The Big "O": A Romantic Comedy (4 page)

Juliette grinned and gave the Yoda toy to the toddler. He was adorable, his little chubby arms and cheeky smile. He held the small toy firmly and looked at it happily. Emily watched and felt her heart lift further, seeing how much her friends loved her baby.

“Yoda,” said Baby Max. Emily pulled herself together. Somehow, having another friend there and letting Isis in on some of her concerns had made her feel a million times better. Whatever people said, love, not money, really did make the world go round.

“Chillax. Women working on a dissertation get a free pass,” Emily said to Juliette.

“How's that going?” Isis asked with interest.

It fascinated her how people could be obsessed by things, such as the abstract world of academia, that she herself didn't care about. I could get interested in career clothing lines for brilliant and beautiful academics, she realized. Hmmm. And what about a line of eyeglasses, for the intellectual, research-oriented, well-read academic world. She immediately imagined a line of eyeglasses in chic tortoiseshell.

“It's going. How're you two doing?” Juliette asked and sighed.

“I’ve been better,” Emily replied honestly and Juliette nodded in response, “but honestly it's amazing to have you two here.” Juliette and Isis smiled at her and she smiled back; they could feel how much Emily loved their little sisterhood of three.

Truth be told, Juliette also felt like the three of them were more sisters than friends.

Juliette would do anything for the other two women and their men. She had no other family, her parents and little brother had died in a car accident years ago and she still felt the loss after all the years. As stressful as it was to be away from her work, knowing that every minute spent on fun was a minute that she was failing to make progress on completing her thesis, she craved the camaraderie that they shared together.

Emily surveyed the food one more time, then went to the refrigerator and grabbed a pitcher of lemonade and another container of iced tea and put them on the table.

“I'm getting my cuddle fix,” Isis said and grinned. Emily looked around a final time then, and satisfied that things were ready, she turned to her friends.

“Ready to head to the backyard?” Emily asked, “We'll have to take a couple of trips.”

Isis handed baby Max to Juliette and she and Emily loaded the appetizing food onto several trays. Isis and Emily filled both arms then the four of them headed out to the backyard. The delicious scent of grilling vegetable skewers filled the air.

The guys fell silent as the girls came outside. Emily and Isis put the food onto the patio table. Victor stared at Juliette; she looked unbelievably sweet holding the baby. It almost took his breath away. God, how he wanted to make her happy.

Edwin blew a kiss to Isis. She caught it and giggled. Lost in thought, Max didn't acknowledge Emily. No one else seemed to notice but Emily and Isis.

Emily turned her back on the guys and started to toss the salad and tried not to cry. Isis came up beside her and tried to help. She wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't want to sound flippant about it as Emily was obviously deeply upset.

“See what I mean? It's so embarrassing,” Emily said, barely holding it together as she tossed the bright green lettuce with raspberries, slivered almonds, capers, and artichoke hearts and a raspberry vinaigrette. Isis nodded and quickly squeezed Emily’s hand.

“We need to talk
un peu deu
. The salad can wait,” Isis whispered. Emily nodded, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. Isis took baby Max to Max Sr. Edwin was flipping burgers. Victor was well on his way to being trashed.

“Here, daddy,” Isis said to Max as she handed the baby over. The baby pointed at the burgers as his father took him into his arms.

“Boeuf, bouef,” said the baby. Max senior beamed then chuckled to hear his little boy struggle to name the meat. His son was adorable. The lightness of the moment made Max feel as if he could forget their business and book issues, at least for the afternoon. Max nuzzled his child and kissed his sweet-smelling cheek.

“Wrong, silly boy. It's beef,” Max said, laughing happily.

“No, daddy's wrong,” Isis said to baby Max, “…because you're speaking French, aren't you bébé?” Baby Max laughed and pointed at the burgers on the grill. Emily watched the interaction as she and Juliette ferried out the trays with the rest of the food.

“What?” Max asked in a wheeling voice, that sounded slightly pathetic to him. His own tone of voice made him feel weak; he hoped that Isis was joking.

“He's saying ‘bouef’, not beef,” Isis said drily to Max and grinned to herself.

It was so funny, people who acted like they knew everything, and lorded their knowledge over others. Isis had observed that such people often really didn't know all that much. Isis liked Max, maybe even loved him a little, but damn wasn't the man annoying at times. She remembered long weekends, before the toddler arrived, when the six of them had played trivia games and snacked on junk food and drank for hours.

