The Wedding Bet (23 page)

I put my feet up on my couch. I opened a pint of raspberry ice cream to sample, then took it back to the refrigerator. Eating wouldn’t help me to relax. I needed to meditate, consciously relax on purpose. Taking a month off from the Wedding Bet always gave me peace of mind. Whatever else a woman, was she rarely seemed to be alone. I wanted to spend time alone with myself for myself. I needed to recuperate.

Images of all those strange pogo sticks shaking, before my face remained. Like compilation scenes from a women’s porno film. Only the best and biggest pogo sticks remained in my mind from that crazy, fun night at the strip club.

On the staying busy front, business came in from many places. I even received some calls from California to cater weddings out there. This made me a little leery to go back out in the land where Va-ja-jas went for forty million dollars for ten minutes time. How much more would they give for a full blown, three tired, meticulously decorated wedding cake?

I wiped cake batter off my forehead and called Limber & Love. Amy answered.

“How are you doing, Amy?”

“I’m sad. Never been better.” She sniffled. “Life is so tragic at the Women’s Center. This woman came in with her face all bashed in. And…and…”

“Go on, Amy.” Somehow Amy had slipped into my life as a younger sister perhaps. “That’s sad. People sometimes don’t have control over what happens they make after they make choices.”

“I know. But the violence has to stop! Men need to respect our bodies and personal space. I don’t see why they can’t just disagree with us without getting all physical.”

“I agree. Is there anything I can do to help? Does she need money? Place to stay?”

“The Women’s Center found her a place. She could use some money to start over. She has a small baby.”

“Why don’t we drop by the Women’s Center tonight and give her some money? Business has been good since the Brent Parks show.”

“I heard about your Va-Jaooroozoo being highly prized. PR Man told me in confidence.”

“Forget about it, Amy. I had no intentions of dragging you into an iffy deal in Hollywood. Things aren’t all that bad. I picked up a few clients in Hollywood. But I want to check with PR Man to see if I should accept them.”

“I’m glad. PR Man is not—wait he’s back.” Amy held the phone out, “I have Megan B on the line. She wants your advice. I’ll wait until you get back and transfer it”

Thank you, Amy,” I heard PR Man say.

“Megan,” Amy said, “You know we can go over tonight to the Women’s Center if you want?”

“I’ll drop by after about five. I’m putting the finishing touches on a double wedding cake for a double wedding—my first.”

“Congratulations.”

“Yep. The young couple are getting married and one of their parents is renewing their wedding vows.”

“That’s sweet. Ian is getting very serious by the way. He really is talking about staying together forever—now that the dog chasing the helicopter problem is resolved.”

“Wonderful. I’m glad for you.”

“Yep. See you tonight. Here’s Ste—PR Man.”

“Megan, the girl with the priceless Snatcheroozoo!” PR Man began.

We laughed.

“Don’t call me that in public. And I wanted to thank you for your strong support and rock solid values two months back. I never thanked you.”

“That’s quite all right. And you are calling to see if you should do business in California?”

“How did you know?”

“Limber & Love picked up some business in California, too. A first for us Andy is very, very pleased.”

“Does he know how much it cost us?”

“Nah. A little. I didn’t tell him the full sleazy details. I think if it just catering, go for it. If it involves trading body parts, reject it. If it involves, helping two couples trade body parts in marriage, go for it; and if it involves buying body parts reject it. Does that cover everything?”

“Think it does. It seems Aaron Bodwell is getting married.”

“That jerk! Is there a stronger word than hate?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll make all the arrangements over the phone. Then I’ll fly out and do the job. I’d want you by my side if I go out there to set it all up. Especially the day of the wedding, I want you beside me for everything.”

“I’m single. I can pull off a weekend away to California for the Aaron Bodwell wedding. It’s a date.”

“A date.” I laughed. “I don’t know about date. I like you and all, but aren’t you forgetting something.”

I heard a loud bang in the background.

“Shit!”

“What happened?”

“That statuettes’ a little shorter on top than before,” PR Man confessed.

“You sadist! I believe you are deliberately, systematically destroying it. To irk me.”

“Come on, Megan. Not like we’re a couple. It’s just an ornament...an ornament without heads.”

Laughter took over when I tried to visualize the statue of Rick and Ilsa headless. “It can always be glued back on.”

“Not if there’s a line cutting across their neck. I don’t know. I’ll see what I can do to repair it. Right now,” I heard PR Man opening up his desk drawer. “Their heads will have to go here for safe keeping.”

“We’ll fly out there in May. May 11th is the wedding.”

“Marking it in my calendar, Megan.”

