CHAPTER 3

DICK WHISTLES

MIRYAM

“Do you want big dicks or small dicks?”

“Do I want what?”

My best friend Sheba sits on the floor of my living room with her iPad. “What am I saying? Of course you want the big dick whistles. Those are going in the cart. Do you want a plain tiara, or do you want a giant dick on that, too?”

My life is literally perfect, except for the bachelorette party Sheba has been planning for weeks. When I was taking the bar a few years ago, I never imagined I’d be forced to choose between tiaras with or without genitalia. I survived law school, I got a job at the firm on the top of my list, and I got engaged to the most handsome attorney in Miami.

David Rosenberg is the youngest junior partner at Klein, Horowitz, and Liebman. He’s accomplished more in thirty-two years than most people in their fifties. He’s intelligent, he’s driven, and he’s drop-dead gorgeous. I don’t consider myself a shallow person. There are far more important things than being good-looking. However, attractiveness has long been synonymous with strength and health. Both are paramount when considering a mate. Survival of the species depends upon it. I studied this in my required semester of sociology. Ergo, I cannot be shallow. I’m concerned with the survival of the species.

I saw David on my first day and I was intrigued. He is that person who can command a room simply by walking into it. Juries hang on his every syllable. He’s poised at all times. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It almost became an obsession. I pursued him. It’s the twenty-first century and women have more than just voting rights now. I asked him out for drinks one night when we were leaving the office. He accepted. We just clicked.

He understands me in ways no one else ever has. We skipped all of the fake mating dance I hate in relationships. We didn’t pretend to like things the other person liked. We weren’t artificially nice to each other. We were unapologetically ourselves. After a few dates, we mutually agreed to become exclusive. Three months later, we took a trip to Napa Valley to advance our relationship. That went well, so we took the next step of introducing the other to our families. His family was perfectly cordial. All the members of his family are attorneys. I think their dog even had his J.D.

He checked all the boxes for my family. He’s Jewish, he’s single, and he’s financially stable. The fact that he’s an attorney bumped him up a few notches in my aunts’ eyes. Nothing has ever made more sense to me than to marry David. He proposed exactly one year and four days after our first date. He took me to our favorite restaurant. He handed me an envelope containing an engagement ring with a three carat center stone wrapped in a prenuptial agreement. I came close to crying. Nothing could’ve been more perfect.

We hired a wedding planner to take care of all the details because we are far too busy to get bogged down in the minutia of choosing music and menus and the like. Sheba is horrified I let the wedding planner pick my dress. She insists that I let her have full control over the bachelorette party. I could not care less about a party, but she says I am not allowed to get married without one.

“I’ll get you the regular tiara. That’s my gift to you, Miryam. I won’t put any dicks on your head. At least until the stripper gets here.” She pretends to be looking at her iPad, but she is really watching my expression out of the corner of her eyes.

“I was clear on the no stripper policy. I had two requests: No strippers and no bouquets made of condoms. I’m adding one more. This house has to stay in pristine condition. I can’t have it trashed in case the buyers want to do more inspections.”

I am moving into David’s condo as soon as I’m done packing. I already have a buyer for my house and we’re closing in a month. I can’t wait to get married and start the next phase of my life as Mrs. Miryam Wexler-Rosenberg.

“We’re not trashing your house. We’re only meeting up here and then the limo will pick us up. We’ll go bar hopping until we can’t hop anymore.” She jumps up and hugs me from the side. “I just want everything to be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be.”

I turn my face away from her until I can blink back the tears. My mom passed when I was ten. I miss her so much every day it hurts. I don’t remember her as well as I want to. I think she would be happy to see the life I have now. My grandmother raised me. I would do anything for her. I love seeing how proud she is of what I’ve made of my life. She lost her eyesight to glaucoma about six months ago. I try not to think of how little time I might have left with her. Grandma is a tough cookie and she will probably outlive us all, though.

Sheba has been trying to make up for my mom’s absence. She knows I don’t like talking about her, so she’s made sure our wedding planner has reserved a special place in the ceremony to honor her. Sheba takes good care of me. We’ve been friends since we were in pigtails. She’s the yin to my yang. She pulls off a short hairdo like a pro, where I have the same long, dark hair I’ve had since a teenager. Her hair color ranges from white blonde to fuchsia. It’s currently blonde. She gets tanned from walking near a window, so of course she’s stunning with the contrast.

I look back at my beautiful best friend. “Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

She waves her hand dismissively. “You tell me all the time. You know I would marry you myself if we both didn’t love the D so much.” She takes my arm and pulls me to the sofa. “Speaking of, what are you wearing for the honeymoon? Have you decided yet?”

I take the stack of extra sheets sitting on the sofa and set them in the open box next to me. I don’t know why it’s taking so long to pack up this house. I expected to be out weeks ago. “I think we’re going to skip the honeymoon. David has a heavy caseload right now and I have to be in court the Monday after the wedding. We might take a trip later.”

Sheba sits up on her knees so she’s a full head taller than me. “I thought you were kidding when you said you were on the fence about a honeymoon! I should’ve known better. You can’t get married and go back to work. That’s crazy! You need to sit on a beach in a tiny bikini somewhere. You won’t have this rockin’ body forever, you know. We’ll both be thirty soon and it all goes south from there.”

She has a point. It would be nice to have some down time with David before we get back into our hectic schedule. “Maybe we can do a little weekend trip to The Bahamas. That could be fun.”

Sheba rubs her hands together. “There’s my girl!” She jumps up and grabs her iPad. “Let’s book it right now. Then we need to order you all the skimpy bikinis and slutty lingerie.”

I like the idea of planning this trip for us. I can surprise him with it when I move into his house. Our schedules are always so full and it’s rare we have a chance to relax with no cell phones or laptops. I like the idea of starting our marriage off with some relaxation. “David is a fan of the slutty lingerie.”

Sheba laughs. “All men are fans of the slutty lingerie.”

I look over her shoulder while she unlocks her iPad. The cart on a party supply site pops up. “Why does everything in your cart have a hot pink penis?”

She opens a new search tab. “Don’t worry about it. You’re going to have the best bachelorette party in history.”

I form tiny spikes in her hair while she works. “You have seen a real penis before, right, Sheba? You know they’re not supposed to be hot pink, right?”

“I haven’t placed the order yet. I can still get the penis tiara.”

I really don’t want a pink phallus sticking out of my head like an X-rated unicorn. “I’ll shut up.”

“That’s what I thought.” She goes to a travel site and searches for packages to The Bahamas. There are plenty to choose from. “We need to find a place that has separate cabanas so you can scream as loud as you want.”

“I told you I’m not a screamer. Stop trying to convert me like it’s your religion.”

She clicks on a hotel that has little bungalows right on the beach. “You can be trained. Men love it when you’re screaming because of them and not at them.” She taps on the screen. “I think this place is perfect. You can go from the bed to the beach with only a five second commute.”

I take her iPad and scroll through the pictures. It looks like the most heavenly place I’ve ever seen. She’s right. She’s always right. It’s perfect. I grab my wallet sitting atop the stack of boxes along the living room wall. I think I’m more excited about this trip than I am the actual ceremony. Not that I’m not excited about the ceremony. It seems like more of a formality to validate my relationship with David. The ceremony is more for my family and his than it is for us.

I book the airfare and hotel. I can almost taste the tropical drink in my hand. David will be so excited when I tell him. We don’t go on many trips. He is determined to make senior partner by forty, so he works some long hours. I know I’m signing up for a lot of nights at home alone, but he’s worth it. We are going to build an incredible life together.