Max had often been dead certain that he knew some obscure fact that, in actuality, he did not know. Isis noticed that her educating Max wasn't based in a love of truth and knowledge. She found that she instead wanted to take Max down a notch, since he was being such a crap husband to Emily lately.

Max’s face fell. He was clearly entirely bummed to discover that he himself was "wrong." Isis wandered off back to where the other women were.

Max felt even worse when he realized that, not only was he wrong, but he was too stupid to recognize that his child was some kind of baby genius with a gift for languages. The kid was learning to speak both English and French.

How he regretted not continuing with Spanish or French. Well, too late now.

Max juggled the baby and turned to the guys. He didn’t catch their entire conversation but it sounded like Vic was admitting to some kind of marital issues with Juliette. Edwin was keeping a close watch on the grill and Vic, his face red and sweating, almost looked on the verge of tears. What were the guys talking about?

Max juggled his child and felt irritation that this evening—instead of being the kind of fun get-together that the six of them used to have—was a bit torturous. To be fair, they were adults now, building families, well, except for Edwin and Isis, and they now had a lot more responsibility than they ever had.

Still, growing up was turning out to be a kind of shitty, stressful deal… no wonder his dad had always been so stressed out and such a crab. He thought of all those times when he or his sister would ask his dad for the car, gas money, or some cash, without giving a second thought to whether or not his dad could afford it, and he felt a burst of compassion for his father. I've been a selfish little prick, he realized.

“Bouef,” baby Max said happily and Max could have cried from the stress.

“You think you got problems with Juliette, Vic?” Max said.

He interrupted Victor’s monologue about some top-secret issue, that he really didn’t have a handle on, maybe bedroom issues, because he just couldn’t take it anymore. The money. The book. The baby. All too much. He decided to unload on his friends.

“That's nothing. You can learn to please your woman, but I'm seriously up the creek,” Max said. He balanced and turned the baby around, so that he could keep his grip while at the same time covering his baby’s ears. Victor, miffed to be interrupted, and the always unflappable Edwin, turned to listen to Max’s words.

“My kid's handing me my ass in the language department, I don't even want to speculate about latent math abilities which have yet to emerge,” Max said flatly and surveyed his back yard. Right away he noticed that he'd forgotten to fix the patio pavers, that the landscaping was looking especially tired and sad, and that their patio furniture, including the umbrella, was old and out-of-date.

“Are you for fucking real?” Victor asked.

He was so surprised that his own concerns fled his mind. He could immediately understand the issue, hell, half the time he felt stupid around Juliette. Sure, their IQs were probably pretty similar but she used hers in ways that were so obviously much more practical and meaningful. Her research in human brain development could break new ground and benefit all of humanity.

Meanwhile, he used his intellect to maximize investment returns on the stock market, all from his home computer, and enjoy modern pop culture's finest entertainment. He literally sat around in his boxers most days, keeping one eye on the market and the other on his current video game, film, TV series, comic book or whatever. When the time was right, he'd make a trade, buy or sell, and eat cereal while the money flowed in.

“Vic, no swearing around the little dude. You know that,” Edwin said.

“His ears are covered,” Victor replied.

“He reads lips,” Max said sternly. Victor, impressed, moved to the other side of the Bar-B-Q and stood at an angle so that baby Max couldn't see his mouth.

“No shit?” Victor mouthed to Max. Max nodded and frowned.

“But he's not even in school, yet,” Edwin said calmly with authority, as if that negated what Max had stated about his toddler. Max rolled his eyes and Victor felt his sympathy grow. Obviously, Edwin was ignorant of how human intellect evolved.

“He's learning French and English naturally, from exposure I guess, and I'm pretty sure he can count. He's been learning sign language since birth, because we chose to teach him. He'll probably outpace me in a couple years,” Max said solemnly.

Victor and Edwin looked from Max to baby Max. Victor noticed that the girls seemed to have nearly finished setting up the rest of the food on the patio.

“I’m just guessing really,” Max said, “My own intelligence is probably high average… so maybe he’ll blow me away when he’s closer to five or six. Who knows, really?” Max's face looked glum.

“That'll suck, man,” Victor said sympathetically. Max felt a wave of despair when Victor didn’t even try to argue with him. God, it must be obvious to everyone that he was a dud.

