Authors: Jackie Pilossoph
So, a couple days later, I stopped by the hospital with pink roses and a card that read, “Dr. Kleinberg, thanks for fixing my chin. How about dinner?” And that’s how our relationship was born. We began seeing each other, and what was so nice about it was that Connie’s busy work schedule set the slow pace of the relationship. She worked so much that we were only able to get together once a week at the most.
It was so refreshing. For a change, it wasn’t me who wanted to keep things non-serious. Connie was living her own life. She didn’t care if I called or not, but she was happy when I did. She didn’t care if I saw other women. She saw other men (I think). She didn’t care if I didn’t say “I love you.” She didn’t want to be in love. Connie had been very clear on all this. And it bothered me a little bit, but not because I wasn’t enjoying the freedom. It just seemed strange to me. No girl had ever been so non-demanding. Did I like it? I wasn’t sure.
Our relationship continued like this for a few months, until we both realized we were best as friends. Connie had met a guy who she told me she could possibly see a future with, and as for me, well, is there really any explanation needed? I was just being myself, and I didn’t want a future with anyone. I respected Connie and liked spending time with her, but I was okay with helping her to move on and see if she could find happiness with the other guy, who seemed to want something more serious. In the end, neither of us walked away hurt.
Over the next few years, Connie and I would call each other sporadically and get together whenever neither of us was involved in another relationship, which was usually the case for me. We always had fun with each other, and always had good sex. And Connie never had expectations about where our relationship was headed. That’s why it wasn’t difficult for her to become date number three. I already liked her, and even better, I knew I could get her into bed. I also knew Connie wasn’t on the pill. I had always used condoms when we were together. If I was lucky enough to sleep with her this time, I’d have to figure out a way not to use one.
Connie was a bit surprised to hear from me, because the two of us had hadn’t talked in almost a year. Still, she was friendly and I figured she wasn’t seeing anyone at the present time because she was very receptive to the idea of going out with me.
We had dinner at
MON AMI GABI,
a casual French place, and then headed to Connie’s place, for what we both knew was going to happen because it happened every time we got together; sex, sex and more sex. Less than a minute after we were in the door, Connie flipped on her stereo and put on a Lady Gaga CD. Then she began doing a striptease act to the song,
Paparazzi.
All I could do was laugh. I’d forgotten how hot Connie was. My smart doctor friend had a beautiful body and she knew how to seduce me like no one else. What a bonus. In addition to making me a wealthy man, what was about to happen was going to be fun!
I sat there enjoying the show, watching the gorgeous future mother of my child, dressed only in a black lace bra, matching thong underwear, and black sandals with three inch heels, dance to the music and attempt to drive me insane with her seductive moves.
I was practically bursting with excitement, when all of a sudden, someone else popped into my head. Another woman, who I’d recently seen dancing, a woman who wasn’t half naked, and who instead of a striptease act was dancing to
Fire Burning.
Suddenly, I got really sad. My sweet, sexy Sean Kingston wannabe. Oh, how I missed her. I could feel my smile fade as my heart began to physically ache, something that had never, ever happened to me before.
Connie noticed the change in me and immediately rushed over, knelt down next to me, and grabbed my hands.
“Danny, honey, what’s the matter?” she asked with urgency in her voice. She was sincerely concerned. As much of a sexual relationship as ours was, we really did have a genuine friendship as well, and I knew Connie cared about me.
‘Don’t blow it dude,’ I thought to myself. “Nothing sweetie, keep going,” I said, trying to smile but dying inside.
Connie sat down next to me on the couch. “Please tell me. Is it another girl?” She was now running her fingers through my hair.
“No, nothing like that,” I faked, “It’s just…I missed you, Connie.” Then I began to kiss her. And as we made our way into the bedroom, I forced myself to get Courtney out of my mind momentarily, and focus on getting Connie pregnant. I felt badly for lying to the woman I was about to sleep with, but I didn’t want to complicate things. Not with everything going so perfectly.
Once we reached the bed, Connie pushed me down onto it and then went to her dresser drawer for what I assumed was a condom. How the hell was I going to get out of using birth control? I wondered. I pondered the idea of just coming clean. Why not just tell Connie what happened with my mother and see if she’d be on board with having my baby? For all I knew, she’d be fine with it. Then again, if she said no, it was all over. I had no clue how Connie would react, so I decided to continue conning her, no pun intended.
“Hey Con…” I began, as I watched her search through her drawer.
“Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if we skipped the condom tonight?”
Connie turned around and giggled. “Well, actually, we’re going to have to. I don’t have any.”
How lucky could a guy get? “Do YOU have any?” she asked me.
“Me? No. None.”
“Well, then, I guess I need to ask you, do you have any STD’s?” she asked.
“No, do you?”
Connie shook her head. This was working out unbelievably well for me. What happened next practically sent me over the edge. “Danny,” she said, “if for some reason I get pregnant tonight, are you ready to be a father?”
I began to stutter, trying to figure out exactly how to answer that question.
Connie giggled, “I’m just kidding.”
