him. “I just think that relationships between men and women have a short life. Does it have to be somebody’s fault? Women are just as responsible.”
She once again had his full attention. “Go on,” he said, narrowing his eyes dubiously.
“I’m a realist.” She shrugged. “But most women aren’t. They stubbornly deny what is happening and ignore their inner voice that is crying out for attention—attention that can only be found in a new relationship. Now both of them are ignoring her and she really starts to deteriorate. Perhaps women are too sensitive. Perhaps our feminine egos are too fragile. But there it is. Many women just go with it, like that woman over there seems to have done. But you can see by looking at her that something is missing, right? You can see that the life has gone out of her? Probably she’s moderately healthy otherwise, and lives a fairly normal life. But her femininity and passion are utterly gone.”
Dan snuck another glance at the woman and seemed dismayed to find her husband eyeing Maryanne yet again. “Why doesn’t she leave that bastard?” he asked, perturbed.
Maryanne laughed. “When she married him, it had probably already started. That’s why women are so hot on marriage. They think it will bring his interest back. When it doesn’t, I’m sure these women are devastated at first. That’s why Cosmo sells so many magazines with nine hundred different ways to get his attention. But, by then, who knows? Maybe there were kids on the way, or perhaps she depended on him financially. And if you push a part of yourself aside for long enough, it will eventually die.” She looked at him. “You see, he couldn’t help that her loving him took all the intrigue away, and she couldn’t help that having no power to intrigue made her unappealing. Both were simply responding to what was.”
“And you still date, believing this?”
She laughed. “Like most women, I am a hopeless romantic.”
“Do you believe in love?”
“I do! That’s just it. But I think that sometimes love means letting go.”
Dan sat there for moment, thinking. “You know,” he said, “what I’d like to do is prove you wrong. I really would. But in order to do that, I’m assuming I’d have to come up with some evidence. Maybe find some shmuck out there who’s actually still enamored by the woman in his life. That’s really what we’re talking about here, right? She wants to feel special. She wants him to treat her like she’s special, even though the instinct inside him is saying, ’Been there, done that, losing interest,’ right?” He waited for her to nod her head. “I think there are men out there like that. Men who are more interested in the woman they’re with than any other women.”
“Well!” said Maryanne, impressed. She couldn’t help finding his optimistic, I-would-like-to-fix-this attitude extremely attractive. “You thinking it and it being true are different things,” she reminded him.
“Okay, but, come on now,” he said in an extremely reasonable, almost reproving tone of voice. “Your thinking that you’re right doesn’t necessarily make it true, either.”
And in that moment Maryanne knew that she was hooked. What she was going to do about it, she hadn’t yet decided. But what she had discovered in him so far—his intelligence, his open-mindedness and now, his strength of character—made him suddenly seem irresistible. She knew that her instincts had already singled him out. And in that instant, in that sudden moment of realization, she felt joy—but only for that single instant. For in the next, she had already begun to mourn the inevitable loss.
“Touché,” was all she said.
As if he already sensed his victory, Dan settled back in his chair and relaxed. Was it just her imagination, wondered Maryanne, or was he, too, already aware of it?
“Mmm,” Dan murmured thoughtfully. “So now all I have to do is find a man who is smart enough to override this…instinct, as you call it, and continue to show an interest in the woman he’s with. Is that it?”
“Well, that would definitely be a good start.”
“Mmm,” he said again. His lips twitched to hold back a slight smirk that was struggling to be set free on his features. “Where could I find such a man?” Encouraged by her growing smile, he continued on this theme, making a pretense of looking around the room curiously. “I wonder where,” he murmured.
Maryanne decided to play along. She, too, began to look around the room, but more skeptically than he was doing. “I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “It doesn’t look promising.”
“Well, then,” he suddenly announced with conviction. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you myself !”
Maryanne threw her head back and laughed. Game, set and match! she thought, admiring how he’d handled it. But when she recovered, she looked him over doubtfully, one eyebrow raised high. “You?” she asked. But she was only teasing him, and they both knew it.
“Sure, why not?” he replied with a casual air. “I always say, if you want something done right you have to do it yourself.”
“So who’s the lucky girl?” she now wanted to know.
“Ooh.” He tried to look a little put out. But he recovered quickly. “You realize the only way you’re ever going to know for sure whether or not I’m proving you wrong is if you’re right there, seeing it for yourself.”
“Mmm.” Now it was Maryanne’s turn to consider. “I guess that seems fair.” But truthfully, aside from this bantering, which was engaging and fun in and of itself, she really had no idea if he was serious about it. Was this just a line to get her home for the night? Probably. But what did it matter? If it was just a line, it was certainly one of the more original ones she’d encountered.
Just then, the waiter came to offer them dessert.
“You’ve barely touched your food,” Dan observed. “Was everything all right?”
“It was fine,” Maryanne told him. “I just wasn’t very hungry.”
He looked at her suspiciously for a moment, but didn’t say anything more. But she knew what he was thinking. People accused her all the time of being anorexic. But she loved her body the way it was.
As they left the restaurant together, she was suddenly filled with that jittery excitement that comes with a new romance.
“How about a little dancing?” Dan suggested. “Would you be into that?”
Maryanne smiled. “I would.”
She was not, however, a confident dancer, and she was pleased when Dan seemed content to slow-dance. Being close to him and having all of his warm, undivided attention directed at her as he led her across the floor acted like a cathartic for her libido. She felt ready and even eager for a more intimate embrace. But he appeared to be in no hurry and she, too, felt remarkably at ease and relaxed. Before she even realized it, they had danced and talked and laughed the night away.
She was surprised when he drove her back to the restaurant.
“Where did you say you were parked?” he asked.
“Oh! Uh, let me see.” She had fully expected him to want to take her home, or at least somewhere private. She was so taken aback by his casual manner that she momentarily forgot where her car was. She glanced at him, confused. She knew she had given him all the right signals. She was certain he was attracted to her. What on earth was going on? “It’s that street over there. Yeah, that one. And it’s the black car, a few blocks down.” She was completely flummoxed, and not a little disappointed.
“I had a wonderful time,” Dan told her, and she noticed that there was surprise in his voice. She wondered if he had felt some of the same misgivings about their date that she had.
“Me, too,” she said, blushing when it came out sounding like an accusation.
Dan chuckled knowingly.