“I'm an idiot,” Max said. As much as it felt good to bare his soul to somebody, he had the feeling that Edwin, in particular, was unable to relate.

“No, you're a smart guy,” Edwin said rationally with as much emotion as he could muster. Honestly, he couldn't really fathom what the big deal was... didn't Max want his kid to be smarter than himself? Edwin knew that in his family parents not only wanted, but expected, their children to reach higher levels of success, to be more evolved, to excel beyond what they themselves had achieved. It was positively Darwinian and it felt natural to him.

“A smart guy could be an idiot compared to a genius,” Victor said thoughtfully.

Max felt even lower. It was entirely true. A reasonably smart dude had nothing on a real Mensa-level brilliant mind. What the heck were he and Emily going to do with their child? Try not to embarrass the kid, for starters, he thought. I've got to earn more money. Figure out the book thing. Get the kid the right education. He felt sicker by the moment, realizing that this “good thing” was another serious life stressor.

Max looked back at the patio and was surprised to see that Emily and Isis were no longer visible, they must have gone back inside. Juliette was there all alone.

I
N THE SIDE garden, in a tiny alcove adjacent to the house, Emily wept while Isis patted her arm. Seated on a small bench, they were almost entirely hidden from the others.

“I can barely fit in my fat clothes, and he's always busy,” Emily said. She was almost breathless with emotion and her face was wet with tears. She hunched over in intense pain at the thought that Max didn't love her anymore. Maybe he never had.

She shut her eyes to try and escape the pain. Instead, behind her closed eyelids, she saw herself divorced and abandoned with little Max in her arms, worried about money, lonely and still pining for her former husband.

“Shhhh. It's going to be okay. He really loves you,” Isis said and did her best to console her friend. Emily cried harder and tried to feel her husband's love for her, which she'd mostly enjoyed but taken for granted since he fell for her, but, instead, felt nothing.

On the other side of the back yard, Juliette approached the guys and took baby Max. Edwin was very carefully removing the last bit of food from the grill and placing it on a serving tray.

Victor felt such shame over the revelations of the previous night that he could hardly look at Juliette, although he had begun to obsessively think about sex. He was not thinking of kinky, weird, or any type of unusual sex.

He was straining his memory to think of all the times that they'd had sex in the last year. Sex had always seemed fine between them. One of them initiated it, mostly him, if he recalled correctly, then they did it and the deed was done. It had always seemed fine.

Juliette had never rebuffed him, nor used sex to try and control him.

They had sex in spurts, depending upon their schedules. They never went longer than a week and sometimes had sex every day for a while. He thought about their honeymoon where the sex had been especially sweet and often had occurred twice a day.

He'd felt so vulnerable with Juliette. He really trusted her and knew that the two of them loved each other very deeply. They'd taken romantic walks on the beach. It had been beautiful. Never once had she indicated that she wasn't pleasured by their lovemaking. What kind of shit was he that he hadn't notice or wondered about whether or not he pleased her in bed?

Now why the fuck couldn't they pleasure each other very deeply? He almost sobbed, as that thought crossed his mind, because it was clear to him that Juliette actually did pleasure him very deeply. It was he that had been unable to pleasure her.

I have to man up on this issue, he decided as he watched his wife speak to Max.

“The meat and non-meat are both ready,” Max said.

Juliette pointed in the general direction of where Emily and Isis were in a huddle. The guys all turned to look. They hadn’t noticed the two women going off to have a private conversation. Emily's shoulders were shaking; it didn't look like she was laughing.

The guys looked at each other.

“Five more minutes, okay?” Juliette said and then took baby Max and went to sit on a somewhat broken down chaise lounge several yards away.

“Great, they're having a heart-to-heart and we have to wait to eat,” Max said bitterly. He hated that they weren’t going to eat right away.

The food was just off of the grill and wouldn’t keep well.

In that moment he was struck by how much he sounded like his father. He had compassion for his dad, finally, for the first time in his life, realizing the stress that went along with being the man of the family. Yet, he also felt like he was recognizing for the first time that, underneath his more happy-go-lucky generous nature, that he actually had a penny-pinching negative and fearful nature, just like his father.

He'd always been irritated by the man's approach to money and life.

Emily's probably getting an update on Isis's efforts to get a ring out of me. She's obsessed,” Edwin said to try and distract Max.

