Chances Aren't (5 page)

"I heard about that," she says with her eyes lighting up.

I scoff. "You really got to watch out who you're having sex with and what you're making them do."

"Seriously." After a few moments of silence where we each fiddle with our wineglasses, she says, "So, uh, did you guys go to a fertility clinic and try in vitro and all that?"

Sighing, I shoot her a tired look.

"Sorry, if you don't want—"

"No, it's okay. Well, about ten years ago, we tried that a couple times and it didn't work. After that we tried that other thing... where they fertilize outside and implant... I forget what it's called. On the third try doing that she did get pregnant, but in the ninth week she had a miscarriage." I raise my hands up in defeat.

"That's awful."

"Yeah, we looked at adoption and got close a few times, but that whole thing is a nightmare full of corruption and emotional stress."

Frowning, she gives me a supportive nod.

"She was perfect." I take a sip of wine and sigh. "I mean, Emily was little miss picture of vaginal health. Always ovulating on time and she had all the right, womanly muc— uh..." I motion as if I'm pointing through the table at Nina's crotch before coming to my senses and quickly placing my hands on the table and making a sour face. "You know what I'm trying to say?"

"Sure." We share a nod, although I'm pretty sure she has no idea where I was going with that and frankly neither do I.

"Anyway, let's just say my contribution needed a lot of help in the lab. You know, separating the good ones from the bad ones. This one time..." After letting out a chuckle, I say. "I need a drink before I tell this one." I down the rest of my wine and refill the glass. "We were at the clinic together. Emily's legs were all up in the stirrups ready to go."

I motion to Nina with the bottle and she extends her glass as I continue, "I, um, did my part, you know, left my sample and headed off to work. Then I get this panicked call from Emily telling me my semen didn’t contain any actual sperm." I pause to let that remark sink in.

After a moment, she says, "Huh, that's, uh, weird."

"I know because usually I have at least a few." I roll my eyes. "I can only imagine the conversation that took place as she was in the ready position and the doctor had to come in and deliver the news,
um your husband’s semen is worthless. Please call him, ask him what the hell he did wrong and get him back in here immediately."

Nina cringes. "Oh my God."

"Yeah... Emily asked me 'What did I do?' like in that special accusatory tone that only a disappointed wife can deliver. You know that tone, right?" I deliver a wide-eyed smile.

"I think I've used that tone... once or twice." She raises her eyebrows and grins.

"Once or twice?"

"Okay three times, tops."

"Uh-huh. So I told her that I did what I've always done, what I've been doing since I was fourteen and at that point she accused me of masturbating just before leaving for the doctor."

"Did you?"

"Of course not." I scoff. "Do you really think I would jerk off when a two thousand dollar procedure hung in the balance?"

"I guess not."

"So I was ordered to get back to the office and contribute again. I went back and boy did I receive funny looks from everyone— the receptionists, the nurses, and even the other patients. I think everyone knew who I was and why I was back." Dropping my head to my hands, I rub my forehead and sigh. When I finally look back to her we share a smile.

"Getting pregnant is supposed to be fun," she says.

"I know, right? I guess it is at first and for most people it stays that way." For an awkward moment we're both staring into our wine glasses before each taking a sip.

"When we finally decide to try, I hope we don't have any trouble," she says.

"I'm sure you guys will be fine. But the longer you wait I've heard the harder it—" I shut up when I see Nina's concerned expression. "Shit, I told you I always say the wrong thing. I don't actually have any sort of filter between my brain and mouth. That's why I usually don't say anything except when I drink and as you can tell it gets much worse when I do."

"Let's review..." She gives me a smile. "You've made me feel terrified to be alone in my own house and you've pretty much said I'm too old to have a baby."

"I didn't."

"Just tell me I look fat in this skirt and you'll find me curled up in the corner crying."

Giving her a pointed look, I shake my head. "You don't look fat in that skirt."

She frowns. "So you're saying I look too skinny?"

"What?" I raise my hands up in surrender. "I, uh, what? Wait a minute, you're messing with me."

Covering her mouth, she fights back a laugh.

"You really can't pay a woman a compliment, can you? I wouldn't change any of
this
." I wave my finger around pointing at her in a general way as I nod my head convincingly. "I'm sure Tom has no complaints."

Her smile fades and she returns to studying her wine glass and says softly, "Yeah..."

Oh, shit. Check please. I can't win.

Glancing to the clock, I widen my eyes. "I'd better get home. I'm sure you have, you know..."

"You sure?"

I swallow what's left in my wineglass. "Yeah, I've got to get up early and try to find two hundred thousand dollars."

"What?"

"It's a joke." I rise up from the table and head toward the back door. Turning back, I say, "Anytime you guys want to come over and use the pool, feel free. Even if we're... I mean, I'm not there."

"Great, I'm sure we'll take you up on that." She follows behind me.

Stepping out to the deck, I point to the door. "Make sure you lock this."

"I will."

"Until Tom gets back I'll keep an eye on you... I mean, your house. Not in a stalkerish way, just, you know, I can see right into your..." I slowly exhale while shaking my head and she breaks into a chuckle. Pointing to my house, I stammer, "I, uh, I'm just going to go now. You should probably forget most of all this."

"Ben, thanks for fixing the window..." She smiles at me. "And hang in there."

"I will."

I return to my backyard, strip off my shoes and socks and after rolling up my pants, I put my feet in the pool. It's been unusually hot for June and the water temperature is amazingly warm. Leaning back, I relax supporting my weight on my arms behind me as I gaze up at the starlit sky thinking that my best days are behind me and hoping I didn't just come across as an old creepy guy with Nina. Convinced that I did, I imagine that she's probably over there laughing at me right now. Leveling my gaze, I spot her in the window at the sink washing dishes and quickly look away. I rise up, shake off my wet feet and head into the house.

