He made a defeated face. "You are pretty cute."
"Okay, but I don't have a face that would launch a thousand magazine ads, that makes people stop dead in their tracks. On a scale of one to ten, maybe a seven. You, whether you like it or not, are a nine and a half."
He made another distasteful face, but waited for her point.
"So here we sit, free to be anything but celibate, and what are we whining about? Being surprised by unexpected sexual overtures. Why? We ought to be at least flattered. And maybe tempted. We certainly shouldn't be surprised. What is the matter with us?"
Matt frowned as if trying to get a tough test answer right. "These were ... spur-of-the-moment situations with virtual strangers. We're not that casual."
"Why not?"
"My background, religious and social."
"Obviously. But I don't have your background. So ignore yours for a moment. You said you liked this artist. You admit you found her attractive. You almost admitted that you might have liked the idea if you hadn't been so shocked."
"I can't ignore the fact that it doesn't seem right--"
"But it did seem a little exciting?"
He was silent for a while. "It showed me a world I'd never thought about. Nice people meeting and moving right to the bedroom. Ordinary people. For a moment that looked easier, maybe even more romantic than going through all the stumbling steps of building a relationship."
"Instant attraction. Instant love affairs. It's in all the movies. And it's out there. You haven't seen it because your vocation was a shield."
"Not from everything. Women were always trying to flirt with me."
"But. . . now you're noticing that you can flirt back."
"You mean, before I never would have noticed what she was implying? No, I'm just a vain fool. I must have imagined the undertones."
"No. Darren Cooke only had to say, 'You could stay,' in a certain way, and I saw the whole scenario from beginning to end. You can't build a court case on body language, or tone of voice or unsaid messages. But anyone who's been around a while, who's available, will notice them.
It's only natural."
"I've never thought of myself as available. But you were going to make a point about being available and not being available."
"Yes. Anyone who's really committed to someone--or something--else won't hear or see the signals. You won't be looking, so people will sense that and won't look at you that way. Even if they still indicate an interest, you'll deny it, dismiss it, show surprise. Because you really aren't in the market. Happy longtime paired couples are like that. Priests and nuns make vows to be like that. And then there's everyone else."
"So why were you as surprised as I was, even offended?"
"Were you offended?"
"No." He thought again. "Scared."
Temple laughed. "Someday you won't be scared anymore, and then what will you do?"
"You're dodging the issue of Darren Cooke."
"I suppose. Maybe it's because girls are hit on by guys they'd never date, much less sleep with, at an early age. Maybe it's because in the working world, women are still considered fair game. We get touchy. We demand sincerity. We just want to do our jobs and not get hassled.
Most of us tune out to sexual feelings on the job.
"I have to admit that I was flattered to be invited to Darren Cooke's Beautiful People brunch, that I was flattered to be consulted by him. I thought I was being taken at face value, not Face value. So I was angry at his sexual suggestion, and the fact that his way of life relies on using women like facial tissues, one snatched from the box after another, then discarded.
"If he's your caller, and even if he isn't, he's a sexual addict. Anyone involved with suc h a person becomes a victim. I don't like being singled out as a potential victim. He's a sick man, and part of his sickness is that he's so charming about it."
"You don't criticize Janice like that."
Temple shrugged. "That's different. Personally, it annoys me, but what happened, or what you think almost happened, is understandable."
"Understandable? You walk into a woman's house, and two hours later she's ready to sleep with you?"
Temple sipped cold cocoa. It was hard to give sex-education talks to a man you were attracted to. It made her feel like a big sister, at least. She could see where parents went white at the idea. Ethics and realism had to blend, and the result couldn't help but be confusing.
"Look at what you told me about her. She's divorced, probably had a decent financial situation before, but now is struggling to keep up the house and take care of the kids she got custody of in the divorce. Maybe her husband was well-off, but a jerk. Maybe he was a nice guy but they changed in different ways. Maybe he abused her. You can't know. But she's attractive and spending all her time being Mama and Artist. Maybe she can't consider a serious relationship because of the kids and the ex-husband and bad examples. So the kids are away at computer camp for once, right? And in walks this nice guy, nice-looking too, and maybe the physical type that pushes her buttons, which are getting a little rusty. So ... she could do worse; what would it hurt?"
"Leave out the morality, what about disease? She didn't know my background. The risk--"
"--was maybe worth it to her. And from the persnickety house you described, you can bet safe sex would have been practiced. She's not crazy, just lonely. Maybe she hasn't had sex in a year. Or two. Or more. And there you are, looking like the angel Gabriel."
"But, why me? Why not the delivery man, or an old friend?"
"Different social class, or maybe her old male friends are all married. Look at your hands. No rings. Besides, most men your age have developed some line or another, something slightly false to get through. You're absolutely honest. Oh, baby, you are the answer to a maiden's prayer."
Temple tented prayerful fingers. " 'Course they don't know you've got some growing-up to do."
"Is that why you ... showed an interest in me? Max was gone and you were alone, and I was there, this naively honest fool?"
"Partly. I felt guilty about being attracted to you. Yes! Non-Catholics feel guilty sometimes too. I felt disloyal to Max, even though he'd disappeared without a word, which is fairly disloyal behavior in a relationship. But there's that third factor, besides opportunism and personal emptiness. There's Mother Nature's little elixir: hormones, infatuation, inexplicable instant rapport.
"Society says it should operate only under certain conditions for certain available people, but it doesn't.
"And," she went on, "because it's always there, we could all be playing with fire all the time.
People like Darren Cooke get hooked on the built-in excitement of the first time so much that their first times are also always the last times. Then it's always the hunt and the capture and surrender, then the next game. That way everyone is a challenge, everyone strikes sparks, and these people are always in a state of sexual anticipation. It dominates their lives like cocaine.
They need more and more, and end up emptier with every hit. It's a fun fantasy, but a bad trip in real life."
"I don't know if I want to live in real life," Matt said glumly. "The choices are worse than I imagined, even in the confessional back at St. Stan's."
"Worse in what way?"
"Not clear-cut."
"No-no's are always clear-cut. It's saying yes to life that's sticky."
"You and Max . . . have you--?"
"No. I've thought about it. He says he was faithful when he was gone. I believe him about that."
"That's trust."
Temple nodded solemnly. "That's what we had, before."
"And now?"
"Now ... something valuable's lost."
"That's sad."
"Yes, it is. And every relationship is that delicately balanced."
"About my ... encounter. It occurred to me I might be able to get it over with easily, with no second thoughts or stricken conscience until afterward, and that it would be worth it to be on equal footing with him, with you. To not be this . . . freak anymore."