An Independent Woman by Howard Fast

do not choose to reply to it, I will understand.
    It was signed, “Sincerely, Philip Carter.” His telephone number was at the bottom of the page.
    Barbara read the letter again, certainly the most stilted, old-fashioned letter she had received in years. What on earth have I gotten myself into? she wondered. The man wants to date me. If I read this curious letter right, he’s scared to death. Afraid to leave a message because he feels I wouldn’t return his call. Yet when we spoke, he appeared to be a perfectly normal person. What do I do, throw it away, ignore it? A Unitarian minister. I still have no real idea of what a Unitarian is. Does he hope to convert me? I’m not convertible to anything . She thought of the old saw about Unitarians—irritate them too much, and they’ll burn a question mark on your front lawn. This is all ridiculous , she told herself. I’m an old, white-haired lady of sixty-nine years, and the last thing in the world I desire is another man in my life. I want to live quietly, write my book—no, no, that’s an absolute lie. The last thing in the world I want is to live quietly. Next to the last thing in the world I want to do is to get involved with a minister. And I am not lonely. I am baby-sitting for Sam and Mary Lou tonight… They have a perfectly competent maid who gets two nights off a week, but they can’t stay home two nights a week. This city teems with high school girls who would be delighted to sit with their brat. No, she isn’t a brat. What’s happened to me? I never used that word before. But it has to be me, Grandma Barbara. How I hate that! Grandma Barbara. They bury you as soon as you turn sixty .
    She walked through the house, long, stamping strides. Why do I stay in this ridiculous old shack? Why don’t I go to England? I haven’t been to England in years. Why don’t I go to Australia? I’ve never been to Australia .
    She picked up the telephone and called Eloise. “Eloise,” Barbara said abruptly, “would you go to Australia?”
    â€œWhat on earth for?”
    â€œWith me. Would Adam let you?”
    â€œAdam is not my keeper. Why on earth do you want to go to Australia?”
    â€œI’ve never been there.”
    â€œThat’s no reason. I’ve never been to Syria, and I certainly don’t want to go there. Barbara, you’re babbling. What is wrong with you?”
    â€œI have a letter. I want to read it to you.” Then she read the letter to Eloise, and Eloise replied that it was a lovely letter.
    â€œYou don’t think it’s absurd?”
    â€œNo. The man wants to have dinner with you. It’s a perfectly nice, decent letter. He’s the minister at the church you went to, isn’t he? He says he’s a single, lonely man. Why shouldn’t you have dinner with him?… Does this have anything to do with your trip to Australia?”
    â€œNo. I’m not going to Australia.”
    â€œWhy? Because I won’t go with you? Barbara, dear, I’d love to go somewhere—but Australia?”
    â€œNo, no, I’m sorry, darling. I’m not myself.”
    â€œBarbara—”
    â€œI’m perfectly all right,” Barbara assured her. “This whole thing about Australia is just a crazy notion.”
    â€œBarbara, do you want me to drive in and talk to you?”
    â€œNo, I’m fine.”
    Or am I? she asked herself as she put down the telephone. She picked up the letter again. Then she dialed the number of the Unitarian church. A woman’s voice answered, and Barbara tried to remember her name—Reba something.
    She told Reba-something her name and asked whether she could speak to Philip Carter.
    â€œGive me a moment, Ms. Lavette, he’s staining a rostrum.” And then Barbara heard her shout, “Phil, I have Barbara Lavette on the telephone!”
    A few seconds went by, and then he was on the phone.