Chapter 12: The Eds

After some thought and discussion, it was decided that the Eds would join Erica for dinner at Caleb’s house. “Neutral territory, better for our discussions.”

Generously, Laura volunteered to prepare a lovely meal for the four of them. But she was adamant: “I am not letting my food anywhere near that revolting table of yours. It will come over to you through the side gate and straight into your formal dining room.”

As a bonding experience with her new “stepmother,” Marina pitched in to help with the shopping and the cooking. Donna slipped into the kitchen and snapped off a few photos of the cooks working together, with smiles on their faces.

At six o’clock, Caleb’s doorbell sounded. Erica was wearing a satin dress in a deep forest green over black leather pumps. A simple gold chain necklace dangled into her generous décolletage, exposed by the deep neckline. Her escorts wore similar suits in black linen with white shirts, one wearing a solid blue tie, the other solid green.

“Caleb Carnegie, may I present Ed and Ed.”

“Erica thinks she’s funny, Caleb. I’m Ed Rawlings, and he’s Ed Wilson.”

Caleb made a subtle motion of recognition, which Ed Rawlings noticed. “Yes, like the baseball gloves.”

“But you brats are going to make me guess, aren’t you?”

“It’s Erica’s idea: who’s prediction comes closest without going over is the winner.”

“Alright, I will keep count. 1, Edward. 2, Edgar. 3, Eddie. 4, Edwin.”

Rawlings raised his hand.

“Hmm. 5, Edison. 6, Edsel. 7, Eduardo. No? 8, Eddis. 9, Edith.”

“Edith?!” Erica laughed.

“Can’t you see I’m struggling?”

Wilson asked, “Do you give up?”

“Never give up! Never surrender! Ah, 10, Edmund.”

Edmund Wilson raised his hand. “Rawlings is the winner, he picked ten. We can defer the prize until later, I guess.”

At the archway to the dining room, Laura gestured with her arm. “Dinner is, ah, served. Erica, your Eds are awfully handsome. If I wasn’t taken, I’d be asking if they have any brothers who are straight.

“Please come in and take your seats. I’m Laura Ortega, soon I’m going to be one of Erica’s daughters in law. For you tonight, her granddaughter Marina and I have prepared chicken piccata, butternut squash, and a garden salad. And I have a bottle of California chardonnay out of the fridge and already opened for you.

“It’s good I opened it early to breathe a little, because our host is the only gay American man who doesn’t own a corkscrew.

“We’re going to leave now and let you enjoy your dinner. There’s some gelato in there if you want dessert later.

“Just one more thing.” Laura started to get emotional and choked up. Marina came out and put her arm around her. “Obviously, we worked hard to cook for you tonight. I know you’ll enjoy what we prepared. Because I wanted you gentlemen to realize, Caleb is an exceptional man, he means everything to me and my family. Bon appetit.”

They left, and Caleb looked abashed. “Sorry about that, guys. This smells so good, let’s eat!”

Postprandial Distension

Groaning, Wilson remarked, “My belly is tight as a drum, I can’t believe how much food I just ate. I think my next meal will be three days from now.”

“Oh, my goodness, that was so good,” added Rawlings. “Andrew is going to get so fat, married to her.”

“She’s a twin, Ed, and Andrew is marrying both of them. And my granddaughter Marina is marrying Steven and his sister Donna. There will be two triads in our family.

“And that, my dear old friends, is why you’re here tonight. I’m about to ask, no, I mean, I’m asking now, that both of you help my family with your special knowledge and expertise. Like back years ago before same-sex marriage, I need your help with creating the non-marital but practical and legal foundations of these polyamorous relationships.

“You know, contracts, trusts, and so forth. Like you used to do for the gay couples before legal marriages.

“If I remember correctly, you,” indicating Rawlings, “were the legal expert, and you,” indicating Wilson, “were the taxation guy, different emphases but both of you working as lawyers.”