Sitting down at the computer, I open up a spreadsheet and compile a quick listing of all our assets and debts. I wasn't too far off in my estimate and we owe just over six hundred thousand across all our mortgage loans. I pull up the credit card accounts and find another fifteen thousand that we owe, but that's the whole story— there are no other bills or car loans to worry about.

I'm feeling pretty relaxed from my beer and wine combination and for a moment, I consider going out for a swim, but decide against it. With my luck I'll pass out in the pool only to be pulled from the water just in time that I live the rest of my life in a vegetative state. One where I'm cognitive enough to hear what everyone is saying about me, but I'm unable to communicate. What a nightmare that would be. Instead I head upstairs and flop into bed.

My eyes open and it's barely light outside. Turning to the clock, I find it's only 5:23 a.m. I groan and turn on my side clutching my pillow in an attempt to fall back asleep. After a few unsuccessful minutes, I reach into my nightstand and pull out my black sleep mask. Light, noise, my overactive mind— everything keeps me from sleeping. I can't stand it. I wish I were one of those people who could sleep until noon. The latest I've ever gotten up was maybe ten and that was after a night of staying up until three.

I'm hungry and for some reason I find myself thinking about Emily's sauce which makes me think about Emily and how we fell in love, since the sauce sorta played a key role. We met the summer before our senior year in college, but we didn't go to the same school. She went to Towson State while I was at the University of Maryland in College Park. We actually met at a bar in Fells Point, which is a little trendy area of Baltimore city right on the water which is packed with bars and restaurants.

The night we met, Emily was in the bar with friends and I was there with my college roommate, Alan. From across the bar, we caught each other's eye and I had just enough to drink that I mustered up the courage to talk to her. This wasn't something I was at all used to doing, but the way she looked at me made me feel really comfortable. Normally I didn’t have a clue what to say to girls, but she was so easy to talk to, we really had some definite chemistry brewing that night. I wouldn't say it was love at first sight or anything like that, I mean, don't get me wrong, I was drawn to that bright smile and her big brilliant blue eyes.

I remember she lit up when we were together that night. It made me feel like I was someone worthy of being loved and for a guy with incredible self-esteem issues; it was completely new to me. And it was a look I would enjoy for many, many years. Sadly it's a look I haven't seen in a long time. But it wasn't the look that reeled me in. Even as great as it was to be the recipient of that, it was something else. Actually, it was three things— three things that my youth and inexperience were hopelessly overmatched against. It seems silly now and I hate to admit it, but yes, I was mesmerized by a great family, great spaghetti sauce and a great ass.

You see, I was born into a family that wasn't all that close, forced to eat sauce from a jar and I've always been partial to a great ass. My family consists of a mother, only one other sibling, a sister, and of a father who suffered from mental illness. My parents divorced when I was eleven, just after one of my father's many regular and sometimes embarrassingly eventful nervous breakdowns.

When my mother had finally had enough, she filed for divorce and remarried about a year later. Because my sister and step-father didn't exactly get along, my sister soon left to live with my father. We didn't have any extended family living nearby, so I had no idea of what a close family was actually like.

Within the first week I met Emily, I was invited to their weekly Sunday dinners. A huge Italian spread complete with her large extended family. Her parents along with three sisters and one brother would all be around the table with aunts, uncles and grandparents. Sitting there for hours, we would enjoy the incredible food and great company. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. And I'm not saying her family wasn't crazy— because most families are. They're just nutty, but in a good way and close to one another in a way that I had never before experienced.

The sauce was truly amazing, a secret family recipe slow cooked all day with delicious meatballs and tender melt-in-your mouth London broil, it was literally to die for. The sauce was so good, you could eat it like soup. Served with fresh Italian bread, eggplant parmesan, and on special occasions, amazing cheese ravioli from a little store in the neighborhood, it was the best food I'd ever eaten.

But enough about the food— from the moment I laid eyes on Emily in that tiny little brown skirt and the way it hugged her adorable ass, I had to talk to her. I soon discovered there was an intelligent, funny, perky girl to complement my attraction to that skirt. Then, weeks later, after seeing what was under that skirt, those pastel colored satin string bikini panties covering her perfectly rounded cheeks, I was hooked. Clearly in over my head, I was powerless to resist the perfect storm of family, sauce and adorable ass.

The Sunday dinners slowed in frequency over the years to the point where, for a least the last ten, we would get together only on major holidays. The change in frequency was a product of distance and life and kids, of which her siblings each had a few. Emily's adorable ass is still pretty cute, although, honestly after twenty plus years, it's just not the same, but I can't fault her because, for that matter, neither is mine. That leaves me with the sauce— the one true constant in my life. It's basically all I've had to look forward to for the last decade and now all I have left is one more small container of it in the freezer. Maybe I'll hold onto it.

Emily and I fell hard for one another and were engaged nine months after we met, a few months before we graduated from college. We were married fifteen months later and for the first couple years everything was perfect. We each got decent jobs and bought a townhouse as we saved money for our future. Seven years later we bought this large house, Emily quit her job and we set out to get her pregnant. Keeping the condoms in the drawer for the first time ever, we enjoyed the hell out of each other. Doing it with purpose, but with intense passion as well, the sex was carefree and hot. It took about six months before the mild concern set in as we watched everyone around us get pregnant with ease. Two of her sisters already had babies and were each expecting again. Other friends were starting families and I thought we just needed to give it some more time, but Emily's gynecologist didn't agree so off I went to my first urologist visit and it was all downhill from there.