The Big "O": A Romantic Comedy (5 page)

Edwin's place and living room, like him, was classy and perfectly tidy.

The décor was all frosted glass framed with silver brushed steel, pale bleached wood floors and matching book-filled shelving, rich, supple hand tooled dark brown and red leather, paintings and drawings that were obviously original works of valuable art.

Victor, Edwin and Max sat on the couch. Max flipped channels, barely looking at Edwin’s massive 110” flat screen TV. Victor, a beer in hand, was clearly seriously hung-over and still depressed.

“Everything okay, fella?” Edwin asked Victor kindly.

“He ODed on booze last night. Never a good sign,” Max replied in a put on especially saddened tone of voice.

“Fuck you,” Victor said. Max grinned and winked at Edwin. He and Victor had been best friends since forever. Had it been elementary school when they'd met? He couldn't really remember.

“Is something wrong?” Edwin asked kindly.

There was a long and totally awkward pause. Victor looked at the ceiling. Edwin and Max finally exchanged a glance.

“If you don't mind, it's private, assholes,” Victor replied.

“What is it? That crap you alluded to last night, without ever saying anything of any actual meaning?” Max asked at the same time as Edwin asked if anyone needed anything. Edwin didn't get Victor's bitter, really acerbic, sense of humor in the way that Max did. Victor had a good heart. He had a very particular personality, which wasn't well-received by everyone, yet his heart was in the right place.

“You can trust us. Is it work?” Edwin asked in a sudden frantic rush.

“Don’t you remember? It was something to do with his Jewels of the Nile,” Max said, “or maybe his Romancing his Stone Cold Fox.”

“My issue, not to sound like I don't give a shit about Maxick’s aforementioned issues, of money and baby brilliance, and not to sound like I could give a fuck about your deal—meaning situation—with the ever-controlling goddess of nature and magic, heretofore in this incarnation known as your girlfriend, and not to sound uncaring of the pathos of the world at large, and humanity in specific, is that I'm a fucking failure… with my wife,” Victor said. He stared at them. They clearly did not get his meaning.

“…I can't give Juliette the Big “O,” you assholes,” Victor clarified unhappily.

Edwin and Max took a moment to decipher this.

“Oh,” they said at the same time.

“Juliette... ...she's never, uh, climaxed?” Edwin asked oh-so-carefully.

Victor’s words were like a Jedi mind-wipe; all of Max’s own issues and concerns slipped entirely from his consciousness.

He was shocked. How could it be that his virile, often-profane, guy's-guy, close friend, always vocal about his love of sex, who'd had his pick of the ladies since they were undergrads, be struggling in the sack? It blew Max's mind.

“Never?” Max echoed and looked at Victor.

“Uh, apparently, not with me,” Victor said very quietly.

“Ever?” Max managed to inquire. He wanted to be delicate, for two reasons. One, male sexual issues could affect one’s sense of masculinity and he didn't want Vic to think he was questioning his manhood. Two, Vic could be a real hard-ass. He didn’t want to be attacked by approaching the discussion in the wrong way.

Victor shook his head, "No."

“Have you considered ordering in a new supply of that libido enhancing stuff?” Edwin asked. He was entirely serious.

The guys all knew that Vic raved about the stuff, or at least he had previously.
Alpha Man Up Plus
was some kind of near-miraculous all natural hormonal sex drive enhancer.

Victor punched Edwin in the shoulder pretty hard.

“Not funny, fucker. I'm not the one with the fucking problem,” Victor said.

Edwin rubbed his shoulder.

“Vic, take ownership. A man should satisfy his wo-man,” Edwin said quietly.

“Sometimes a woman's tired,” Max said thoughtfully.

You’re a full-throttle kinda guy. Are you too fast? Women need time,” Edwin said.

“I can spell foreplay, asshole,” Victor said to Edwin.

“Can't you find her buttons? You know her C-spot's more sensitive than her G-spot,” Max said helpfully, “Every woman is a little bit different. Seriously.”

Victor glared at them. The conversation with his friends actually seemed to be pissing him off, instead of helping. He cringed to think of them putting words and mental pictures, images of his wife, together in their minds.

“Mention my wife's anatomy again, asshole, and I'll seriously fuck you up,” Victor said to Max. His best friend nodded unhappily.

