"Really?" she said, wide eyed. "Leave everything behind? You feel so disconnected to everything here?"
I took a sip of my beer. "Once I do my round-the-world sailing trip, I’d go happily. It would be a once in a lifetime experience."
"It would be dangerous."
I shrugged. "Life is dangerous. Sailing around the world is dangerous. Hell, walking across the street in Manhattan is dangerous. It doesn't matter how you die. It matters how you live. I want to really live. That means taking risks."
"But you won't risk a relationship with someone?" she said, her eyes narrow. "You won't risk marriage?"
I stiffened. "Marriage is a trap," I said. "People get married, have kids and then their lives are over because of responsibility. Or, their partner cheats on them and leaves them for someone else. I want to really live my life and not be held back by a wife and children."
She glanced away and her expression suggested that she didn’t agree and thought I was being immature. I'd gotten that response before when I talked about my plans to leave the corporate world, sail across the oceans, and get involved in the space race. I couldn't expect other people to understand.
"There are already too many people on the planet," I said and sipped my beer. "I don't need to add any more. My line will end with me, I'm afraid."
She frowned. "But your children would have a real chance to do something with their lives. They'd be wealthy enough to go anywhere and do anything they wanted just like you're able to. It seems like a waste of your circumstances not to have children. What about your sister? Should she not have become pregnant?"
"No, that's not what I think. She wants kids more than anything. I'm glad she's going to have a child. But look at what happened to her – she finally gets pregnant but it's with a cheating bastard." I took another sip of my beer, trying to calm down. Just talking about Eric made me angry. "No, it's not for me."
I shrugged, because I knew she wouldn't understand. That's just the way I was. I'd seen enough of bad marriages and cheating partners in my life to want one myself. Maybe her parents were happy, but mine sure as hell weren't.
"You never know what's going on in someone else's mind. I used to like Eric, before I discovered he was a bastard."
"You can't let the bad people in your life make you think there aren't still good people," she said. "What kind of life will you have if you don't have a family? You'll be lonely when you get old if you don't have family."
"I'll have friends. I'll have people who choose to be with me, not those who are forced to be with me out of blood ties."
She glanced away and I could see this was one of those issues that we could not see eye to eye on. I could tell she was upset, and didn’t want her to start having second thoughts about going with me to my family retreat.
"I hope this doesn't put you off from being my plus-one at the beach house in two weeks…"
She glanced back at me. "You really can’t just say to Mrs. Blake that you're not the marrying type and you're not interested in Felicia? Why not be direct? That way, you can go on your own and not have to worry about bringing anyone along."
I shook my head. "I need a pretend girlfriend so that I can go without worrying about being pushed together all the time with Felicia."
"You don't need me," she said, drinking her soda. "I'm sure you have other women you could bring along just for the sake of appearances."
"I said I was bringing you. I concocted this whole story about how we met at Columbia and are now serious."
"Look," she said met my gaze. "I get that you're not the marrying type, especially after what happened. You're not into a relationship. Really, at this point in my life, neither am I, but I'm just not interested in spending time at your beach house with a bunch of strangers, so I'm probably better off just spending the weekend studying."
"I take it that's a firm no?" I said, feeling strangely let down that she was pulling out. "I can't convince you with tales of the great food and surfing, and of the fabulous company?"
She shook her head and smiled, but I could see it was forced. "Nah, let's just chalk this night up to a comedy of errors and leave it at that. And now," she said and glanced at her watch. "I really should get home. I'm meeting the girls for brunch and then I have all these journal articles to read…"
"I'll pay you what I said I would."
"What?" she said and made a face of disgust. "Are you kidding me? I'm not an escort. I'm not impressed by your money or your family. I did this because I thought you were truly in need of a date because you must be such a loser that you had no one who wanted to be with you. I did this to help a stranger – who, I might add – came off as a real jerk. I don't want your money."
"Ow," I said and winced. "Why don’t you tell me what you really think?"
She shrugged and I could see how angry she was.
"Let me take you home," I said, standing up when she did. "That's the least I can do if you don’t want my money."
"I know my way around the trains," she said and boy, what a change of atmosphere from earlier. I must have said something that bothered her.
"I'd feel better if I could at least pay for a cab so I know you got home safely, if you won't let me take you."