The Five-Day Engagement
Chapter One
"I don't know what to do," said Smithers, staring past Marge and fixing his gaze on the corn curtains abutting the Simpsons' kitchen window, clutching his cup of tea like a child clinging to a teddy bear. "It all happened so fast."
"Then maybe they won't last. You said they've only been seeing each other for a few weeks."
"I hope you're right. Ever since they started going out, I hardly have the chance to do anything with Monty. We used to go out to dinner, to the theater, to the art galleries. Now, it's always: 'Off you go, Smithers!' 'Go home to your can of soup, Smithers!' 'Don't you have some sweeping to do, Smithers?' It's like we aren't even friends anymore."
"Oh, Waylon, I'm so sorry. Sometimes, my Homie ignores my need for companionship, too, and I feel like I may as well be his servant. What I've had to do is tell him what I need from him, and he'll take me for a romantic evening out. Mr. Burns might not give you the romantic evening you want, but you can demand his respect as a human being and as a friend."
"Demand? Of Mr. Burns? I can't remember the last time I've 'demanded' anything from Mr. Burns, but I do remember it didn't end well."
"Just tell him that as much as you love your job, as his friend, you want to have... a boys' night out, since he's been spending all of his time with this..."
"Tiffany."
"Right," said Marge, sipping her tea. "Something you'll have to decide for yourself is if you'll even be comfortable working for him after he's married."
"Of course I want to keep working for him. I love being with him, even though I know he doesn't love me." He set his cup of tea down on the saucer. "My God, I'm pathetic."
"I know this is hard, but isn't it better to learn to accept that he won't fall in love with you than to keep clinging to an impossible hope?"
He sighed. "I know you're right, but...but..." He started to cry, putting his hands over his eyes, and Marge put a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I was so sure we were meant for each other. Maybe that sounds stupid to you, but we've had some really good times together. Just last month, we were watching Casablanca on his settee, and he leaned his head against my shoulder the whole time, and at the end, he looked up into my eyes, and we hugged each other. He sniffed back a tear and confessed he missed the warm, comforting touch of another person, and for one, stupid moment, I thought I could provide that comforting touch he craved.
"A few days later, he met Tiffany at the dog show with her German Short-haired Pointer, and I ended up driving two short-haired bitches home that night. I spent the next few weeks ferrying her and Mr. Burns around town for dates, and now he's asked her to marry her and she's said yes and now I'm wondering what the goddamn point of the last twenty years of my life was."
"Maybe you should find a boyfriend. You know, Julio just broke up with Grady again. He mentioned you."
"It's too soon for – what did he say about me?"
"He said he missed you and didn't see why you're so in love with Mr. Burns."
"Nobody sees why. You'd have to know Mr. Burns like I do." He sipped his tea. "What else did he say about me?"
"He said, well..." She leaned in and whispered into Smithers' ear, "that you were good in bed."
"Judging by the blush in your cheek, you still have that little crush on me, don't you?" Marge chuckled self-consciously. "I don't mind, as long as you keep your lips off mine." He sipped his tea again. "But I'm going to have to call it quits for tonight. I need a drink much stiffer than tea to drown my sorrows."
"Take care, Waylon," she said as they both stood from their chairs. Putting her hands on Smithers' elbows, she said, "Remember, you can talk to me anytime."
"Thanks, Marge. I'll remember that." He walked outside to the front lawn of the Simpson house and dialed in his cell phone. "Hi, Julio! ... It's good to hear you, too. It has been too long. Would you be interested in getting some drinks with me tonight? ... Great! I'll pick you up in about ten minutes."
Waylon and Julio stood in line outside The League of Extra-Horny Gentlemen. "So," said Julio, "What did you have in mind for tonight?"
"Well..." His eyes wandered to the "Extra-Horny" part of the sign.
Julio lowered his eyelids seductively as he squeezed Waylon's bicep. "I have a feeling we're on the same page."
The bouncers looked them up and down. "You're in," said one to Julio, while the other said, "But not you," holding his palm up to Waylon.
Julio said, "Either he gets in, or I leave." While the bouncers looked to each other in silent deliberation, Julio pinched Waylon's cheek. "Isn't adorkable in right now?" The bouncers nodded and waved them in.
As they approached the counter, Waylon said, "Wow, they've really revamped this place. I haven't been in here since –"
"Since you had a hot, young boyfriend."