“Uh, just trying to help. Most women learn to come through masturbation,” Max said uncertainly, in his own defense.

Edwin thought about how lucky he was. Isis was like a finely-tuned brand new Maserati that worked perfectly whenever he cranked her up; she was good to go anytime he was ready, like magic. She was unlike any woman that he had ever known. Just thinking of her made him happy.

He felt great appreciation, possibly greater than he would otherwise, that Emily and Max had introduced the two of them, hearing about Vic's troubles pleasing Juliette.

He would never have met Isis otherwise, if Emily and Max hadn't connected them. He lived in a world that didn’t overlap with hers. He was in finance and Isis worked in a hospital in more of a pink collar job, even though she was in administration. His parents weren’t entirely supportive of the relationship, they were nervous about the differences between their backgrounds, educations, and ambitions, and yet they trusted him.

He grinned, thinking how surprised that Isis would be to know that he'd already had some hard conversations with his family. He didn’t want them to be surprised to know that he was going to propose. In general, they liked Isis. Yes, it was different for his parents and family.

Edwin was the first person that his family actually knew personally to both have be in a bi-racial relationship and also to decide to marry outside of their social set. He didn’t care. He knew that Isis was the right woman for him, yet he was respectful of his parents' need to prepare for the eventuality.

So he had given his parents the heads up many months back. He grinned.

He thought about how surprised Isis would be to know that not only had he had conversations about race, religion, income disparity, and so forth with his family, but that he had already discussed his next steps with his family as well.

Part of it was that this was the way that his family did things, discuss it amongst themselves first. And part of it was that his grandmother’s engagement ring needed to be checked, cleaned, and, pretty soon, resized. He had asked his mom about whether or not the setting should be updated. She had softly said, with tears in her eyes, truly happy for him, that he should see what Isis thought and felt. He had grinned.

The woman would have an opinion, that was for sure. He kept thinking about how excited Isis was going to be with the rock on her beautiful dark finger. The shiny diamond was going to flash like a bright star, against a stunning night sky, against her beautiful cinnamon-chocolate colored skin. Then Edwin thought a little more about Victor’s issues and he felt a desperate desire to help the guy, even though he'd always been more of an asshole-friend that was hard to get along with, rather than a bosom buddy.

Victor was telling Max that he didn’t know what to do.

“Maybe you should go shopping… get a few sex toys, a vibrator, buy her some lingerie, maybe some erotica... classy or whatever turns her on, you know?” Edwin offered.

“Better yet, get some sexy briefs or something. Put on a little show... or romance her a little,” Max said.

“Yeah. Maybe,” Victor said, his voice filled with despair.

“Don't freak about it. It probably has nothing to do with you,” Max added. Edwin shrugged.

Victor looked hopeful at Max’s idea.

“Yeah, that's what I think… well, I’m hoping, anyway,” Victor said.

I
N HER MASTER BEDROOM, Emily was in a serious funk. Looking exhausted, unkempt, her hair uncombed and wearing shlubby clothes, she was entirely depressed. She looked like she could use a shower. Juliette, on the bed, watched as Isis assessed Emily's clothes, which were lying all over. Isis frowned as Emily bounced baby Max. She was good, but you had to have something to start with to do a makeover. Emily’s wardrobe was pretty much shot.

“So what's up with you and Edwin?” Emily asked.

“If I figure out his stratagem, I can plan a counter attack, dahlink,” Isis said and laughed.

“Nice, a little Sun Tzu action,” Juliette said to Isis. At Emily's blank look she added, “
The Art of War
, adapted for lovers, obviously.“

Emily thought hard for a moment. Wow, she observed, I’ve become way less sharp since giving birth. She strained to remember the reference.

“Yeah, it's all coming back to me,” Emily said.

"’People should not be unfamiliar with strategy, those who understand it will survive, those who do not understand it will perish,’ right?” Emily said and Juliette nodded.

“But why go to all of that trouble? I mean… clearly he loves you,” Emily said to Isis, “So that's not the issue.”

“Doesn't every guy have a stratagem?” Isis asked Juliette.

Juliette shrugged at the question.

“You have to do something with your clothes. Everything is stretched out or has seriously nasty stains…” Juliette said to Emily.

