Wilma was admirably forthright about her reasons for refusing him. She wanted to get married; she was actively looking for the right man, but the right man had to have a substantial bankroll and a damned good job. A cop, she said, would never make enough money to provide her with the lifestyle and the security she wanted. Her first marriage had failed largely because she and her husband had always been arguing about bills and budgets. She had discovered that worries about finances could burn the love out of a relationship, leaving only an ashy shell of bitterness and anger. That had been a terrible experience, and she had made up her mind never to go through it again. She didn’t rule out marrying for love, but there had to be financial security as well. She was afraid she sounded hard, but she could not endure the kind of pain she had endured before. She got all shaky-voiced and teary-eyed when she spoke of it. She would not, she said, risk the unbearably sad and depressing dissolution of another love affair because of a lack of money.
Strangely, her determination to marry for money did not decrease Frank’s respect for her or dampen his ardor. Because he had been lonely for so long, he was eager to continue their relationship, even if he had to wear the biggest pair of rose-colored glasses ever made in order to maintain the illusion of romance. He revealed his financial situation to her, virtually begged her to look at his savings account passbook and short-term certificates of deposit which totaled nearly thirty-two thousand dollars. He told her what his salary was and carefully explained that he would be able to retire fairly young with a fine pension, young enough to use some of their savings to start a small business and earn even more money. If security was what she wanted, he was her man.
Thirty-two thousand dollars and a police pension were not sufficient for Wilma Compton. “I mean,” she said, “it’s a good little piece of change, but then you don’t own a house or anything, Frank.” She fingered the savings account passbooks for a long moment, as if receiving sexual pleasure from them, but then she handed them back and said, “Sorry, Frank. But I want to shoot for something better than this. I’m still young, and I look five years younger than I really am. I have some time yet, a little more time to look around. And I’m afraid that even thirty-two thousand isn’t a big bankroll these days. I’m afraid it might not be enough to get us through some crisis. And I won’t go into something with you if there’s a chance it could … get hateful … and mean … like it did the last time I was married.”
He was crushed.
“Christ, I was acting like such a fool!” Frank wailed, pounding one fist into the table to emphasize his foolishness. “I had made up my mind that she was exactly like Barbara Ann, something special, someone rare and precious. No matter what she did, not matter how crude she was or how coarse or how unfeeling, I made excuses for her. Lovely excuses. Dandy, elaborate, creative excuses. Stupid. I was stupid, stupid, dumb as a jackass. Jesus!”
“What you did was understandable,” Tony said.
“It was stupid.”
“You were alone a long, long time,” Tony said. “You had such a wonderful two years with Barbara Ann that you thought you’d never have anything half as good again, and you didn’t want to settle for less. So you shut out the world. You convinced yourself that you didn’t need anyone. But we all need someone, Frank. We all need people to care about. A hunger for love and comradeship is as natural to our species as the requirement for food and water. So the need built up inside of you all those years, and when you saw someone who resembled Barbara Ann, when you saw Wilma, you couldn’t keep that need bottled up any longer. Nineteen years of wanting and needing came bubbling out of you all at once. You were bound to act kind of crazy. It would have been nice if Wilma had turned out to be a good woman who deserved what you had to offer. But you know, actually, it’s surprising someone like Wilma didn’t get her claws into you years ago.”