“Erica, oh, Erica. I don’t want to say no to you,” objected Wilson, shaking his head. “But this is a lot of work you’re talking about, and we’re retired now. And, I’m very sorry to say, this kind of project only succeeds when the two of us work together closely and cooperatively.

“Ed and I are no longer having that kind of relationship.”

Rawlings added, sadly, and frowning, “He’s moved into the other bedroom.”

Wilson looked down at his plate, unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes. He looked even more unhappy, but also tense.

“Oh, no! My friends, I knew there were problems, but I didn’t think it was getting this bad. But you guys are so intelligent, I can guess you already guessed why we are here with our host in his house.

“Caleb is a gifted man, and by that I mean he is a supremely capable therapist. He has all the credentials and years of great success with all kinds of people’s personal struggles. Did you also notice he’s just about the cutest gay man in central Indiana? After you two, of course.

“C’mon, guys, both of you. Take a look. He’s so cute when he’s blushing.

“I know it’s a lot to ask. Please, your old friend Erica is asking you. Your chef Laura is asking you.”

Joining in, “And your new friend Caleb is asking, I’m asking. Let me talk to you. I can help you, I can make things better, if you want to try.

“Ed, will you try?” (indicating Rawlings.)

“Ed, will you try?” (indicating Wilson.)

Erica was holding her breath. Still fixated on his plate, Wilson inclined his head, stiffly.

Turning to Rawlings, Caleb waited, patiently. Moments passed.

“Alright.”

Erica gasped loudly. “Thank God!”

The Glider

Caleb decided and spoke to Rawlings. “Ed, let’s speak privately, out on the veranda.”

Beside Caleb’s front door was a small porch area with enough space for a two-seat outdoor glider and an armchair arranged to form an ‘L’ shape. Caleb took the armchair under the living room window facing out.

“Ed, in these kinds of situations I prefer to be very direct. After so many years together, which according to Erica were happy and productive, what has happened to your relationship?”

“To be blunt, Caleb, there’s another Ed in our relationship.”

“Mizuno? THAT BASTARD!”

“Another fucking comedian. Laugh at my pain, you asshole.”

[Author’s Note: Mizuno is in third place with a 10% share of the market for baseball gloves.]

“Caleb, the third Ed in our relationship is capital-E capital-D, erectile dysfunction. My man had some trouble, and now he refuses to touch me. If I try to initiate, he flees. And he WON’T talk about it. And, yes, he says he’s tried the pills.

“I’m so frustrated! And, it’s not because of the lack of sex. I miss it, sure. He misses it, too, I can tell. But I care more that we’re together. That we’re still cuddling, and kissing. We SHOULD be. It breaks my heart.”

He sat there, clearly anguished. Caleb waited patiently, enjoying the pleasant evening air. His quiet veranda felt private because of the shrubbery in the front yard and a full planter of flowers on the railing. On a short blind street, there was no traffic noise.

“Do you think he believes you will abandon him for somebody younger and more virile?”

“God, no, I could never. Is he worried? I hope not. He should know, he used to know. I couldn’t do that to him, not in a million years. We talked once or twice about having a threesome, but being secretly unfaithful was never in the cards.”

“Imagine if he had a tape of these last 15 minutes. So he’d know how you really felt. Your romance, still so strong. Your loyalty.

“Good news, Ed. There is a videotape, well, the digital equivalent. You and I will show it to him, and your issues will be resolved.”

“WHAT?

“OK, this is embarrassing. I really didn’t intend for this, but I completely forgot.”

“Forgot what? The tape?”

“Yeah, I didn’t warn you before you were talking. I can erase it.”

Ed (Rawlings, the lawyer) was getting frustrated, on his way to angry.

“WHERE is this ‘tape?’”

“I’m sorry. It’s my automatic video doorbell. It comes on whenever there’s activity in front of the door. The recording can be easily erased from the system.

“You might be thinking, OK, problem identified, we tell him you won’t cheat and haven’t cheated, issues resolved. You would be wrong. Completely wrong. You ever heard of Maslow’s Hammer?”