Authors: Frances Vidakovic
“Well,”
Markie had continued slowly, “What I’m trying to say is that while other guys
were sowing their seeds, I was spoken for. Taken, if you get what I mean.”
No, Serena
did not get what he meant. What was he trying to say? That he had been engaged?
That his ex-future-mother-in-law still had dibs on the bloke?”
“Do I need
to spell it out for you?”
“I think
you do,” Serena had said, who was by then plotting to get Miss Wanda-Long-Legs
out of the picture. Off a cliff perhaps?
“What I’m
trying to say is that I haven’t slept with twelve other partners like you have.
I haven’t even slept with half as much.”
“That’s
okay,” Serena had replied, trying hard not to keep a straight face. The
virginal boy show he was putting on was really extremely funny… oops she meant
cute.
“So you’ve
slept with only a handful. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Not
really a handful,” Markie had said, going bright red in the face, “It’s really
something more like this.”
He put up
a peace sign and left it there frozen in space until the realization sunk in.
“You see
I’ve only slept with two women.”
Serena had
smiled, unsure of what to say next. “That’s so sweet,” was the first thing that
came to mind, though deep inside it was more like:
Oh Lord, what do we have
here?
“She gave you
permission to do what?”
“To sleep
with ten more women,” Markie repeated, sounding just as shocked as Rick.
The two
business partners had gathered into the silo-cum-trendy conference room for an
emergency meeting of the personal kind. Not that any of their staff would
suspect such a thing.
“But I
thought you were going to break up with her? Let the old cannon loose?”
“I was but
then she came up with this crazy idea.”
“To which
of course you couldn’t say no. Lucky son of a gun,” Rick muttered under his
breath. “You do realize most men would kill to be in your shoes right now.”
“Yeah I
know man,” Markie agreed. “God must be finally giving something back after all
those years living the noble life. That’s what you get for having a
tarnish-free record.”
“Damn,
then I guess it could only happen to you,” Rick laughed, playing the part of a
jealous bastard.
Not that
he really was jealous; Rick was single after all and now Markie too was free to
go on a hunting spree. He wondered whether he should pinch himself just to make
sure it wasn’t all a dream. You see, it wasn’t every day a man got to have his
cake and eat it too and to be honest, Markie felt as if he was rolling around
in thick luscious chocolate Jerry Springer-style.
The truth
was Markie hadn’t really wanted to split from Serena. The girl was like heaven
on a stick: gorgeous, funny and ambitious yet with both feet firmly on the
ground. But there hadn’t been any other choice. He had needed to get out of the
relationship before this issue of his exploded out of control and he found
himself doing crap a man shouldn’t do to a dog, like cheating, for example.
On second
thought there was little chance of him doing that; Markie wasn’t the cheating
sort of guy. If he’d stayed he would have instead become a grumpy old fart with
a rod stuck up his ass. And Serena didn’t need that sort of crap. She deserved
more and for her sake, Markie had been willing to make the biggest sacrifice
and let her go. Set the bird free, and if they truly love you they will return…
blah, blah, blah. No violins please.
“I still
can’t believe you get to keep her,” Rick said, shaking his head.
“I know,
three months of freedom and once my masculine urges have been satisfied, it’s
back to roost in the nest.”
“What if
she doesn’t want to take you back?” Rick asked, always one to throw the rhetoric
question.
“Trust me,
she will. That isn’t an option.”
It wasn’t
like Serena to suggest a plan that wasn’t going to work. The way she presented
the idea so earnestly had reeled him in from the word go (plus the fact that it
obviously worked in his favor).
“Listen
you don’t need to break up with me,” Serena had pleaded. “I know a way for you
to get what you want and it will bring us even closer together.”
In the
past, despite having had her own fair share of men, Serena had often pestered
Markie about his infamous two lovers: Wanda and Minroe. It was the 'two versus
twelve' debate. Markie of course thought his two partners paled in comparison
to her plethora of one-night stands. To that, Serena said bollocks.
So I’ve
slept with twelve different men one time apiece. So what? It still only equated
to only a dozen sexual experiences.
Whereas Markie had done the deed, what
was it now - more than a thousand times with other women? It was funny how Math
wasn’t Serena’s strongest point but she sure knew how to be a calculator when
it mattered.
During a
few of their earlier Deep and Meaningfuls Serena had confided that she was actually
in fact envious of Markie’s past (and thank gosh for that, it was the only
thing that stroked his ego). She had sighed and said she would have eagerly
traded in her deal for his in a second.
“If only
we could trade,” Markie had replied, trying to imagine what it would be like to
have known more women and dirty deeds.
He had
tried to come to terms with it for what was the alternative? You couldn’t
change a lackluster past no matter how hard you tried. Up until yesterday Markie
was on the road heading straight to martyrdom, with no foreseeable exits; do
not pass go, directly to jail, until Serena offered the elusive detour.
“How about
we just change the future instead?”
“What do
you mean?”
At this
stage Markie still hadn’t see what was coming. He was as innocent as a kid attending
his first day of kindergarten.
“Why don’t
we take a break instead of breaking up? Go off and do what we both need to do,
three months maybe, and once we’re done, continue where we left off.”
Markie had
raised his eyebrows. Hang on a second…
“And just
what is it that you need to do?”
Serena had
looked away and bowed her head.
“Don’t
think I’m exactly impressed with my lot either.”
“But
you’ve had bloody twelve lovers!” Markie had raised his voice, “What more do
you want?”
