by J. J. Murray
“Don’t be, Tony,” Aika said. “At least you don’t stare at my ass all day.”
“Hey, it’s my way of flirting,” Angelo said. He squeezed her left buttock and kissed her neck.
“But she will be your wife,” Tony said. “You should not have to flirt with her anymore.”
“Flirting keeps our relationship fresh,” Angelo said. “And I don’t mind if you look at Aika, Tony. As long as you don’t touch her.”
“I will not touch her,” Tony said. “But you must find someone like Angela and Aika for me who is dark brown.”
“Not this again,” Angelo said.
“Did you include me with Angela this time, Tony?” Aika asked.
“Yes,” Tony said. “You are very pretty.”
“Thank you,” Aika said. “That’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever gotten.”
Angelo sat up and rubbed Aika’s back. “He still wants me to be his pimp,” he whispered.
Aika elbowed Angelo in the ribs. “That was rude.”
“He didn’t hear me,” Angelo whispered. “Ever since he came back from Angela’s, that’s all he’s been talking about. I was hoping he’d get over it.”
“I want a dark brown woman so we can have snowflake children,” Tony said.
“It doesn’t sound as if he’s over it,” Aika said.
“Tony, be realistic,” Angelo said. “What woman of any color will want to marry you?”
“I do not know,” Tony said.
“Well, if you don’t know. . . .” Angelo shrugged. “How will I know how to find her for you?”
Tony stood. “I want you to help me find her.”
Aika moved to the other end of the couch. “Well? Help him.”
“Help him do what?” Angelo asked.
“Help him find a dark brown woman,” Aika said. “Let him look at Match.com or something.”
“But the Knicks are on,” Angelo said.
“They’ll fall apart in the fourth quarter as always and lose,” Aika said. She hit several buttons on the remote, and the opening Google screen appeared. She typed in “Match.com” on the remote’s little keyboard and handed the remote to Angelo.
Angelo rolled his eyes. “I suppose you want me to create a profile for him, too.”
“Not yet,” Aika said. “Let’s see what kind of woman Tony likes first.”
After plugging in “11201” for the zip code and selecting “within 10 miles,” Angelo stood in front of the television. “Let’s talk about age first,” he said. “How old or how young do you want her to be?”
“I do not care,” Tony said.
“As long as she’s dark brown, I know,” Angelo said. “Let’s make her at least thirty but less than forty, okay?”
“Why?” Aika asked.
“Because she can’t be a young thing with no sense and she can’t be an old thing who’s desperate,” Angelo said.
“I’m forty-two,” Aika said. “I must be desperate, huh?”
“No, you waited for the right man,” Angelo said.
“And where is he?” Aika asked.
“Funny,” Angelo said. “Okay, Tony, how tall do you want her to be?”
“I do not care,” Tony said.
“Let’s make her between five-one and five-ten,” Angelo said.
“Why?” Aika asked.
“Are you going to ask ‘why’ for every category?” Angelo asked.
“Probably,” Aika said. “Tony, do you want her to be Angela’s height or my height?”
“I like your height,” Tony said. “And I like Angela’s height.”
“Between five-one and five-six,” Aika said.
Angelo made the change. “What about her body type, Tony?”
“She must have a body,” Tony said.
“I know that,” Angelo said. “Do you want her to be skinny, ripped, or stacked?”
“It says ‘slender,’ ‘athletic,’ and ‘curvy,’ Angelo,” Aika said.
“I like slender,” Tony said. “Aika is slender.” He read the screen. “Her eyes must be brown and her hair must be black.”
At least he’s sure what he wants there, Angelo thought. “Okay, let’s look at common interests.”
Tony scanned the screen. “Music and concerts.”
Angelo clicked the box. “Anything else?”
“Coffee and conversation,” Tony said.
“How about ‘Exploring new areas,’ too,” Aika said.
“Yes,” Tony said. “I like to explore.”
Angelo clicked the boxes. “Okay. Ethnicity?”
“Black or of African descent,” Tony said. “That is all I need.”
