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CHAPTER TWO
At 12:15 PM Wilson walked into the Honshu Inn, the Japanese restaurant where he had arranged to meet his friend Janet Goldberg, a social worker whom he had known since they had both lived in Chicago. Janet was a sixty-two year old, quite attractive woman who had managed to look at least eight years younger. This, Wilson knew, was the result of primal effort. Not only the treadmill and the Nautilus were part of this grueling work, but continual appetite redirection as well. Furthermore, she knew and practiced something that many other women — and men too — failed to take into account. If you wanted your skin to remain as firm and elastic as possible, stay out of the sun.
Janet’s husband of 35 years, Bill, had once been Wilson’s internist. As soon as Bill retired twelve years ago, the Goldbergs sold their city apartment and moved to Florida, into a mid-scale house about three miles from Wilson. Both Janet and Bill had been such good friends for so long that, rarity of rarities, Wilson found it difficult to say who was really his primary friend now.
“Ah, there you are, J,” Wilson said as he walked over to the table where she was already seated. As soon as he was comfortably situated, he picked up the menu. He loved Japanese food. Fresh vegetables, wonderful textures and colors, nothing overcooked. Probably the product of an economy in which fuel is at a premium, he thought. Nothing here to misdirect Janet’s lifelong effort to remain beautiful either. He studied the menu attentively.
“What’re you having?” he asked, looking at her over his half reading glasses perched atop the bridge of his nose.
“I guess the sashimi luncheon,” she replied.
“Excellent. Me too,” he said enthusiastically. I’ve been fearless ever since I had my hepatitis A shots.”
The waiter took the order, which Wilson communicated with pleasurable anticipation, and after a short silence Janet said, “So . . . what was the idea you wanted to 'bounce off me’?”
He thought for a minute about how to introduce his idea without being misunderstood, not that he hadn’t already thought about it on the way over. “Well . . . I’ve been thinking about the ways men and women relate to each other.”
“Now there’s an unusual and truly deep subject for consideration. Are you sure you need a social worker? Maybe a philosopher would be better.”
Wilson smiled. “Right now I’ll settle for a friend . . . What I’ve been thinking about is a somewhat novel idea. First of all, I’m sure you are familiar with the general thinking that older men often go after younger women.”
“I’ve heard about that somewhere. Still, I think the seniors I deal with all day long seem mostly to be beyond that phase . . . though an occasional octogenarian male has been reputed to have cut a memorable swath through one or two nursing homes.”
“I imagine there was willingness if not enthusiasm by all parties concerned, because rape in that environment would certainly have been mentioned prominently in the local if not national papers.
“But that’s not what I had in mind. I think that the main reason older men go after younger women is that they consciously or unconsciously recognize the need the additional stimulation that a younger woman can provide. My concern is about the consequences of that … quest, because as normally practiced I think it has a real potential for making an emotional if not financial mess for both sides.”
“It would be hard to deny you’re right on that score. But I hope you’re not talking about all men,” said Janet, sipping some water. “I can’t quite see Bill going that way. Still, to be fair I have to agree that inevitably an older woman is generally less attractive than one significantly younger … on a strictly physical basis. That’s why as a woman gets older she has to use non-physical wiles on her man more and more. At least if she has any brains. Many don’t. It can be a full-time job that needs intelligence and creativity.”
Janet seemed for a few moments to be lost in thought.
“Let’s for the moment simply take the case of an older man who has no woman at time zero, but wants to meet one to establish a relationship,” continued Wilson. “His urge is toward a younger woman. He has no wish to marry. He wants friendship and sexual stimulation. He also wants no economic jeopardy.
“Younger women who agree to get involved with such a man might typically be interested in financial security, less commonly in emotional support. Incidentally, though I really haven’t thought it out, the whole story could be reversed; an older woman getting involved with a younger man. I don’t want to be sexist.”
“That’s very becoming of you,” smiled Janet. "Where is this all going?”