“Good. I’ll be over tonight to pick Amy up and make a donation to the Women’s Center. So don’t be alarmed.”

“Am I ever alarmed at seeing you?” PR Man said in a slow deep voice.

“I have only these last two months to go. Till June 9th and then it’ll all be over. Going away to California will be a welcome distraction and excuse to avoid getting hitched.”

“Stay busy. That’s how most men avoid marriage. Busy. Work...busy.”

“I will, PR Man.”

DotheRightThing jumped up into my lap. “No. No. No,” and I laughed. “Now that you see I am not a lonely old cat-lady you want company. Uh Mmmmm.” I smiled and hugged my white tabby. “Mmmmm, you’re so soft and cuddly,” I said as I walked pass the full length mirror in my bedroom.

I halted. I paused.

I whirled around and stared at my form and shape as I held DotheRightThing. “What happen here? No way. Can’t be true.” I shifted from right hip to left hip holding DotheRightThing.

He purred in my arms.

Visually it was true. “DotheRightThing—you make me look fat!” I dropped him immediately and lost ten pounds. “That’s better. Last thing I need is some Hollywood bride suggesting I search for a workout guru.”

Chapter Twelve

On the plane trip out to California PR Man asked me an ethical question. How can you cater Aaron’s marriage when you know what he does?

“How can I cater anyone’s wedding? If I knew fully what happened to the groom and bride of my catered events, I might go broke. No one is perfect. Some just hide their imperfections better than others. If Aaron plays around on his wife, she’s going to find out and they’ll divorce.” I shrugged my shoulders.

Sitting on the plane with PR Man eased my frustrations and longings. I now knew marriage probably wasn’t a bad idea—when I timed it right.

“Let’s reinforce your value system before we arrive. You almost gave in at the strip club. Back to the beginning. Exactly what type of man do you really want?”

“Truthfully. A man who is everywhere?”

“You mean like God?”

“No, like Steve Jobs. That iPod idea. The iPad is sort of bulky.” I made awkward hand gestures as though fumbling with or turning an iPad. “But the iPod—that’s genius.”

“That’s a high standard.”

“Nothing but the best for me.

“What else?”

“Number two. A man who quit his job. Shows he’s got guts. Independence. Bravado.”

“Steve Jobs didn’t quit his job. He got fired.”

“He got his job back at Apple. Made that company greater than it was before he left.”

“Give me another example of that.”

“Bill Clinton.”

“Clinton never got fired.”

“Technicality. After Monica L. his ratings dropped and he made a comeback!”

PR Man became incredulous for some reason. I never second guests someone unless they’re in the friends zone, but PR Man is in the business partner zone. We were like Henry Ford and Edison. PR Man’s growing concern became emotional— almost like. “I—do believe. You’re jealous PR Man!”

“What gave you that bizzaro impression? Did I turn green?”

“Green is for envy; red is for jealousy.”

“I had a brief vacation. I tanned.”

“Sorry about that. I really want a man who becomes a better person after a crisis.”

“Jobs, Clinton fit that description?”

“Didn’t I explain Steve Jobs? Besides if I dated him it would be very erotic. He loved his work. Passionate about his toys.”

“Sales spoken for your product makes you a passionate sales person. No way to know, if Steve Jobs lived like that at home.”

“Never know now,” I smiled. “That’s the type of man I want.”

* * * *

When we arrived out in California, I totally relaxed. Setting up a small place in a once-owned bakery shop made thing easier. The funds for the wedding catering were unlimited. Aaron told me to spend whatever I needed. Do something different. That had never been done in a wedding cake before. So I put all my energy into the project.

PR Man served as my wingman and assistant. In three weeks, everything poured out of my bakery shop like magic. The wedding finished in a peaceful success. PR Man stayed by my side the entire time, day and nights at the hotel, making sure I was never alone with Aaron, or Peter Bigchot.

When I returned to Joinrite City at the end of the month, I thought about this year. How crazy wild and adventurous. Even the random guys leaving the condom boxes outside of my wedding catering shop didn’t annoy me anymore. I found it humorous. And one time when this guy yelled outside.

“I want you for my sweetheart, Megan!”

I didn’t panic. I recorded him on video. Then I called PR Man who sent a cop friend over to chase him away.

Now business picked up so much. I didn’t have time to meet any more men. The Brent Parks rerun kept playing, yeah. It still remained embarrassing seeing me admit over and over I like sex. But all in all, I’d made it through. Now for nine days, all I needed to do fell into the realm of being mysteriously unavailable—with PR Man and wait to win the bet.

Chapter Thirteen