At first, the conversation is a little stiff, but Marjorie turns out to be a pretty spirited old lady. I like her. She tells us about her years managing the family business. She wasn’t the president, but it sounds like she should have been. Mats keeps asking about the business stuff, like the bore he is. The meal turns out to be pretty normal: pot roast, boiled potatoes, and a green bean casserole. No special cutlery needed.
After dinner, we stay at the table. Marjorie is in a relaxed mood, so I dive into her personal life.
It’s a bit unusual that you never got married, right? My grandmother told me that there was a lot of pressure on young women back then. Of course, my grandmother didn’t really like my grandfather, so being single was her escapist fantasy.
Damn straight. My parents trotted out a series of eligible bachelors for me, and I rejected every one of them. Whenever Marjorie swears, I make sure to smirk at Mats. Maybe less profanity, my ass.
So, no romance for you? I ask loudly.
Oh, I didn’t say that. I was fortunate enough to come of age when the birth control pill first became available. That was the great liberator for women, not having to worry about unwanted pregnancies. But I’ve always appreciated a good-looking man. At that, Marjorie gives Mats a significant look. He turns pink, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing.
I think she needs her glasses, I murmur to Mats in a voice too soft for Marjorie to hear. He flushes even more.
But I never found a man I could live with, she continues. They always wanted to change something about me: quit my job, change my fashion sense, make fewer charitable donations. Take me as I am, or take off.
Marjorie could rule social media with her advice. She’s more to the point than all that if you can’t handle me at my worst crap.
Amen, Marjorie. I’ve dated guys who tell me that I’m too much—too much woman for you, maybe.
She chortles at that. The corner of Mats’s mouth twitches as he struggles to maintain his perfect control.
Does it hurt, keeping your opinion to yourself, Roy? I murmur across the table in a low voice. It’s fun having this dual dialogue going on. Not as much fun as if Mats reacted, but this evening is more entertaining than I expected.
You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince, Marjorie declares.
Not to brag, but I’ll bet I’ve kissed more frogs than you, I say.
She cackles loudly. I’ve had decades of dating, though. Shall we go head-to-head?
Bring it on, Marjorie. I’ve crammed a lot of bad dates into my short dating life, I declare.
She smiles. My first boyfriend, Andrew, came from a good family. His father and mine were best friends. But he was dreadfully boring. Poor boy couldn’t talk about anything other than philately.
Whatever that may be. My first boyfriend was dating two of us at the same time. And it took me a month to catch on. Ugh, even hearing the name Tyler still makes me feel dumb.
Many men suffer from insecurity, Marjorie decrees. I’m familiar with the type. My having an executive position was enough to discourage many of my escorts.
Um, we don’t call them escorts anymore, I correct politely. That makes it sound like you paid them to go out with you.
She giggles girlishly. Oh, you mean gigolos. Naturally, a woman of means gets approached by that kind of man all too frequently. Especially on the continent. But I’m able to spot them easily.
Guess I’m lucky that I have no money, then. Although I dated this one guy, Austin, who always forgot his wallet when we went out. I paid for all our dates. I make a face. It’s not like I had money to throw around. It’s fine if a guy doesn’t have money, but just be honest, right?
Did Mats just nod at that? Why? Money is not a problem for him.
Marjorie sniffs. Even in the time of women’s liberation, there were men who expected me to quit my job once I married them. Ridiculous, especially since my income was much higher than theirs.
Yeah, I get that. I once dated this guy, Josh. He assumed I would skip my hockey game because his band was in some battle of the bands competition. Dude, hockey is more important to me than you.
She chuckles. My, you have had a lot of bad experiences. There are at least some gentlemen that I remember fondly.
Have you ever tried online dating?
She shakes her head. I didn’t think she had, but you never know.
Well, it sucks. They see my photos and like me. But when we meet in person, suddenly it’s rejection city. This one guy, Arthur? We met for coffee, and when I took my coat off, he takes one look and says, ‘I don’t date women with bigger biceps than me,’ and takes off.
There’s a throat-clearing sound from the other side of the table. Mats is watching me with a curled lip. Of course, he’s judging me.
