylan led her through the main hallway and into the kitchen where he had already laid out his looseleaf, pen and textbook. He was working on As You Like It, and he showed her what he had written so far. "So what do you think?"

She became nervous as she read it. It was crap. She stifled the impulse to lie. " I think we should go over what the play's about, " she replied.

" That bad, eh? "

Pam gave out a weak chuckle. " I hope you don't mind if I'm honest."

" Of course not. Why would I mind?"

" Because your feelings might get hurt."

" Hurt? Over some essay? My self-esteem can take it."

Pam began to explain the play, and Dylan took down notes. Then she started to go over some of the themes that Shakespeare underscored. She told him some of the elements that pointed towards these themes. Dylan took this all down.

She felt excited, being next to him, talking about what she most loved. She had to work hard to keep her mind on the play. Her eyes kept gliding back to the two or three strands of yellow hair that dangled over his blue eyes. He was very business-like, concentrated on the task at hand. She tried to look for signs of romantic interest, like she was back in junior high school, but she could see none. Basking in his glow was not sufficient.

Do you suppose he could be the one? She asked herself. Another part of her scoffed at that idea. You're tutoring him for godsakes. It heaped scorn on her neediness. Pathetic. Her marriage-minded side smothered those objections and she pictured what it would be like to live in a big house with a flashy car in the driveway, and have two kids and a dog. He'd respect her and her accomplishments, of course, since they would be impressive. Not everyone gets to marry a woman with PhD in English literature. He'd be proud to have such a successful and intelligent wife. And she, of course, would die to have such an attractive husband, who was so much fun to be around.

Her independent side interrupted her daydream. You don't need a man to be happy.

--No, I don't need a man, but having one is sure nice, she countered.

--Only pathetic losers who lack self-esteem and don't have a profession need men.

--Well, I have self-esteem, and I will have a profession. So there, I don't need a man.

Dylan scribbled a few last lines and said. "Okay, I think I have enough to go on. " He put his notes into his binder. " Now that we have that unpleasant business out of the way, let's take a break."

He poured her some fruit juice and led her into the living room. Pam was grateful but confused. He put in a CD and told her to sit down. It was an alternative band called Lazy Susan.

" I'm glad you could make it this afternoon. I know that you must be busy, being such a good student and all."

" I'm glad to help. "

" And I know it must be tough to fit me into your dance schedule, " he said with a smirk.

She flashed an embarrassed smile." Yeah, they can't get enough of me, " she said sheepishly.

" I'll probably be dropping by Coyote Joe's tonight. Any chance I'll see you there? "

" I'm not on the program this evening. "

" That's too bad. I was thinking I could buy you a drink for all the help you've given me."

" I didn't say I wasn't going to be there, " she corrected.

" Does that mean you will be there ? "

" Depends. I have other engagements… what time will be dropping by?"

" Around midnight or so, if it's not too crowded."

" Midnight's okay. I could make it. Now I'm not giving that as a firm time, because I don't know what time I'll be finished." She said, not wanting to appear too anxious." I'm meeting a friend to go to a movie, then we might go out to eat, and do something else."

" Alright then. " Dylan looked at the clock on the wall. " I'm getting hungry. Are you hungry? I have some chicken burgers. You're welcome to them."

You mean as in, staying for supper? Oh my God! She looked at the time and mentally cursed. It was almost five o'clock. " I have to go home and get ready for my movie." She downed the last of her fruit juice and got up.

Dylan thanked her again for the help. She grabbed her jacket and left.