The Big "O": A Romantic Comedy (9 page)

“Speaking of the time, I gotta go. Emily's gonna be pissed,” Max said.

“Me too, we're going out to dinner,” Edwin said and stood up. He dusted off the seat of his pants, as if he might have inadvertently gotten dirty from the plaid couch. Victor frowned.

“What the fuck are our next steps, dudes?” Victor asked.

“Vic, map what you used to do right,” Max said and tapped the large pad of paper, “then e-mail me last names. Edwin, come up with a strategy to reverse-engineer Victor's sexual prowess.” Then Max ran up the stairs. Edwin turned to follow.

“That implies he had sexual prowess,” Edwin said under his breath.

Victor didn’t hear exactly what Edward said but he knew that the guy had said something.

“Did you say something, Edwino?” Victor asked. Edwin ignored him.

“Didn't fucking think so,” Victor said.

The guys left and Victor planned a romantic evening for himself and his wife. He thought about technique and even researched it a bit online. After Juliette came home, and they'd had dinner, he went to the master bedroom and got ready.

Minutes later, Juliette slipped into bed. The lights were turned down low. The scene was set for romance. He reached for her and then, on top of their bed, Victor straddled Juliette. It was a wrestling match of sorts. Victor was the aggressor. After a few minutes, Juliette spoke.

“No, it's… let's just give it a rest, okay? I have— ”

“But—” Victor said.

“I really have...” Juliette said and finally wrenched away and made her escape from him. His face crumpled a bit as she turned away.

“…literature to review, anyway,” she finished and grabbed her tablet and some papers.

Victor frowned; his face grew tight and red. It appeared that he was angry until a tear slid down his check and he turned over and grabbed the comforter and pulled it over his head.

I
SIS AND EDWIN sat at a table in an elegant restaurant and watched a Jazz quartet finish a torch song. Isis sipped her wine and looked around. The setting was beautiful. They were seated among cream tablecloth covered tables in the center of each of which sat an over-sized glass bowl made radiant by the flickering lit flame of the large gold shimmering candle inside.

“That song was a surprise for Mary and Bob. Mary tells us that it's the five-year anniversary of their first date, which they had right here at this very restaurant, at that very table,” the pianist/singer said and waved toward a happy couple.

Mary grinned and blushed while her somewhat portly husband Bob looked terribly uncomfortable. Isis was thrilled and nudged Edwin.

“Give 'em a hand, folks,” the pianist said. The upscale restaurant patrons clapped.

“Would you like to say a word?” the piano player asked the couple. Mary ran up and grabbed the microphone from his hand.

“Thank you,” Mary said to the piano player and the restaurant goers.

“This place means so much to me, to us, and, honey…” she said turning to face Bob. When she spoke to her husband the patrons applauded politely again.

“…it's the perfect place and time…” Mary said softly and smiled.

The spotlight lit up her man. He grew obviously more uncomfortable.

“…to ask you something important…” Mary said. The crowd immediately grew more interested.

Mary paused, emotional, and pulled a ring box out from a pocket. The other restaurant patrons ate it up and applauded more loudly. Someone whistled and cheered. Her guy squirmed uncomfortably, and then got to his feet. His girlfriend continued to speak.

“…I'm a modern woman, you're a modern man, and we've been together for many—”

“Wait, I brought you here to...“

Bob interrupted but, as he had no microphone, she couldn't really hear him. She held one hand up to her ear to indicate that she couldn’t hear. He shrugged.

“You what?” Mary said into the microphone. He mumbled a response.

“What?” she asked again. He spoke again, more loudly. She still couldn't hear.

“You what?” she asked again and it became obvious that she was a little hard of hearing.

The pianist spoke softly and kindly, yet clearly, into his mike.

“He wants to end it, he met someone else…”

Mary was shocked and embarrassed. Isis cringed.

“He what?” Mary said as Bob got up and walked out of the restaurant.

Comprehension slowly dawned upon the older woman’s face and her former joyful demeanor dissipated instantly.

Isis took a huge gulp of her wine and cringed at how the evening had turned. Edwin shook his head sadly but inside was laughing. He could read his woman like a book. The end of a relationship was sad yet it was terribly funny that the situation with the couple was so horribly disastrous.

Sitting in the rocking chair in his toddler’s bedroom, Max read
Where the Wild Things Are
to Baby Max.

And guess what he said next?” Max asked his child.

"I'll eat you up," the child said. Max checked the text. To his amazement, the kid was right.

"That's right, Max,” his father said dully. He realized that, before too long, his son would likely be able to read. Knowing the words and then, however slowly or quickly, associating those words to particularly shaped letters was the beginning of that amazing literary aptitude.