“You don’t care if she smokes or drinks?” Aika asked.
“I care,” Tony said. “No smoking or drinking.”
Angelo checked the appropriate boxes and clicked the search button. Eighteen pictures of New York–area black women appeared on the screen.
“Only eighteen,” Angelo said. “That’s a shame.”
“Look at the bottom of the screen,” Aika said. “This is page one of six.”
“Oh,” Angelo said.
“One hundred and eight women,” Tony said. He left his chair and stood in front of the television, his eyes moving from photo to photo. He pointed at one woman. “Her ears and nose have too many earrings.” He pointed at another. “She has too many teeth.” He pointed at another. “That is not her hair.”
Aika wrenched the remote from Angelo’s hand. “Let me help you, Tony.” She clicked on one woman’s picture. “Oh, shoot. We have to register first.” She sighed. “I’ll just sign in.”
“What?” Angelo said. “You still have a profile there?”
“Yes,” Aika said. “And I still get e-mail from men, so you better do right by me.” She rubbed her left ring finger.
“Soon,” Angelo said. “Very soon.”
Aika smiled and signed in, and the first woman’s full profile appeared. “What about this woman? She likes singing, taking walks at the beach with her dog, cooking Italian food, and dancing.”
“I cannot dance,” Tony said.
“She could teach you,” Aika said.
“She is too . . . curvy,” Tony said.
“There’s nothing wrong with curves,” Aika said.
“Her body makes me dizzy,” Tony said.
Aika returned to the first photoset, clicking on the next woman’s picture. “What about her? She is a high-school math teacher who enjoys working out and playing the piano for her church.”
“She cannot play my piano,” Tony said. “She wears too much makeup. She should not have silver eyelids and silver lips.”
“You’re being too picky, Tony,” Angelo said.
“And you weren’t?” Aika asked.
“Well, yeah, of course I was,” Angelo said.
Aika sighed. “What exactly should she look like, Tony?”
“She must look like Angela McConnell at Angela’s Sweet Treats and Coffee on Driggs Avenue in Williamsburg,” Tony said. “She must also look like Aika Saito of the Castle.”
“I am so flattered, Tony,” Aika said.
“There’s only one Angela in the world, and there’s only one Aika in the world,” Angelo said. “They’re both one in a million, Tony.”
“There are seven billion people on earth,” Tony said. “If Angela is one in a million and Aika is one in a million, there are fourteen thousand women like them on earth.”
“What Angelo is saying is that Angela and I are unique,” Aika said. “There is no one like us anywhere in the world.”
“But I like Angela,” Tony said. “And I like you.”
“We know you do,” Aika said.
“I must find someone like you and Angela,” Tony said. “Click on the next woman.”
An hour later, Tony had found something “wrong” with all 108 women. “Show me more,” he said.
“This is a longshot, but . . .” Aika typed in “Second Chances” and hit ENTER. “I heard abo
ut this show at work. It’s like that show we watched the other night, Tony.”
“Rich Man, Lucky Lady,” Tony said. “I did not like that show. The women told lies. Angela does not tell lies. You do not tell lies.”
Angelo had been surprised that the show had held Tony’s attention all the way through. He was most surprised when Tony called out “LIES!” or “TRUTH!” before the words flashed onto the screen—and he had been correct every time.
“I miss that show,” Aika said.
“The rich man did not find love,” Tony said.
“True,” Aika said, “but it was certainly entertaining, like this show will most likely be. People go on this show to look for love, too.”
“I will go on television to look for love,” Tony said.
“That isn’t happening,” Angelo said. “This show is about second chances. You haven’t had a first chance yet.”
“I want a first chance,” Tony said.
“This show could be a first chance for him, Angelo,” Aika said. “He’s famous enough.”
“No way,” Angelo said.
“Ignore him, Tony,” Aika said, reading the screen. “Oh, this is different. Viewers get to vote on who gets on this show. Those are the twelve finalists.”
“Wow,” Angelo said. “Nine white, one Hispanic, one Asian, and one black. Ain’t America great?”
