Free The Wager by Rosemary I Patterson PhD Page B

home," the former lounge owner told herself. "And before he turns up to take me to the concert."
    Honey's disturbed mind told her that she was vacillating between eager anticipation of Tyler's attentions and fear of the abandonment that had so often occurred in the past as attractive men had only been interested in short-term affairs.
    "If anyone is emotionally unavailable, I bet it's he," Honey's mind told her. "But it's only a month to Christmas. The bet just says a month. Surely I can hold on to him that long."
    Honey reminded herself that the college fund could make good use of the money.
    Back at her house Honey was tempted to call Tyler and cancel their date. She confided her problem to her daughter, Charlotte, who lived with her and quickly wished she had not.
    "How could you think of dating a Caucasian, Mother? You must be losing it."
    Honey told her daughter that Tyler's race was not the problem but that his considerable sex appeal was.
    "Who is this man, anyway?"
    Honey told her that he was the local Funeral Director, that he was all of ninety years old and had never been married.
    "Ninety years old! What are you doing, mother, rescuing a senior from some seniors centre like you rescued Bourbon from the dog pound? You've got to stop being so compassionate."
    Honey protested that Tyler was not a rescue senior. She tried to get Charlotte to understand that every time she had felt extreme attraction to a man it had ended badly. Charlotte kept missing the main point.
    "White, ninety years old, a funeral director, never been married," y'all have lost your marbles! I'm going to get a one way ticket for you to New Orleans before you do something y'all regret for the rest of your life. What could y'all possibly have in common with this man?"
    "Tyler loves dogs, New Orleans, Jazz, like I do and his voice and physical presence do something to me," Honey protested. "But that's not the problem."
    "I'll say it's not! Y'all have got to see a shrink, Mother. Your personality is starting to fracture, I'm sure of it."
    "I'll have a compatibility Astrological analysis done," her mood brightening as she thought of it. "That will get at the reasons for such a strong attraction."
    "Use a shrink instead, Mother! Maybe a psychiatrist can
    find out whatever bizarre reason you are attracted to a Funeral Director of all things. And one close to twenty-five years older than you."
    "Didn't y'all hear about the late play write Arthur Miller and his latest and last love. She was a thirty-five-year-old artist and he was eighty-nine. That's what it's like with creative people, y'know. They talked for hours every day for months after they met. That's what happens when I'm with Tyler. I think I'm in love with the man."
    "Y'all and that funeral director are not creative people. And how long did that Arthur Miller romance last?"
    "It's lasted over two years until his death. Only one of my marriages ever lasted that long."
    "Maybe you've developed a father complex?"
    "My feelings toward Tyler are not daughterly, I can assure y'all." Honey went upstairs to contact her favourite Astrologist. Honey could feel her daughter's strong disapproval following her.
    "Just because she's studying Psychology," Honey mused. "Personality fracture be damned. It's a Mars-Venus thing, I'm sure."

CHAPTER 8.
Virgie and Frank.
    V irginia Kelly found herself dressing more carefully than usual as she prepared to go to the first rehearsal for next month's Church Christmas Concert. She knew that Frank Simpson would be there accompanying the choir and she wanted to look her best.
    "I don't know about Gloria's wager," Virginia mused. Some part of her mind still told her the bet was connected to the Devil but another part of her mind reminded her that the church could make good use of sixty thousand dollars. It also told her that it would be better for Frank if she was the one that managed to interest him rather than worldly woman like Honey Pratt or Gloria Gustafson. Some part of