Page 63 of Storm in a D Cup

Signed,

Desperada

What had happened to flippant and funny? I shook my head and typed.

A: Dear Desperada,

I deeply sympathize with your plight. Marriages are never as easy as they show on holiday, jewelry or real estate commercials. Marriages take a lot of working out the kinks and most probably, in time—

I stopped typing. Intime? The poor woman had been putting up with this shit for fifteen years. (Remind you of anyone from a long, long time ago?) How long was she expected to go on, smiling and pretending to be an idiot while she was slowly dying inside?

If even for a moment I’d doubted I had anything to say to other women, I was wrong. I now realized I had bucketfuls to say, and that I had no doubts or qualms whatsoever. Besides, it was renowned the page had a humorous take, so there was plenty of room for poetic license. I hit ‘Delete’ and started all over again.

A: ‘Dear Desperada,

Get rid of the little shit. Bury him in someone else’s garden (but leave an anonymous apology note for digging up their flower bed) and get on with your own life. No one will miss him anyway.’

There. That ought to do it. It served the bastard right!

*

My phone rang the day Julian returned and as I was getting dinner ready. I can tell you over the last few months I’d developed ESP. Iknewwhen it was my doctor calling with my results. My sixth sense has never failed me.

‘Pronto?’

‘Erica?’

‘Dottoressa Bardotti—’ (gulp) ‘—hi. What’s the news?’

‘I’m sorry, Erica…’

There was no need to add anything. I closed my eyes, envisaging yet another little guy going down the drain. And Julian trying to hide his expression of… was it relief I was seeing? Relief? Seriously?

He had asked me to have a baby, and this was the umpteenth time IVF had failed – how many times would we have to go through this torture to have a baby? Did we want to book another IVF cycle, the doctor asked? Yes, unless Julian came out in the open and clearly discussed what had changed between us in the past few weeks. No one gets that angry for an allergic reaction.

‘Of course, Doctor,’ I said sweetly, looking Julian straight in the eye. ‘Next Monday at nine? We’ll be there, thank you.’

I hung up and watched Julian’s face change as if I’d slowly poured acid all over his lap. ‘What?’ I prompted. Let him finally take a stand and be clear for once and for all. Tell me he didn’t love me anymore and that he was getting engaged to Genie Stacie as soon as he dumped me.

‘You still want to go through with it?’ he asked.

‘Why not? I’m keeping my promise to you. You said you wanted a baby and I’m gonna give you a baby.’

‘But… this would be our fifth attempt, Erica.’

‘So? Usually it never works before the fourth.’

‘So how long do you want to keep trying for?’ he asked.

‘Until it works.’

Julian stood to his feet and pushed his hand through his hair, looking like Superman staring at a big pile of Kryptonite. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell me the truth.

‘Listen, Julian. I’m doing this becauseyouasked me. And now it depends on ifIwant it?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You didn’t have to,’ I said, my throat getting dry. ‘Having another baby was light years away from my mind, remember? It was your idea.’