After reading to his son for a while, Max noticed that his toddler was falling asleep. He gave the boy a kiss on the head and carefully put him into his crib. He covered him and then turned on the sparkle starry night light and turned out the lamp and left the room.

He entered the master bedroom. Emily, upset, ate chocolate in bed and wondered how the evening with Isis and Edwin was playing out. She knew that tonight was another one of her girlfriend's attempts to show Edwin the beauty and joy of a permanent relationship.

Max pulled out his laptop and began to work. He had been gone for hours earlier and had been unusually quiet about his day.

“So, you guys were with Victor?” Emily asked.

“Yup,” Max replied.

“But what took so long?” Emily asked.

“We were at Victor's and then I had to help Edwin with something,” Max said oblivious to her upset, “For the love of God, can you let me focus on this?”

Emily turned her back on Max and tried not to cry. Why was he so insensitive to her?

It was late. Juliette sat on the couch writing on her laptop. Victor stared at her for a long awkward moment but she didn’t even notice.

“So, uh, you coming to bed?” Victor asked and stretched nonchalantly as if it didn’t matter a bit whether she said yes or no.

“Uh-huh, in a minute,” Juliette said. Victor grinned happily then got up quietly and went to the master bedroom. Juliette immediately got lost in her work.

About twenty minutes later, Juliette looked at the time then sighed. She got up.

Vic, in another sexy getup, was arranged on the bed. Obviously tired, his eyes were closed.

Juliette peeked in the room and saw him, then rolled her eyes and tiptoed away.

At a table in Astro Cafe, an intergalactic themed coffee shop, which had recently taken the nation by storm, Emily, bedraggled in sweats and sneakers, stared at Isis. She shrugged. Emily scarfed down a sugary celestial chocolate croissant, covered with edible glitter, moons and stars, and chugged her chocolaty Chiron cappuccino whenever she wasn’t speaking.

“So did you?” Isis repeated.

“Nah, Max is still freaking out but I decided not to stop stimulating baby Max's intellectual development,” Emily finally replied, her mouth full of yummy fresh baked goodness.

“Good for you, Emily baby,” Isis said.

“It's ridiculous. How is the baby supposed to continue his natural development if his father wants to impede it? I really had no idea that Max had such serious self-confidence issues... it's mental, obviously. What rational parent avoids stimulating their child?”

“I... uh, really don't know anything about parenting,” Isis admitted with embarrassment, “I avoided Home Economics like the class was a death sentence. I have to admit, I'm a bit squeamish.”

Emily laughed and looked at her glam friend. It was pretty much impossible to imagine Isis dealing with a nasty poopy diaper or baby vomit. She laughed again.

“What?” Isis said and laughed. Emily grinned and shrugged.

Isis carefully took a sip of her delicious, perfectly made Mars Mocha. It was a heavenly mix of dark roast caffeinated small-batch ground organic coffee beans mixed with sugar-free stevia-sweetened organic cocoa. She surreptitiously gave Emily the once-over. Was there a kind way to tell Emily that it was time for her make-over?

“How'd your mind control session go?” Emily asked. Isis groaned and rubbed her temples.

“Il était horrible. The exact opposite of what I wanted. It could have a horrible permanent effect on Edwin, unless I quickly counterbalance the experience,” Isis said.

“What happened?” Emily asked.

“I can’t even tell you about it. It was too horrible. I’ll throw up,” Isis said.

“Are you sure that's a good idea, trying to counterbalance it? Maybe you should give up trying to manipulate the situation,” Emily said.

“It's not like I'm entirely orchestrating everything,” Isis said a touch defensively.

“Okay, I guess I get it,” Emily said.

“I'm merely facilitating a vicarious positive experience of proposals of marriage, or truly delicious romantic examples, so that Edwin will finally propose to me. I figure the universe won't create opportunities unless it's meant to be,” Isis said.

“But maybe you're attracting experiences to show you the opposite for a reason,” Emily said.

“Don't be negative,” Isis said. Emily grinned.

Emily watched as a couple embraced outside of the coffee shop. Her face suddenly changed. Isis felt a wave of compassion for her friend.

“I am thinking you are seriously overdue for some retail therapy,” Isis said, looking Emily over.

“Maybe,” Emily said. Her eyes were on the couple outside.

“Emily, are you listening to me?” Isis asked. She could see that Emily was totally distracted.

“What?” Emily said.

“I'm worried about you, let's go shopping. It's an emergency,” Isis said.

“Most people follow, I'm worried about you, with what’s wrong?” Emily said.

“I already know what’s wrong and retail therapy est le traitement que vous exigez,” Isis said.

Inside of the tranquil mauve and peach-toned decor therapist’s office, Max faced Dr. Simone Charles. She was as sultry and sexy as ever.

“When did you first notice this?” Dr. Charles asked.

