Hot Flash (2 page)

Authors: Kathy Carmichael

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

Connie, seated beside MaryEllen, leaned over to read her fortune. “Oh, that’s a good one.”

MaryEllen beamed. “It says,
Invest in manufacturing and manufacture goodness.”

The three women looked at me. I hadn’t opened mine yet, so I cracked my cookie and pulled out the thin white strip of paper.
“You will renew acquaintance with a dark-haired stranger.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? How do you renew acquaintance with someone you don’t know? “I wanted a scholarship, dammit.”

“Too bad it didn’t work out with the Asshole Professor,” consoled MaryEllen.

“Free tuition, down the drain.” I sighed. It had been a perfect solution. If I’d married the Asshole Professor, Stephen would have gotten free tuition at NU as the son of an employee.

It took me a week after our breakup to realize I’d been “settling” when I considered marrying the Asshole Professor. But let me tell you, there’s nothing wrong with settling when college tuition is part of the deal.

Connie pointed at my boobs with her chopstick. “At least you got something out of the bargain. I wish one of my ex-boyfriends had bought me bodacious chachas.”

When the Asshole Professor offered me boobs, I figured, why not? I’d always been embarrassed by my lack of a figure, and having boobs would make me feel more … feminine. And they are awesome, even if I do say so myself. “I wonder if they’re what gave him the idea of running off with his student? Once he saw the breasts of a twenty-year-old, maybe he had to discover what the rest of her looked like?”

Even worse, the Asshole Professor’s new squeeze was closer in age to Stephen than to me. I sucked in my stomach. In the right light and with my stomach tucked in and if I didn’t breathe, someone might conceivably think I was twenty or at least under thirty.

“Forget the professor. I have an idea that’ll help me find Mr. Right—and hopefully he’ll be in a position to pay Stephen’s tuition.” I pulled a list of questions from my pocket. “My parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary is coming up and Mom left me with a huge stack of newspaper ‘“Style’“ sections about couples celebrating their anniversaries. Looking at all those photos of smiling married couples who seemed so happy made me want to know why their marriages lasted. I want to know if there’s a recipe for marital success.”

“So?”

“I’m going to ask them.” I gulped, then unfolded the paper, smoothed it, and placed it faceup in the middle of the table, careful to avoid the soy sauce spill. “I’m tired of Mr. Wrongs. I need Stephen’s tuition, and gaining a real relationship would be a bonus. I’m thinking these couples can point me in the right direction.”

Susan grabbed it before the others got a look at it. “This is awesome!”

“What is it?” asked Connie.

“A survey for happily married couples. Why didn’t any of us think of this before?” She passed the list to MaryEllen, who quickly scanned it, then handed it on to Connie.

“You’re sending it to the couples in the newspaper?”

“That’s the idea. I checked some of the names from the newspapers and most of them are listed in the phone book.”

“It’s a very good idea.” Susan looked at me approvingly. MaryEllen looked at me encouragingly. Connie didn’t look at me at all. She was mesmerized by my survey questions.

“You know,” said MaryEllen, who by this point had lost her esses, “I think we can improve on the zurvey. There’z nothing on there about vibratorz.”

“Vibrators! There’s nothing on here about
sex!”
Connie looked at me as though I’d lost my mind.

“Give me the PDA I gave you,” said Susan.

I remembered her giving me the PDA, but I a) wasn’t sure how to use it and b) was fairly certain it was sitting with the pile of other birthday gifts I’d received from them at my apartment. I must have looked blank, because Susan added, “I stuck it in your purse.”

It took me a second to find it and give it to her.

She opened the keyboard. “I’m going to retype your survey with our suggestions added to it. I really think you should do this. I’m dying to know what other married women think.”

“Are you ready to type?” Connie asked Susan. “I’ve got suggestions out the ying-yang.”

“Ready.”

“In the section where they rate items of importance in a successful marriage, there has to be something about sex. Whether the husband or wife are great lovers, whether they both are, or whether they’re both lousy. That kind of thing. Also frequency. Do they hump like bunnies?”

“Isn’t that kind of personal?” I asked. “I mean, would they tell me that kind of thing?”

“I’m fairly certain I know how to handle it,” said Susan, her fingers typing so fast I thought she might create some kind of minor cyclone.

MaryEllen spoke up. “You’re mizzing one item that iz eztremely important.”

“And it iz—I mean, is?”

“Doez the huzband azk for directionz when he’z lozt?”

“Does any man?”

“My huzband doez,” said MaryEllen. “It’z one of hiz mozt a-mor-al traitz.”

I think she meant admirable, but I’m not 100 percent certain. “Maybe we should add something about assembling bikes on Christmas Eve when the instructions are written in a foreign language?”

“Screw that,” said Connie. “Just make sure that survey has plenty of questions about sex.”

“Zex makez a lot of zenze.” MaryEllen bobbed her head in agreement but couldn’t seem to stop bobbing.

“Time to cut off the saki,” said Susan, who cringed at each of MaryEllen’s head bobs. “I don’t want any of you getting sick in my car.”

By the time we’d paid, Susan had a final draft of the survey, ready for me to send out.

MARRIAGE SATISFACTION SURVEY

1. How long have you been married?

A) 25–35 years B) 36–45 years C) 46-plus years D) Can’t remember

2. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being sucky and 10 being awesome, how happy would you rank your marriage?

3. Please rank the following on how important you believe they are in the success of your marriage (scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being not important and 10 being absolutely necessary):