He could see very well that Emily was crying, maybe even sobbing about something. He really and truly loved Isis yet the sight of Emily bawling her eyes out made him worry about what married life might be like.

Then again, he realized, that maybe it was a money thing and about the kid. He knew that he and Isis would never have financial problems and she seemed to be open about having children. He knew that his parents expected them to reproduce. It would either happen naturally and easily or it wouldn't. His older brother and his wife didn't have kids.

“It's gotta be a chick conversation. Probably,” Edwin said.

Max had a hard timing focusing on Edwin’s words. He wiped the sweat from his brow, the afternoon sun seemed to be beating down upon them, and pondered whether or not he was a Scrooge-like spendthrift or whether he was being a rational, mature adult with an increasing, yet quite normal, focus upon money.

Was it normal to be obsessing about how much he was contributing in situations, how much others were contributing, and what it would take to adjust his financial situation?

He didn’t want to be an asshole about money. He didn’t want to nickel and dime his friends. But he didn’t know how he was going to resolve his money stuff. Come to think of it, he realized he didn’t know how to resolve the stuff going on with his kid who was apparently a baby genius.

He also didn’t know how to resolve things with his wife, who seemed to be distant and not the fun, self-assured, sexy woman, with whom he had fallen in love. She had gotten frumpy and well, he hated to think it about her, and a bit bitchy. She often seemed to be nagging and complaining and he was getting sick of it. He already felt like a shitty husband and father and she was rubbing his nose in it.

Edwin assessed Max's frown and decided that the present wasn't time for a pep talk.

Max frowned to see his wife blubbering to Isis. Why the hell didn’t Emily get up off of her ass, stop stuffing her face all day, and start kicking his ass in business and in life? Why couldn't she be the woman that she’d been in their MBA program?

Emily had been his only real competition in school, vying for the top spot, and often getting it, in their business classes. She’d practically, well if he was being honest, she’d actually kicked his ass in their first real business world jobs, too. What had happened to his wife? Had having their son wrecked her physically and emotionally?

Max glanced over and saw that Isis and Emily were exiting the backyard garden alcove and breathed a sigh of relief. Finally.

Emily came right over and took baby Max from Juliette. The women went to the patio table and started passing the food serving plates. Max motioned to Edwin and Victor and scooped up the plates of meat and veggies from the grill.

Victor, who had a platter of food in one hand a drink in the other, was, Max noticed, knocking drinks back like they were water.

Max felt his tension release significantly, now that they were going to eat.

He watched Edwin carrying his platter of food as carefully as if it were a velvet pillow holding Cinderella’s glass slipper. Max grinned. That was seriously wound up. He could see why the man was hot for Isis. She was his wild female opposite.

Max made sure everybody had drinks. Victor, a bit out of character for the dude, cuddled up next to Juliette and drank like he was suddenly back in college. It was almost funny to see him tossing the liquor back as if it were soda pop.

The six of them, guys and girls both, were finally laughing and talking and eating like old times. Baby Max, holding his Yoda toy, fell asleep in Emily's arms.

The late afternoon was bathed in a haze of golden California sunshine.

The exotic semi-tropical plants and green grass of the yard seemed more lush against the cerulean blue cloudless sky at that time of day. The beauty of the end of the day, and the pretty pots of bright red, yellow, white, and purple flowers, that Emily had created, helped Max forget that he should be taking better care of his house and yard and, somehow, become a smarter, better, person, and earn more money.

Emily brought out coffee and serving trays with a variety of gourmet desserts, chocolates, petit fours, tiny handmade chocolates, and more. The group of friends enjoyed the sweetness of the treats as the sun faded and the day slid into evening.

Finally everybody left and both Emily and Max breathed a sigh of relief.

Max bathed and changed baby Max and then took him to say goodnight to mommy. The child was overly tired and, as he rubbed his eyes, Max couldn’t help but notice how his toddler looked a bit like a tiny, tired, little old man.

Max took the little guy to his room, sat with him in the rocking chair and read him a story, and then put him in his crib.

Meanwhile, Emily carried food and plates, beer bottles and wine glasses, into the house. She thought about all of the kind and empathetic things that Isis had said to her. That girl was really cool and was totally under-employed in her hospital job. Emily knew that Isis had other dreams but that it was very hard for her, if not impossible, to give up the day job. Something about the instability of self-employment income, Isis had said.