Tony zeroed in on the black woman. “I want her. She looks like Angela.” Tony blinked. “She has your smile, Aika.”
“You want to vote for Trina?” Aika asked.
“I want Trina,” Tony said.
“One vote for Trina,” Aika said, and she cast a vote. “That Asian girl isn’t completely Asian. I’ll bet she’s half-white or something.”
Tony took the remote from Aika. “I want Trina.”
“Tony, that’s not going to happen,” Angelo said. “Never in a million years.”
“Let him at least read her bio first,” Aika said. “Click on her picture, Tony.”
Tony moved the pointer to Trina’s picture and clicked ENTER. “ ‘Robert and I met as undergrads at UCSF.’”
“Let me read it, Tony,” Aika said. “It may sound different if you hear a woman’s voice reading it.”
“I like your voice,” Tony said. “It is soft cotton.”
“There you go flirting again,” Angelo said.
“Thank you for another compliment, Tony,” Aika said. “At least I get compliments from him.” She turned to the screen. “ ‘Robert and I met as undergrads at UCSF. He was going to be a surgeon, and I was going to be a nurse. We married after graduation, I passed the NCLEX on the first try, I became an RN, and I agreed to fund his dream because I believed in him. I worked double-shifts at Saint Francis Memorial Hospital as often as I could for most of our marriage.’ ”
“She works at Saint Francis Memorial Hospital,” Tony said. “That is in Nob Hill in San Francisco.”
“How do you know that?” Aika asked.
“He has memorized much of San Francisco,” Angelo said. “Ask him about Chinatown sometime. Keep reading.”
“ ‘And then my husband met and started an affair’—figures—‘with a surgeon at San Francisco General Hospital. “I’m going to be late again tonight,” he often told me. “I have a seminar I have to attend over the weekend.” I thought he was putting in extra time to be a more skillful surgeon. I thought he was working longer hours so he could better provide for us. I thought he loved me.’ Wow.”
“What is an affair?” Tony asked.
Angelo sat up. My brother has asked a question. This is ... rare. “Her husband cheated on her. Not like cheating in school where you look at someone else’s answers. He had sex with another woman.”
“When you’re married, Tony,” Aika said, “you’re not supposed to have sex with anyone but the person you marry.”
“Oh,” Tony said. “Affairs are bad.”
“Yes,” Aika said. She continued reading. “ ‘I found out about the affair when he told me, “I’ve found someone who will be better for my career. I hope you understand.’ What a turd. ‘And then he filed for divorce, not me, citing irreconcilable differences.’ Do you know what that means, Tony?”
“I sometimes see what Delores watches,” Tony said. “It is called Divorce Court. It means they are too different.”
“Right,” Aika said. “ ‘Because I couldn’t afford a decent lawyer and his mistress could, I didn’t get much in the way of alimony. It barely pays one-third of the credit-card bill he left me with.’ Poor woman.”
“Do you know what alimony is, Tony?” Angelo asked.
“Yes,” Tony said. “It is a monthly paycheck the judge orders one spouse to pay another. What is a mistress?”
Two specific questions, Angelo thought. “A mistress is a woman a man has sex with who is not his wife.”
Tony nodded. “I do not like Trina’s husband.”
“Neither do I,” Aika said. “ ‘For the last two years, I have been living in a cramped apartment near where I work because I can’t afford a car or even bus fare. I need new work shoes and a rain jacket that doesn’t leak here in “sunny” San Francisco. I need a microwave from this millennium that doesn’t dim all the lights in my apartment. I need a bigger bed.’ ”
“I can give her those things,” Tony said. “She needs those things.” He read the next paragraph. “ ‘I also need a man to keep me company, to keep me warm at night, to talk to me, to listen to me, and to love me.’” Tony nodded several times. “I can do all those things.”
“All except for the love part,” Angelo said.
“Angelo!” Aika cried. “That was cruel.”
Angelo shrugged. “I’m just saying, and you know it’s true.”
“I can love someone, Angelo,” Tony said.
“Aika, keep reading,” Angelo said.