It was true. No matter how Isis mixed and matched the items taken from her wardrobe, or carefully held items up to the light, and thought about how to utilize the item in a cool outfit, Emily’s clothes, for the most part, looked tired, worn out, or unfashionable.

“I know. It's gross,” Emily sighed, “It's either baby food, breast milk or spit up…”

“C'est dégoûtant!” Isis said, her faced twisted with disgust.

Emily picked up Max Jr. and kissed her baby’s neck.

“Yeah. But he's so worth it,” Emily said.

Isis grabbed the baby from Emily.

“Well, you need to be mommy chic, for marketing success. Less curdled booby and more captivating beauty,” Isis said.

“It seems really self-indulgent… to spend anything on myself. Things are really tight right now,” Emily said. Isis covered baby Max’s ears.

“Well, darn the cost, you'd better stay lovely, my lovely friend, if you wanna keep your man,” Isis said, “It's a zoo out there. Beeyatches have no problem hunting and snatching husbands in the wild if they can’t find a male flying solo.”

“It's true.The female of the species can be quite predatory,” Juliette said in a matter-of-fact purely analytical tone of voice.

“So you get yourself a new beauty regimen, update your wardrobe a bit, and study up on some quick makeup and hair tricks. Sexy feels good, keeps your man happy and helps to co-create success. Do you truly want réussite?” Isis asked Emily.

“Réussite,” repeated baby Max.

“That's right, bébé. Success,” Isis said happily and snuggled the little boy.

“You weren't joking about his development,” Juliette said to Emily. She sounded a little surprised.

“It's hard to stop stimulating him…” Emily replied.

“Why would you stop? But, honestly, this goes well beyond a baby who’s been stimulated and is performing for his parents to get positive reinforcement. I thought maybe you were overestimating his gifts; so many parents…” she said, and didn't finish her sentence.

“Uh, Max's freaking about our little baby genius,” Isis declared.

“Ah, the insecurity of men, encouraging children and women around the world to under-perform to maintain their mercurial peace of mind and oh-so fragile self-esteem,” Juliette said and laughed.

“Let me analyze his development,” Juliette said to Emily, “I can do IQ tests, compare him to developmental averages, and look at the impact of reinforcement and the like on his learning curve.”

“Okay, but we need to keep it quiet,” Emily said.

“Maybe it won't be all that bad, ma chérie. Perhaps the bébé is merely smart, not a genius, and therefore not a threat to Max's brainhood,” Isis said to Emily.

“I hope you're right. Not that I want the little guy to shrink so that his dada can feel good enough. It’s just that Max has been acting peculiar enough already. It’ll be easier if our baby is just super smart… not scary super smart,” Emily said.

You be just as “smart as you are,” Isis said to baby Max. He nodded happily.

“Meanwhile I've got to figure out twatting,” Emily said.

“I think you mean tweeting,” Juliette said, “not that I know, not that I do it.”

“I've never been a fan of
social networking
, I mean who cares what some idiot ate for lunch. Right? I can see me now, twatting, I mean tweeting, about life as a successful female author…” Emily said, “I'll share: Now I'm changing a poopy diaper.” The girls all laughed.

“But maybe I'm missing something, so I'm going to approach it with an open mind and heart... give it a real go.”

“Speaking of weird male freak outs, Vic's on the edge,” Juliette shared when the girls stopped laughing.

“Yes?” Emily asked.

“He finally realized, all of two years later, we have "bedroom" issues,” Juliette said and sighed.

“He can't find your G-spot?” Isis asked.

“Nah. It’s that he finally figured out that knowing where my G-spot is isn't enough. I hate to say it, but the boy is a terrible lover,” Juliette said candidly.

“Victor's never been the sensitive type. In my experience, it’s the sensitive guys that know how to please women,” said Emily.

“Well, it's not entirely his fault…” Juliette admitted. Isis and Emily waited for her to continue.

“I never mentioned the issue, I've just been handling my pleasure myself but that's getting' old,” Juliette said. Isis grinned and nodded.

“I knew what Vic was when I married him. He's stubborn. He'll figure out the way to fix this the way that he figured out his block to a committed relationship and fixed that,” Juliette said.

