Free The Big "O": A Romantic Comedy by H. Raven Rose

by a shoulder, she fiddled with her computer.
    “That could work” Emily said and thought for a moment, and then added, “He's a nice guy. Edwin is a really nice guy.”
    In the hospital billing office, Isis pondered Emily’s seemingly casual statement which somehow, something about her friend’s tone, seemed laden with deeper meaning. Was Emily suggesting that her own husband was not a nice guy?
    “Max is a nice guy,” Isis finally responded carefully. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—believe that Emily and Max were already having serious trouble. They’d only been married a few years.
    “Uh, yeah, but Edwin is so… stable,” Emily replied. She doodled on a piece of paper, sketching ranMax ideas. What if she could come up with some kind of really cool marketing plan to refresh sales of their old book? She felt a surge of excitement at the idea. She’d been the creative genius at her first real job, where she’d worked and fallen for Max, after getting her MBA.
    “Max seems pretty stable,” Isis said. Emily sighed.
    “Uh-huh,” Emily finally said, as if she meant quite the opposite. Isis figured that she would sidestep the conversation that Emily seemed to want to have. She had five more minutes on her break and knew that she had better cut to the chase if she was going to get what she wanted.
    “May Edwin and I come over for dinner? Just the two of us?” Isis blurted out. “You and Max and baby Max can just do your normal thing… and, uh, Edwin will be blindsided by your Maxestic bliss.” Then Isis paused for a long moment. She felt terribly awkward. She knew that Emily and Max were under a strain but when things were working, they were the adorable all-American couple and family that she dreamed of having for herself... with Edwin.
    Isis almost spoke. Yet she knew that she needed to wait, and sit quietly, and let Emily respond, however she might. She had to really focus on keeping her mouth shut. It was a challenge.
    “We may not be the best example of Maxestic bliss at this juncture,” Emily finally said.
    Isis felt a moment of panic. No, not panic, desperation which rose in her body and being and threatened to overcome her. She absolutely had to get Emily to agree to her plan. It was essential.
    She was sympathetic that Emily and Max were having a bit of difficult time; yet, how terribly could it actually be? It was more like they were mid-early marriage post-baby gold glow and facing the dirty-nappy, no time for themselves, or each other, but that was temporary. Wasn’t it? She hoped that it was just a brief marital and family interlude, which would, like many unpleasant life events, fade as or more rapidly than it had arrived.
    “You have to, Emily, you're all I've got...” Isis said. She hated that she was whining and pleading but she felt like her happily ever after was on the line. She prayed that Emily would say,“Yes.”
    Emily sighed. Isis was quiet and waited for her friend to speak.
    “If you must,” Emily finally said. Isis giggled nervously and breathed a massive sigh of relief.
    “Merci beaucoup,” Isis said rapidly, then looked at her watch, “I have to go now but listen, ma chérie, put the marketing stuff aside, while baby Max's is at his playgroup and take some time for you. Okay?”
    “Okay. Au revoir,” Emily said.
    “Au revoir, ma chérie. Merci beaucoup,” Isis said, her voice filled with gratitude and love, and hung up. Once off the phone, she said a tiny prayer that her plan would work.
    Emily hung up and, suddenly overcome with fatigue, thinking about how little time she had before her toddler came home, slumped over her marketing plan draft. Maybe she would take a nap, in the 90 minutes or so she had left. She felt sick that she couldn’t motivate herself to exercise. All she wanted to do was sleep. She looked at her stomach and pinched it. She cried for five minutes and then gave herself a pep talk.
    She wiped away her tears and decided that she'd feel sorry for