“I can love someone, Angelo,” Tony said.
“I heard you,” Angelo said. “Keep reading.”
“ ‘I gave up ten years of my life so my ex-husband could become a surgeon. I did this by choice.’” Aika shook her head. “I don’t even know this woman, but I like her. She makes no apologies for doing the right thing. ‘I sacrificed everything for him, and I would do it again. That’s the kind of person I am. And all I have to show for our marriage are his bills and some bad memories. I don’t have children because we were putting off children until he could support us. I could have had at least two children by now to love.’ ”
“I could give her children,” Tony said.
“And you’d be her meal ticket for life,” Angelo said.
“Angelo, please,” Aika said. “ ‘I have very little. I deserve a second chance at love.’” Aika flipped the remote to Angelo. “She does, you know.”
“She is the one,” Tony said. “I want Trina.”
Angelo scratched his head. “You don’t want Trina, Tony.”
Aika flopped onto the couch. “It sounds as if he does.”
“She’s some random woman on a reality TV show,” Angelo said. “I could show him a different woman ten minutes from now, and he’d say, ‘I want her.’”
“I want her, Angelo,” Tony said. “I really want her.”
“Okay, why, Tony?” Angelo asked.
“Trina is honest,” Tony said. “She is dark brown. Her face is an angel’s face. She has soft brown eyes with flecks of gold.”
“Her eyes look so tired,” Aika said. “It doesn’t look as if she wears any makeup. She’s a natural beauty.”
“She probably can’t afford makeup,” Angelo said. “And her ex-husband wasn’t a turd, Tony. He was an asshole, but Trina might not be telling the entire truth. Maybe she did something wrong in the marriage.”
“Her eyes are tired because of him,” Tony said. “I want her. I will be loyal, faithful, and true to Trina.”
Angelo laughed. “If she wanted all that, she could buy herself a dog.”
Aika threw a couch pillow at Angelo. “Tony, keep ignoring your bro
ther.”
“A dog poops and pees outside,” Tony said. “I would use the bathroom inside. A dog only lives ten to twelve years. I should live until I am seventy-eight. A dog licks his balls. I do not lick my balls. A dog barks and growls. I would be quiet and whisper. I would keep Trina warm at night.”
Aika stood and rubbed Tony’s shoulders. “You are a sweet, sweet man, Tony, and any woman would be happy to have you.”
“Aika, really?” Angelo said. “If Trina threw him a ball, Tony would go and fetch it.”
“My mouth is not big enough for a ball and I am not a dog,” Tony said. “I want Trina. Help me get her.” Tony looked directly into his brother’s eyes. “Help me, Angelo. Please.”
12
I have never seen Tony this focused on anything but his piano and his scribbles, Angelo thought. He also said “please.” Tony never says “please.” I hate to be the bad guy, but I have to nix this latest obsession of his right now before he gets hurt.
“Tony, Trina might not be available for you to go on a date with anyway,” Angelo said. “If enough people vote for her, she’ll be on this show. You would have to become a ‘Second Chance Suitor’ to meet her.”
“What is a suitor?” Tony asked.
“A man in competition for a lady’s hand in marriage,” Angelo said.
“A suitor only wants her hand,” Tony said.
“And the rest of her, of course.” He held out his hand. “Give me the remote. I want to show you something.”
Tony handed Angelo the remote.
Angelo clicked back to the main page. “See these guys? These would be your competition for Trina’s hand. Look at these guys. Geez, I haven’t seen him in fifteen years.”
“Who are they?” Tony asked.
And yet another specific question. “Tony, you’d be going up against former star athletes, old-school rappers, one-hit wonders, models who have grown old in the tooth and abs, child stars who aren’t cute anymore, actors finally clean and out of rehab, comedians who were once funny but can’t shake their shtick, you know, men looking for a second chance at fifteen minutes of fame.”
Tony looked at the Second Chance Suitors. “They have tattoos and jewelry. I do not have tattoos and jewelry. They have fancy clothes. I do not have fancy clothes. They have big muscles.”