The Sportin' Life (19 page)

I saw Lou without his shirt, and flashed to the image of chicken wings. His arms, although not thin or flabby, looked like chicken wings. And from that image I flashed to Marlon, a guy in
New York
I dated a few times. Like Lou, he was short, macho, dynamic, and aggressive. He was the worst sexual partner I ever had because he was always trying to prove something in bed, something he could never convince me of, at any rate. He was too tough and too lacking in tenderness, and he seemed too distracted to let either of us have a good time. In fact, I felt that his barrage of questions about my likes and dislikes was designed to deny my pleasure rather than enhance it. I hope this wouldn
’
t mean that all guys with little, chicken win arms were lousy lovers, but it did. With Lou it was like being ravished by Attila the Hun. Everything he did irritated me. His grasping little fingers left bruises on my skin, and his twitching limbs jerked arhythmically to deliver his own release while making me feel like a victim trapped beneath a writhing epileptic. How does a man get to be forty something years old, and a gynecologist yet and still not know a thing about a woman
’
s body? It baffled me. If this guy could wreak such havoc and displeasure through sex, it was frightening to think what he might do with a speculum.

It seems to me that good manners are in order, even in bed, and even after you realize that you
’
re with the wrong partner, it seems like the decent thing to finish gracefully, despite the fact that the phrase,
what am I doing here
, is echoing through your head. I had every intention of doing just that until he tried to sit on my face. I could see the headlines in
the Post,
Woman smothered by asshole
. So finally I got him to move and I apologized, trying to maintain my good graces and any remnants of our friendship,
“
Lou, I
’
m sorry. I just don
’
t think this is going to work out.
”
And I got out of his bed, smiling feebly, while all the while I wanted to say,
“
Get off me you troll. Go find a billy goat gruff to fuck.
”

You win some and you lose some, I acknowledge that fact, but my batting average for men just seemed to hover at some point in the sub-basement of normal. It was hopeless. I could survive divorce and poverty. I could build a successful business. I could drive a Honda. But I couldn
’
t find a decent man. I couldn
’
t be a nun because I didn
’
t like their habits. What was the solution? Surely there was something wrong with me, something that branded me a loser in the sweepstakes of love. Perhaps I
’
d never find a man. And if the Lou
’
s of this world were my destiny and my only possibility, I might as well just give up on human interaction. Even Evan, although sexy, seemed like a poor substitute for real love and lifetime commitment. It was hopeless. I was hopeless and without hope.

Despite having work to keep me busy, my mind kept returning to the dismal encounter with Lou, and it seemed that I should sleep with somebody else, anybody else, right away, like a thrown rider insuring himself against a fear of remounting. Standing in line at the movies, I got my chance. Ace was away again, and I was on my own for a few days, so when one of those movie recruiters approached me on the street in Westwood about a free screening the following night, I decided to go. How could a free movie be bad? And so I met Robert, a building contractor, waiting in the movie line. He was reasonably tall, reasonably attractive, reasonably macho, and sexy enough to interest me for a night. And thank heavens, it went OK. He was fun and exciting in bed and he could carry on a conversation. I liked him, and even if I knew he wasn
’
t someone I
’
d want to marry, he seemed like the prince of passion compared to Lou. Of course so would Genghis Khan.

The following day, an artist came into the shop to show some jewelry made not of crystals but rather precious and semi-precious stones. She had all sorts of beautiful items, things far more special and expensive than we usually carried. And for the first time, I looked at the gemstones. By then I was well versed in the energies of crystals and loved their special look and their beauty. I had never been interested in gems, not even diamonds, until then, because they had always seemed like meaningless, extravagant baubles designed to assuage the whims of spoiled women with little of substance to occupy their minds. But Julia had another viewpoint about the stones and she gave me a lesson in the various energies of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. I held them and experienced their energies, and became a convert. I wanted diamonds of my own. They were such cheerful, friendly stones, like rose quartz, but with a giggle. Diamonds seemed to be party stones, and how could you not like that.

Julia told me about the wholesale jewelers downtown where they sell the plain diamond studs I wanted, since she didn
’
t create anything that simple. And she explained the diamond rating system to help me buy stones with good cut, quality, and color. It was complicated, but the chart she drew made it possible to select earrings of good quality for several hundred dollars after walking through the shops and trying some on.

I took my new earrings home and sat on the bed in Ace
’
s guest room, examining their cheerful twinkle and experiencing their happy personality. Soon I wore only the diamonds. They were perfect everyday earrings and they were dressy and special at night. I grew to love them more and more. Wandering through departments stores during my free time, I
’
d pass the costume jewelry with little interest even though in the past it was fun to acquire and wear. Why pay seventy-five dollars for something that was base metal and paste? Ruby jackets cost about that and they were real stones and real gold. Why buy imitation gold hoop earrings when the real ones were so much
—
well
—
realer? My standards had changed. I could no longer appreciate the glitter without meaning that used to be so much fun. It was just money wasted on nothing, like junk food. So in the end, my diamonds saved me money because I no longer wanted the casual bauble that comes and goes according to the whims of designers. I wanted real gold and real stones.