Turning to the bartender, Waylon said, "A margarita and a scotch and water, please."
"You remember my favorite drink."
"Actually, scratch the scotch and water. I'll have a Sex on the Beach." The bartender nodded and fixed their drinks.
"So, what made you change your mind?"
"Scotch is what I drink when I'm depressed. Sex on the Beach is what I have when I want to have fun."
"A word to the wise: it's only fun until you get sand in unexpected places." The bartender handed them their drinks, and they clinked their glasses together. "To second chances," said Julio, and they took long sips of their drinks.
They sat together, drinking and talking, at first about light, superficial topics, then broaching the topic of their previous relationship. "I never should've left you," said Waylon, stroking Julio's cheek.
"It's not your fault, Waylon. You can't help but love Monty."
"God, I miss hearing you call me that. I love the way you say my name." He took another sip of his third Sex on the Beach. "And Monty's never going to love me. I realize that now. I was a fool for ever thinking he could love me." He finished his drink. "I've given up on him for good."
"Wow, you're serious about this. What was the last straw?"
"He's getting married."
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. I'm not."
"You can't be serious. You've loved the man for half of your life."
"Okay, maybe I am a little bit devastated, but I know you're not really sorry. You're glad he's driving me into your arms."
"Yes, I admit it."
"But you know, I'm sick of the dating scene. I want to settle down and devote myself to one man, not constantly juggling between the man I work for and the man I'm sleeping with. We had a good thing going, and I'm sorry I had to ruin it, because Julio," he said, laying his hands on Julio's, "when I think back to when we were together, those were some of the best days I've had."
"Waylon, I – I'm touched, really I am, and –"
"I love you."
"And you don't know how much I've wanted to hear those words from your lips. But you hurt me. How do I know you won't use me for passionate sex and emotional support just to go back to – him?"
"Because I'm willing to commit to you now. Julio, I'd gladly spend my life with you."
"Are you seriously proposing to me, drunk in a hook-up bar, without any ring?"
"I, uh, guess I am." Julio sipped his drink. "Well?" Julio steadily drank until he was looking straight at the bottom of his glass.
"Maybe it's the margaritas, but... let's do it!"
"I understand, it's a big – you mean it?"
"Like I make a mean margarita."
"When should we do it?"
"Let's get hitched tonight in Vegas."
"Isn't that kind of tacky?"
"Tackier than proposing in a hook-up bar with no ring?"
"Point taken. But you mean it? We're getting married? Tonight?"
"I mean it if you mean it."
"But I mean, tonight? That's crazy."
"You need a little craziness in your life."
"Okay. Yes. We're doing it. I'll book the flight; you book the hotel." They kissed, then started looking up flights and hotel deals on their phones.
Once in their tuxes at the Fly-By-Night Vegas Chapel, around eleven o'clock, Waylon called Marge on his cell phone. "Marge! Guess where I am and what's happening to me."
"Waylon, are you all right?" she said, sitting up in alarm in her bed and turning the light on, drawing Homer's attention.
"I'm better than all right. I'm getting married!"
"What?"
"I proposed to Julio a couple hours ago, and now we're in Vegas about to get married!"
"Don't you think that's unwise, getting married so fast?"
"I heard you married Homer at Shotgun Pete's, so I don't think you're in a position to look your nose down on me."
"No, I'm not looking down on you, not at all. Just, are you sure you're really ready to commit to spending your life with him?"
"I've been ready to commit for fifteen years, and he wants to spend his life with me."
"I mean, are you sure you aren't just on the rebound from Mr. Burns? Because Julio was really upset when you first broke up with him."
"Marge, I understand why you're skleptilal. But believe me, I've thought this through. I love Julio, and Mr. Burns is in the past."
"Are you drunk?"
"No, not at all. Okay, I am, but I'd do the same if I were sober."
"Please, reconsider. Sleep on it, and wait to get married in the morning."
The wedding march played on a poor-quality synthesizer in the background. "Sorry, gotta let you go, Marge. Next time you see me, I'll be a married man!" He hung up the phone and approached the altar.
In her bedroom, Marge turned to Homer and said, "I'm worried about Waylon."
"Yeah," said Homer, "Mr. Burns getting engaged has really made him nutty."
"And poor Julio must be desperate to accept an impromptu proposal like that."
"Yes. Well, goodnight, Marge."