Wilson was about to jump in with an answer, but the food came and they began to eat quite happily. Crisp salad, misu soup, tea, and of course the delectable raw fish main event.
“The problem is hidden agendas,” he continued. “Suppose the man is attracted to this younger woman, and she finds him personable at least. However, unless he is a complete fool, he can’t really believe the woman would find him as sexually attractive as a younger man is likely to be. Yet, the man wants sex first for as long as he can make the woman think he has not foreclosed on a more permanent arrangement. The woman wants, first of all, security, and then maybe companionship precisely to develop a permanent relationship. Neither has any very definite time period in mind. It seems probable that the eventual result will be deceit and hurt.”
“Interesting...but you’re forgetting lunch. Eat, dollink, eat.”
"You’re taking advantage of the fact that I was raised by a half-Jewish mother,” chuckled Wilson.
After a delightful ten-minute eating break, during which they exchanged only a few words of small talk, Wilson continued. “I think I found a way out of this dilemma. Please try to understand exactly what I mean. This is not a new, clever way to be devious. On the contrary; it’s an attempt to be … almost painfully honest.
“The way to avoid all the hidden agendas is to set the objectives out clearly from the beginning, just like a contract. It doesn’t even have to be written as long as it’s crystal clear to both parties. The main thing is that it should have an end point — a definite period in which it is in force, and no further. That will be the essential element, because it avoids all the unspoken objectives that women particularly are likely to have.”
For a few moments Janet seemed to be trying to frame an answer. “I don’t think that’s likely to be too attractive a proposition to most women. The man is getting what he wants, more or less, but the woman has invested her time and emotions into a relationship that won’t go anywhere in the long-term. She’s not getting what she needs.”
“It might surprise you to find that I agree with you completely,” replied Wilson.
Janet was surprised. She asked, "So what’s the point of all this? Just an unworkable idea to bounce off me?”
“Aha!” Wilson smiled. “That’s not the end of the story at all. The answer is to find a carefully selected woman who isn’t looking for permanent secure relationship with the man in question. She is looking for something completely different, something that the man can provide during a circumscribed period. That would make the relationship fair on both sides.”
“What would she be looking for, this paragon of a female who can’t wait to sign on to such a contract?” asked Janet, more intensely. She seemed suddenly beginning to become bored with this whole discussion.
Wilson was ready. “Career training. And she isn’t a paragon. She has a serious problem. She was dumped by a man, recently or not, and is in a dead-end low-level job from which she can’t escape without more training and maybe more education. But she can’t get this, not only because she probably doesn’t have the tuition money, but even more because while she’s getting her training she has no way to support herself. In addition, if she has a dependent child, the problem is multiplied … she may also have to see the child to school, to doctors, and elsewhere, so she also hasn’t the time, as well as the money, to get the training. I know there are state programs to cover this type of situation, but they are highly inadequate both in the numbers of people covered and in their inability to provide any reasonable level of support during training.”
With apparent renewed interest at this unexpected twist, Janet started her response by agreeing. “That’s certainly a common problem, maybe more so in Florida than elsewhere. A lot of people come here so that at least they won’t freeze in winter in case all sources of support money fail. But what are you proposing, exactly?”
Wilson replied, more slowly and precisely than before.
“The man will make an agreement with this woman. It will be for a set period of time ... something like six months. He will take her into his house, and provide food and shelter during this time. The necessities will then not be a concern at all for her while she is establishing her training program. In pursuit of that last part, since the man will typically be much better educated than she, he will be in a position to help her greatly. He will also, and this could be just as important, continually give her emotional support and . . . teacherly encouragement. If she has a child, he will help by picking him up from school and the like. She, for her contribution, will agree to sex. Ideally, she should grow to consider that a plus, frosting on the cake. In all respects he will be her temporary husband; she will be his temporary wife, of the age group he wants.
