Go Ask Ali by Ali Wentworth

Author:Ali Wentworth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-04-24T04:00:00+00:00

Here’s another: you’re in your jersey stretch pants and one of your husband’s button-downs sanitizing the house with organic melon-scented spray, when the baby wakes from its nap and starts crying. You rush in to hold that little dumpling that personifies every cell of love you possess . . . and the baby keeps crying. And crying. Sofia comes in with her blinding-white teeth, smelling like St. Bart’s, and caresses the baby’s cheek. The baby stops crying and starts cooing. Sofia sings Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” and the baby smiles. And you secretly hope Sofia won’t attempt to breastfeed while you’re at CVS buying stool softeners and People magazine.

You, your husband, the baby, and Sofia are all parading around the park. You’re a little sweaty and your yoga pants, although soft, can’t muffle the chafing sound your thighs make as you walk. You stop at the water fountain. Next to you are two skeletal women in workout gear. They clock Sofia pushing the stroller alongside your dashing husband.

“What a gorgeous family,” one says.

“She looks amazing,” says the other.

“I can see why he fell in love with her!”

You race back to the group and grab your husband’s hand tightly, seriously entertaining the idea of pulling down your pants and peeing in a circle around his feet.

You have become an insecure mess. And nothing turns a spouse off more than a clingy, accusatory female who has traded in self-maintenance for Carvel Cookie Puss ice cream cakes. It’s like you’re pushing him into Sofia’s ample bosom. Daddy and baby are drawn to Sofia. And the final straw: Your mangy mutt with one eye you rescued from a kill shelter who is terrified of everyone? Will now only eat if Sofia lies down next to him on the floor. In a sexy pose. You have become a ghost in your own home.

It’s Sofia’s day off, and your husband has taken the child to Baby Einstein class. You’ve decided, inspired by an old issue of O, The Oprah Magazine, to take your life in your hands. You are going to be your best you! You peruse the computer for a nearby Pilates class. Or a pottery class. Whatever works with your schedule. And suddenly you spot an untitled file. The other files have names—Taxes, Vacation, fantasy football, Résumé, Birth Video—but this one is blank. Now, if at this point you log off and go for a ten-mile run, you are not a human being. But if you’re like me, you click on the file icon. Let curiosity kill the cat. The cat would probably only love Sofia anyway.

Time stops. As does your pulse for a moment. A series of nude photos. Not Man Ray, avant-garde-type nudes. Porn nude. Amateur cell-phone snapshots. Ugh, you exhale with the thought, boys will be boys. It’s an accepted but repulsive fact that the pornography industry makes about fourteen billion dollars a year, and your husband is a contributor. And didn’t one of your friends tell you that porn keeps men from cheating? Silver lining? But then something catches your eye.

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