Everything was perfect. I was about to make love to this beautiful woman and hopefully make a baby. I was going to get Frankie’s money. I could feel it. And yes, there was Courtney again, popping up in my mind every two seconds. I was actually getting kind of pissed at her for stealing my heart. She had no right to come into my life right now! So I told her that.
“Get out!” I shouted. I didn’t realize I said it out loud.
“What?” said Connie.
“Uh…” I scrambled, “Get out of those underwear right now!” I shouted.
Connie burst out laughing and took off her bra and underwear. We began to kiss and all I could hear was heavy breathing, both hers and mine. Breathing and kissing and more breathing, and moaning, and more kissing and more breathing… And then I heard another noise; a beeper.
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Connie, jumping out of bed and grabbing the pager off her dresser. She looked at the number. “I can’t believe this!”
“What?” I asked, sitting up in bed.
Connie looked around the room, picked up a pair of old jeans that were lying on the ground, and began to put them on.
“There’s an emergency at the hospital,” she said.
In my life, I don’t think I’ve ever seen, to this day, a person get dressed faster. Not even myself, during all those times I wanted out of some random girl’s apartment before she woke up the next morning.
“Should I…wait here?” I asked.
Connie leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I wouldn’t. I’m sure I’ll be there all night.”
“Can we get together tomorrow night?” I asked in a slightly desperate tone.
Connie grabbed a bag off her dresser and put it over her shoulder. “Danny, I’m leaving tomorrow for California for a fellowship for four months. I was going to tell you but…”
“Wow,” I said, trying to absorb the shock.
“I’ll call you when I get back,” she said, “Is that okay?”
Now I was almost numb. “Sure…”
Connie paused for one more second. “Bummer, huh?” she asked with a sad smile.
I nodded and then she blew me a kiss and was gone. As I lay there in bed, I was thinking two things. First, was I ever going to get laid again, let alone get someone pregnant? And two, how had I not noticed all the suitcases lined up at the bedroom door?
Three dates. No babies. I could only think of two words. Still in Connie’s bed, I yelled them out as loud as I could, attempting to sound like the Chicago Cubs umpire.
“Strike three!”
The same week Danny went out on his three dates, I was with my new man. While Danny was having dinner with Janine, I was at a bowling alley with Drew (his idea, of course). While Danny was being punched by Ronna’s boyfriend, I was sitting in the
Cadillac Theater
with Drew watching
Jersey Boys
, the tickets compliments of WGB. And while Danny was viewing Connie’s striptease act and flipping out about Courtney, Drew and I were watching
The Godfather, II
at my place (definitely my idea).
Drew had called and asked if I wanted to go out for Mexican.
“I’m sick of going out,” I said, “I have a better idea.”
So instead of munching on chips and salsa, we ate popcorn, sat in front of my flat screen and watched
The Godfather
,
The Godfather, II
, and
The Godfather, III
. It was fun to have someone to veg out with. I’d never done it with John, because he was too busy going out and cheating on me. As far as Max, he always fell asleep ten minutes after hitting the couch. I could honestly say the entire time I dated Max, I watched every movie we rented by myself, constantly turning the volume up and down, depending on how loud he was snoring.
While Drew and I watched the movie, we gave each other back rubs. As I watched Robert Dinero (as young Vito Corleone) go back to his hometown in Italy and shoot the guy who killed his family, I could feel my boyfriend’s hands deeply massaging the muscles in between my shoulder blades. It was hard to concentrate on the movie, since all that was going through my head was how much I loved it when this guy touched me.
I was so happy these days. But I was completely conflicted because of the guilt I felt. Yes, I was in a relationship, but it was a relationship based on a lie. Drew genuinely believed our feelings for each other had developed through fate, while in reality he was part of a plot, a greedy scheme.
As he continued to press his fingers deeply into my back, I thought about blurting out what was going on and confessing about the whole baby bribe. I couldn’t, though. I knew that Drew wasn’t the kind of guy who would have a child for money. He was too ethical. And it bugged me and attracted me at the same time. If he would agree to go along with the plan, my problems would be solved. But I knew he wouldn’t, and I respected him immensely for that, which pretty much made me hate myself even more.
With this thought, I turned around, put my arms around him, and began to kiss him. Drew slipped my sweater over my head, and just before he was about to kiss me again he put his hands on my rib cage, looked at my semi-naked body and whispered, “God, you are so beautiful.”
I literally lost my breath for a second. And then I kissed him as hard as I possibly could. I wanted him desperately, this man who I had never let myself know until now. He was everything. He made me feel sexy. He made me feel good about myself. He made me like myself. And he paid attention to what I wanted and needed. No one had ever loved me like this. To John, I was a roommate. To Max, I was a trophy. To Drew, well, I was starting to feel somewhere in between his best friend and his sexpot. It was strange. It was all there, the physical attraction and the friendship. And it was the best feeling in the world.
We made love on my living room floor while Michael Corleone was kissing his brother Fredo on the lips and saying, “I knew it was you Fredo…you broke my heart.” We’d been having sex all week, but for some reason tonight seemed more intense. It meant more.