“Anyway, a woman can have an orgasm, or three, any time she likes… she doesn't need a man for that. Sexual pleasure is no reason to marry,” Isis said.

“So what is your idea of a good reason to marry?” Juliette asked Isis. Isis got a dreamy, starry-eyed expression on her face. Juliette and Emily exchanged a smile. Isis was obvious still smitten with Edwin, as she had been from the beginning.

“Le véritable amour,” Isis said breathily.

“What about a ring from Edwin?” asked Juliette. “Is that on the horizon?”

“Oh, she's working on it, but he hasn't taken the hint so far. When she misbehaves he ignores her,” Emily said and laughed.

“How refreshing, a traditional Maxineering male. What's his idea of good behavior?” Juliette asked.

“Me, patiently waiting for him to do what he wants… when he wants,” Isis said coyly.

“Sweet,” said Juliette laughed.

Max sat in his parked car, in the driveway of his house, talking on his mobile phone.

“I wouldn't say depressed, exactly… just facing some challenges,” he paused to listen. “Perfect, Thursday at 5:00 it is. Uh, for privacy, if you have to leave a message at home, just leave your first name, and an appointment time, but nothing official… if that's okay.”

He listened for a long moment.

“Great!” Max said and then hung up. He sat in the car and rubbed his head and temples. He didn’t see Emily, standing at the window, a worried expression upon her face, staring at the curious sight of him seated in his car making a telephone call.

Isis sat at a cubicle, in a hospital billing office, with a hands-free telephone headset on her head. Her little space was charming and well-reflected her personal style, due to her rather girly décor.

She was giddy with excitement. It had occurred to her that men like Edwin, men who were cerebral, quite often, had to be sold on a concept. Yet she didn’t want to be so crass as to pitch him directly, entirely without subtlety, and brow beat her man with the beauty of permanent union.

She knew that her best shot would be to subliminally sell her man on the idea that marriage was the end all and be all... to convince him, without obviously attempting to do so, without publicly efforting, and thus humiliating herself, to utterly convince him, that his happily-ever-after was entwined with her own.

He had to see it and she had to find a way to make him do so.

His future happiness resided in her heart, her arms, and her hand.

“So, here's my plan. I am going to prove to Edwin that marriage is bliss. I've plotted it. It'll be subliminal… like a full-on hypnotic induction, except in reality,” Isis said into her headset.

“Like how?” Emily’s voice squeaked through the headset. Isis could hear the stress and strain in her friend’s voice but she felt like her window of opportunity was closing with Edwin. It was weird how he had bailed on her the other night. Edwin had never been a man to pass up an opportunity for a romantic sexcapade with her. Could he be getting bored? God forbid.

Isis felt like she had to close the deal and soon. Neither of them was getting any younger and Edwin was her ideal man. She knew that he was a catch. She’d regret it forever if she didn’t make her play for him because she knew that someone would.

She felt a burst of pure rage at the thought of some other woman making a play for Edwin. Edwin didn’t speak French, yet the thought of him introducing some other woman as mon épouse, my spouse, made her blood boil. So, even if it was going to inconvenience Emily and Max, she had to enroll them in “the plan.”

She was wildly in love with the man. Edwin was polished, settled and stable, had a calming presence, was competent and had his life sorted in so many ways. He was so thoughtful, in an intellectual, consider his every personal and professional move way. They were completely compatible, sexually, emotionally, mentally, even their energy levels. In the ways that they weren’t alike, they were harmonizing opposites. She’d dated several men, but never a man like Edwin.

Race had never been an issue for either of them. She hadn’t planned for an interracial one true love and marriage; it had just happened. She knew that Edwin’s family had taken a little time to adjust, yet adjust they had. They had always been genteel and warm to her.

“Like how?” Emily repeated. She had been doodling some ideas for a marketing plan and knew that she had to get off of the phone before she had to pick up little Max.

“I'll show his unconscious and conscious mind some
examples
of marital delight, maybe a touching proposal and a happily ever after or two… then he'll figure out that that's exactly what he wants… with me. Que penses-tu de mon idée?” Isis asked.

“I've no idea what you just said,” Emily’s voice could be heard to say.

“I'll put ideas into his head, that’s the plan,” Isis said flatly. She was excited yet, at the same time, her tone indicated that she was feeling pretty desperate.