Many people agreed with me, because Julia
’
s pieces flew out of the store. I reordered a huge quantity and doubled the price. They sold just as quickly. And we made more money. Success was a turn on. There
’
s nothing better than being able to walk into a store and buy what you want with your own money that you earned yourself. There
’
s nothing like the confidence that comes with knowing that your survival is assured and that you did it yourself.

There was no question about it. I felt good about myself and the success I had achieved. All that was lacking was a man with whom to share it. In that regard I was a failure. I had tried true love and had failed at it. In fact, true love had nearly destroyed me. I had tried casual affairs but they never lasted. I had tried sleeping around in the days before and after
“
safe sex,
”
and in a way that was the safest of all, despite the fact that it was emotionally draining and mostly unfulfilling. What was the answer? If I could build a robot and call him mine, then perhaps I could have a man in my life. At least I
’
d know that I could always turn him on
—
or unplug him.

I
’
d been on my own for a long time, and for the most part it was a positive experience. It
’
s nice to be free to follow your own whims. But my dream is the standard American dream. I want the home and family, to wear an apron and bake cookies. I want a man to hold me and keep me warm at night. I want to share my life with someone who matters, so that at the end of it all, we can feel that we
’
ve done something. That it all meant something. That it wasn
’
t just blowing in the wind.

What I want is the real thing. I want diamonds. I want the diamond standard to apply to my life, so that what I live is real and meaningful and will last. I looked at my diamonds, and looked in my heart and decided that my standards needed to be raised. I would have to shop around for something real, something that fit on all levels, something that would be more than cheap sex or a cozy dinner. I would have to look for a man to love the way I had loved Kevin, a man who would satisfy me on all levels, as Kevin had.

I thought about Kevin and a sorrow descended over me like exterminator
’
s tenting. Kevin
’
s face floated into my mind to tease and frustrate me. Kevin, Goddamn Kevin. Why had he been such a fool? Why wasn
’
t he here with me now, where he belonged? Why wasn
’
t it Kevin next to me in bed, Kevin
’
s arms around me in the middle of the night, Kevin in line with me at the movies, Kevin across the dinner table?

I thought about Kevin and all resolve to stick to the diamond standard faded. How could I love another man the way I had loved Kevin? How could it be possible, first of all, and secondly, how could I risk it?

I lay in fear and pain and frustration. And then I fell into the dark chasm of dreamless, uncomforted sleep, my diamond earrings lying in shadow on the nightstand beside the bed.

Ace

Home Cooking

After Liana came to
L.A.
, everything seemed to fall into place for me. I stopped fiddling around and decided to consider it home. The first thing I did was buy a Porsche. Hey, this is
Los Angeles
, and what is a successful personal trainer without a Porsche? I did it partly for that reason and partly so I could give my old car to Liana, who seemed to be pretty successful by then, but I didn
’
t want her to have to buy a car and it made no sense at all to rent one for a long time, and I was determined to have her stay not just for a long time but forever.
Los Angeles
was going to be home for her and for me and then for Violet too, and we were going to be a family until we both got married and created a larger family. Being a hound on the prowl has just never appealed to me.

I set about winning Liana over to Los Angeles the way a Don Juan plans a seduction, only it turned out to be unnecessary because Liana took to the place immediately, in fact much more intensely than I ever did, and she was so thrilled when she saw the plans for her store and all that I had done in advance that it was obvious that I had made the right decision. And Liana
’
s gallery seemed to be the right thing not just for Liana but for the customers of
Beverly Hills
as well, and as she created an even greater success than she had in
New York
with her partner, I was proud to observe it and to acknowledge my own part in it.

Each night we
’
d meet after work and I would take Liana to a new place, sometimes places I
’
d frequented before and enjoyed like the numerous little cafes in Westwood or the fancier places on Sunset or La Cinega. Sometimes we
’
d just go exploring together to see what we could discover as a team, and it was always fun and exciting. Liana loved the malls, and we visited each one, prowling through every department, whether for her, for me, for Violet, or for household items.
“
Ace look at these bargains,
”
Liana would squeal,
“
Saks at home never had sales like this. Ohh, this is great!
”
And then we
’
d buy whatever the many-times discounted item was and congratulate ourselves on the acquisition and on our good fortune.

I wanted Liana to connect with some friends, something I really hadn
’
t managed to do all that well, so I planned parties and lunches for her, and in doing that cemented my relationships with my clients and got Liana launched as well. Then we began getting invited to parties and being included in some of the social activities and it was clear that if I had made more of an effort to know the people I trained, I might have found in them the friends I longed for all along.

I introduced Fauna to Liana, and hoped that the good qualities of each would rub off on the other, but there never seemed to be much chemistry there. Fauna is a crackerjack business woman with the soul of a lonely little girl and Liana is classy and independent, and I guess Fauna felt a little intimidated. They were polite and friendly, but I knew that there were no sparks. Liana did give Fauna a crystal, which Fauna seemed to love, and in return Fauna spent some time helping me find a nice little house in
Rancho
Park
, where she had bought her first home. Of course how any place that expensive can be called a nice little neighborhood, I can
’
t imagine, but it had the kind of homey quality that I crave and I was sure it would be an ideal place for Violet to grow up and to find new friends when she moved here from
New York
and completed our family. Liana helped me pack and we moved in after Christmas, after Violet had gone back from her holiday visit, filled with tales of
Disneyland
and the Santa Monica Pier merry-go-round and enthused about coming here to live.