“A bit of
intimacy within that twelve wouldn’t have gone astray. We women aren’t like you
men; we don’t give a crap for numbers. It’s the relationship that counts.”
“But you
think it’s only fair that we have the same number, right?” Markie had asked,
double-checking that he wasn’t somehow getting screwed (by the same woman yet
again.)
“Yes it’s
fair,” Serena had sighed. “I don’t have a need to go off and sleep with more
people like you do.”
“So what
do you have a need for?”
“Like I
said if I could go back and have what you had with Wanda and Minroe, then I’d
be happy.”
“But you
can’t go back. You slept with strangers, most of whom were nameless.”
“Yes but
what if I was to track some down and make up for lost time?”
“Some?”
Markie asked, because the term was rather loose and undefined.
“You know that
I mean - two, no more than two old one-night-stands. If I can do that then you
can go and have another ten one-off lovers. I don’t care.”
“Neither
do I,” Markie had said, thinking Serena sleeping with two exes was a small
price to pay. Sort of - as long as they were really as bad as she said they
were. Plus you never know; chances were she’d never find those mysterious
ex-lovers.
“That way
when we come back, we come back as equals.”
Serena had
nodded her head reluctantly.
“Yes, as
equals.”
Only then
would the scales be weighted evenly, the load on their shoulders loosened and
shared between the two of them.
“I suppose the first
thing you gotta do is write a list,” Tabitha suggested, “after you’ve unpacked
that is.”
“Right,
after I’ve unpacked,” Serena muttered, flinging her two massive duffel bags
onto the futon. Or should she say her bed for the next six weeks.
It could
have been worse. She could’ve been forced to stay at Tabitha’s cramped,
eccentric terrace indefinitely. But thankfully she and Markie, as joint
property owners on a break and not enduring a break up – big difference- they
decided to do the mature thing. They tossed a coin: heads meant Markie spent
the first six weeks in the house whereas tails equaled Serena moving back during
the latter half. Luckily for Serena tails never failed.
“It’s better
that I’m here first,” she explained to Tabitha. ”It might take me ages to track
down the boys, so when I do, at least I’ll have the place back and all to
myself.”
“Hang on,”
Tabitha interrupted, “Are you actually planning to sleep with other men in your
potential marital bed?”
“That
depends.” The thought hadn’t really crossed Serena’s mind before but now that
it had…it did seem a bit cheap and nasty.
“On what
exactly?” asked Tabitha, loving every minute of this. On the drive over here,
she said it reminded her of a foreign soap opera show.
“Well on
whether Markie has done it before me.”
“And you
think that you’ll be able to tell?”
“Tabitha,
call it women’s intuition or whatever you like. Any intelligent woman would be
able to suss out something like that.”
“Hmm,” she
replied, sounding very unconvinced. “Anyway until then, I don’t mind if you
jiggy-jiggy here. You’re more than welcome to, you know. Condoms are in the
first drawer over there.” She motioned to the nearby walnut brown cabinet.
“Thanks,
but I’d rather buy my own. ‘Glow in the dark’ packs aren’t really my style…”
Nor was
anything else here. Serena cringed looking about the place. If she brought a
date back here he would think she was into medieval tribal bondage, what with
all the scary masks and bearskin on the wall. Add to that effect the antique
furnishings and it’s like she was living inside a cave. Tabitha’s style was
what you would call eclectic, in a bad sense of the word and made only
half-trendy because of her addiction to retro colors. For instance one could
forgive a brown terry-toweling couch when it was draped in fuchsia and a wooden
statue when its eyes and head had been plated in gold.
Still it
was only for six weeks. Serena looked at this share-accommodation thing as if
she were away on camp. No more Markie to tell her she couldn’t watch Sex and
the City because soccer was on; no more steak, egg and bacon sandwiches when
all she felt like for Sunday breakfast was cereal. It would be like one long
slumber party; it would be fun.
“So are
you ready to start on that list?” asked Tabitha an hour later, poking her head
into the study. Oops correction – the new second bedroom. On her head was a
baseball cap, in her hands a red clipboard and a chewed-up pen was tucked
behind her ears. It looked like…gosh, it looked like she was going to interview
Serena!
“Don’t
look so scared,” she said. “This is something you need to do so best to tackle
it early on.”
“In the
same way you tackle all your projects?”
“Tut,
tut.” Tabitha shook her head. “Now is not the time to compare apples with
oranges.”
Serena at
least hoped in the analogy she was the apple. Citrus fruits and anything else
that left stringy bits in her teeth featured prominently on her pet-hate list.
But that was beside the point…why talk about fruit at all when the real problem
was the fruitcake that had gone a tad overboard here? Serena knew she should be
grateful that Tabitha was showing interest- normally only naked men and free
money got her friend’s attention - but gosh, give a best friend a break. She’d
only just arrived. Not even two hours ago Serena had bid farewell to a
boyfriend who now held a gold access pass into other woman’s underpants. Surely
there must be an acceptable mourning period that went along with that?
“No,
definitely no mourning period,” Tabitha said when Serena tried to have a mini
hissy-spit. “Do you think Markie’s at home grieving for you or is he out trying
to get laid?”
Ah, let me
see…
“Fine, fine.
Give me the bloody clipboard and we’ll take that trip down memory lane.”
Okay so
where did they begin?
“Right at
the beginning, with the boy who took away your virginity.”
Serena
groaned. Oh so this was why Tabitha was in such an eager rush to get started.
So she could have a frigging great laugh at her expense.