Emily could entirely understand. She knew firsthand about the unreliability of self-employment income. As she tracked their finances each month, it didn't matter that she and Max were under-earning and that they had great potential to accomplish and achieve more, financially and otherwise. What mattered was that she could entirely understand that a cushy, dependable day job would be a seductive thing.

What wouldn't she do for a steady source of income? Traitor, she told herself.

Max would be angry to hear her thoughts. In his opinion, you either did something wholeheartedly or you didn't do it at all. You either had the guts to go all in or you didn't play the game. She was very careful to avoid sharing fears or concerns with her husband; he interpreted such things as lack of belief in him.

Carrying the last of the wine glasses back into the kitchen, she thought about how tough things were for her and Max right then.

Maybe Isis shouldn’t give up her day job, given what she and Max were going through to make a go of things in business for themselves. Then again, she thought, maybe
things
would get better. Isis had reminded her that there were things within her control, aspects of her personal and professional life which she had a shot at influencing, however hard it was to make an effort and try to impact her life.

Max ambled in. He didn’t sneak up on her at the sink, the way he did so often when she was pregnant, or like when they were single, doing stuff in the kitchen. A part of her felt like shrinking. Instead, using all of her will power, she grabbed Max, hugged him tight, and gave him a kiss.

He laughed, surprised, and hugged her back even tighter. A part of her heart melted. His happy response to her initiative surprised her and made her feel that she shouldn't make him do all of the relationship work. She'd have to try and be more spontaneous.

“Thank you for putting the little guy down,” she said.

“I always do,” Max said with surprise. She grinned.

“But I don’t always thank you,” she said, “…and I’m really grateful. It gives me a minute to think and tidy up.” He smiled. Max washed dishes. Emily dried.

He always did put the little guy down, for the most part, and he helped her in the kitchen, too. She was feeling more positive all of a sudden and smiled. I should take the initiative in the bedroom, so what if I’m not as fit, she thought.

Her mind raced, trying to think of new things that she could try in order to handle all of their problems; the actions that she could personally take, the things that she had control over. She felt warm inside. She felt optimistic, hopeful, and a bit more like her old self.

She smiled. In one moment she went from feeling exhausted to refreshed. She thought about the evening, the friendliness and affection of their closest friends, the chatting, laughter, and the warmth of spending time with people who really knew and liked her.

“That was fun,” Emily said and to her surprise Max, lost in thoughts of his own, didn’t reply. She felt a burst of the rage that had been her recent emotional companion.

“That was fun,” she repeated and she was ashamed to note that she was back on the edge and her voice had more than a little tinge of spite in it.

When did a bad mood, perpetually irritable and cranky, become my default emotional state? she wondered. She was getting downright sick of feeling malicious and spiteful and she knew that Max must feel that she was generally obnoxious and overbearing.

“Uh-huh,” Max said finally. It was as if he was under water and couldn’t even hear her. It highly irritated Emily to realize that it was like she wasn't even there.

“We should do it more often,” Emily added and she felt ill at the strident tone obvious in her voice. Emily felt all of her energy and happiness slipping away from her.

“Uh-huh,” he repeated. Max was obviously distracted; Emily took it personally.

“Listen,” Max said casually, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe, we need to stop stimulating the little guy, until we better understand what’s going on with his intellect.”

Emily was shocked. She stared at her husband. Was he serious?

Their kid’s intellect was the one thing that was going right. The house needed work. Their second book was taking far to long too write. Some days the book outline didn't even make sense or seem all that great to her. She was fat and tired. They had next to no sex life. Money was becoming a serious issue. Their brilliant baby was a bright spot in an otherwise dreary I-don't-see-it-getting-better-anytime-soon life.

He avoided her gaze. He was serious. It made her feel a little sick to know that Max’s self-esteem was so low that he would hamstring their kid.

“Alright?” Max asked and Emily blinked. She struggled to think of a response that wouldn't set her husband off. She suddenly wanted to lie down.

“I hear you,” Emily said carefully.

Her face felt unusually warm and she was certain that she had flushed crimson.

Max didn't seem to notice her expression and seemed to accept her response as her agreement. He turned and left the room. Emily was horrified by their lack of communication. No way, she thought to herself, quite distraught, there is no way that I'm shortchanging my son because his father has issues.