“Well, I got really nervous in the fourth grade when Mrs. Smith made a list of the top 15 spellers in the class,” Max said.

“Oh,” said Dr. Charles, not comprehending.

“I wasn't on the list,” Max said to clarify.

Dr. Charles made a soothing noise of acknowledgment. Max continued his story.

Inside of Victor and Juliette’s unfinished basement, Victor drew a bunch of stick figures of women on the over-sized pad of paper clipped to the easel. Max came down the stairs.

“Victor, this is one area where quantity over quality ain't better,” Max said.

“Dude, I know, but I can't figure it. It was always the world on time. Me touching va jay jays and ding-dong, my package delivered!” Victor said.

“I hope Edwin's got something, because I don't have a clue, so far,” Max said.

But then he felt a burst of guilt. He hadn’t been thinking of his friend’s issues because he couldn’t stop thinking of his own problems. For the love of Pete, he hoped that the therapy was going to help because the stuff was expensive and money was one of his issues. That and intelligence.

“So, you’re saying I’m fat?” Emily asked Isis. They were waiting in Emily’s car, sitting in the carpool pickup lane waiting to pick up baby Max.

“Oui,” Isis began, then corrected herself, “Non. Not exactly. I’m saying you’re on a slippery slope and there is nowhere but down on that slope.”

Emily laughed with a guttural sound that made it sound like she was going to cry.

I’m just so tired all of the time,” Emily said.

“I know,” said Isis, “so you’re going to have to dig deep. This is going to be hard but it’s doable. You’re going to have to focus and narrow your locus of control. You’ll have to figure out exactly what you want and the steps you must take to get it.”

“Okay,” Emily finally said.

“You probably need vitamins and minerals, a nutrient-dense carb-free diet, and you’ll have to have a much better wardrobe,” Isis added.

It was late. The house was quiet. Emily, now dressed in sweats and a tank top, checked on baby Max. He slept quietly in his crib. She returned to the master bedroom and dropped to the floor beside the bed. She did as many sit-ups as she was able. It wasn’t many.

As soon as she caught her breath she started again. When she couldn’t do any more, she got up and posted on FaceBook. The baby monitor crackled with noise. She listened. It went silent.

Sweaty and out-of-breath, Emily did leg lifts until she couldn’t do anymore.

Emily posted on Twitter. She followed that with as many girly push-ups as she could muster then flipped on her side and did leg lifts.

She went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. While the kettle boiled, she opened her new bottles of vitamins, read the bottles, and took a serving of each.

Juliette, Emily, and Isis sat around the kitchen table in Victor and Juliette’s kitchen. Baby Max sat on the floor playing a game on an electronic tablet. The three ladies sipped their tea. Juliette looked at Isis and laughed and laughed.

“What is your problem, Juliette?” Isis finally asked.

“I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. The whole thing is just ironic, which is exactly what amuses me,” Juliette said, “What was your original plan?”

The plan was that, if Edwin and I shared some vicarious happy romantic marital experiences, that he'd subliminally think of marriage, marriage to me, as a good thing,” Isis said.

“I was skeptical, too,” Emily said, “but maybe it’ll work.”

Juliette, distracted by something in her computer, grew quiet.

“Then again, after what happened, maybe you need a new plan,” Emily replied.

“The plan is great, it's just that things keep going horribly wrong,” Isis said with irritation.

“Do you think the universe is maybe trying to tell you something?” Juliette asked.

“That’s a far out idea, for a scientist, maybe not so entirely rational,” Isis said.

“I had the same thought,” Emily said and laughed, “that maybe the universe has other plans right now.”

“Like what?” Isis asked, “Exactly what is the universe maybe trying to tell me?”

“Maybe you should think about something else besides ensnaring Edwin in your happily ever after... ...maybe there’s a better happy ending for you,” Juliette replied.

Victor flipped channels on Edwin’s 110-inch Ultra HD TV. Edwin finished at the bar and handed Victor and Max their drinks.

“I can't figure it out,” Victor said.

Forgeddabout it. We have a plan,” Max said.

“Let's hear your fucking stroke of genius plan, assholes, because so far all that you’ve produced is shit,” Victor said.

“We go straight to the source,” Edwin said. Victor didn’t seem to get it.

Max pointed to three stick figures on Victor's "bell curve" diagram which was taped to Edwin's living room wall.

“We target women from your past, and ask them what worked,” Max said. Victor thought for a moment. It sounded like a lot of work. Who knew where those women were? But maybe, just maybe, it would work. He realized that he had everything to gain and nothing to lose.

“That's not a bad idea, Edwino,” Victor finally admitted.

“You'll have your oofty magoofty on in no time,” Edwin said.

“My "oofty" what the fuck?” Victor asked.