“That’s my spiel. Questions? Problems?”
“My first reaction,” Janet said, a slightly wry smile on her face which she tried but couldn’t hide, “Would be, Boy! Talk about exploitation! It sounds like a new kind of prostitution,” said Janet. “Aren’t you trying to trap an economically disadvantaged woman into a forced relationship?"
“I would reply,” said Wilson, doing just that in a measured cadence while leaning back on his chair, “Not at all; by the way, your not-so-latent womanslib is showing. In this arrangement, either party is free to terminate the relationship at any time before it expires contractually. If the woman feels exploited, put upon, anything like that, she can leave. On the other hand, the man can ask her to leave if he feels she is not carrying out her part of the bargain. Inci-dentally, I think one of the main dangers is that she might not make a fully committed effort to get her career training, but just plays around as soon as her basics of life are taken care of. I hope both types of problems can be avoided by a careful ‘interview’ process, pre-agreement.”
Janet thought a while and finally said, “Well, my second reaction is that I can’t honestly find anything inherently wrong with the scheme right now, damn it! I’m sure I will after I think about it, and you can be certain you’ll hear about it when I do. I suppose you’re quite proud of yourself.”
“You said it. I’ve at least temporarily stumped the expert. I’m so smug,” Wilson smiled, “That I’ve even thought of a totally chauvinistic slogan for the program. It’s a good thing I’m not a sexist male, or otherwise I might tell you that the slogan is ‘Getting on your feet by lying on your back’. Actually,” continued Wilson in his newly expansive mode, “I have no great prejudice for or against any positioning. It could be ‘on your front, side, whatever.’”
“Oh, shut up,” Janet chuckled, neatly folding her napkin and placing it under her plate. “Are you finished? Are you ready to go?”
“Not quite. There is a practical problem to be dealt with, that I’d like your views on too. How to meet such potential applicants. How a man should go about it.”
“Are you asking me to be a pimpess?” asked Janet after a moment of consideration.
“No, just a friend,” replied Wilson with his own wry smile. “Do you ever run into such ladies? Where can they be connected with? Where’s a good place to look?”
“Well, I can’t be expected to make any introductions, in whatever guise, without jeopardizing my professional standing. Maybe even my job, if it were found out. But I can suggest some general approaches,” said Janet, seeming to think aloud. “Maybe . . . some kind of help group?”
“What kind?” asked Wilson. “For widows, divorcees, separatees?”
“Possibly.”
“Well, the problem with that is that it seems that those groups select for women who have only recently experienced some kind of separation. Or maybe it was longer, but they haven’t been able to deal with over an extended period. Either way, groups like that seems too restrictive in a . . . well, maybe not negative way, but at least an irrelevant one,” replied Wilson. “I suppose I could try one or two, without having too many expectations.”
Janet smirked slightly. “I suspected this was about you all along.”
“I’m not hiding that. But I’m also a type, with a common problem. It extends beyond any one person. It’s a new kind of approach, a quid pro quo. Both people get something they want.” Wilson seemed almost to be proselytizing.
Janet smiled reassuringly. “Wilson, you’re such a prototype. Seriously though, it’s certainly an interesting approach, and maybe not so immoral after all. I’ll certainly be interested to watch your progress. But I have to get back to work now.”
As they rose to leave, Wilson observed, “You know, in this society there really aren’t good mechanisms for people interested in connecting to meet. I don’t know whether this specific kind of a search is easier or harder. It could actually be easier,” he mused, “Because I could be looking in quite unusual places to meet women. Not at public dances, but in places like the unemployment office. Or a laundromat — people who don’t even have their own washing machines, not even in their apartment house. I’ll have to find out. It’ll be sort of interesting,” said Wilson with some finality as they left the restaurant, gave each other a friendly kiss goodbye, and started to go their separate ways. However, as Wilson walked off he glimpsed that Janet stopped and turned, seeming to contemplate him.
