Point, Click, Love by Molly Shapiro

suddenly felt foolish for ever doubting him. “No, I didn’t wreck the car. I just wanted to do something special for you.”
    “You’re the best, Maxine,” he said, squeezing her tight and kissing her on the top of her head. “Come on, let’s eat!”
    Maxine was actually a little nervous as they sat down to dinner, wondering if they could hold a real conversation without resorting to the topic of their children. But after a glass of wine and a few bites of escargot, she and Jake were eager to catch up on all that was going on in their lives. Jake told her about an article he was writing for a medical journal about ulcerative colitis. Maxine told Jake about her show in Los Angeles that was opening next month. They talked about the upcoming midterm election, about a documentary Jake had seen on capital punishment, about their need to decrease the family’s carbon footprint. They both lamented the fact that they hadn’t taken a trip abroad in a long time and threw out ideas for places they wanted to go, like Egypt, Peru, and New Zealand. Maxine marveled at how energized she felt, how a single, intimate meal could do so much to reinvigorate her marriage. Best of all, she could tell that Jake felt the same way. He, too, had a sparkle in his eye and an excitement in his voice that she hadn’t seen or heard in a long time.
    Maxine brought out a special bottle of cognac and led Jake to the couch for a drink. At first they sat a good three feet apart, still talking about their grand plans for the future. Then Maxine moved in close. She took Jake’s drink out of his hand and set both glasses down on the coffee table. She turned back to him and leaned in for a kiss. It was a nice, long, languorous kiss, tender and gentle, not urgent and passionate. Maxine pulled away and said, “I love you.”
    “I love you too,” said Jake.
    Still looking in Jake’s eyes, Maxine reached over and undid his pants. She put her hand inside and leaned in for another kiss. As she massaged Jake through his underwear, Maxine thought back to the way this process used to work in the past. As best as she could remember, after two long kisses and some firm massaging, Jake was usually ready to go. But now nothing was happening. She kept working away, but after a few minutes she started to feel foolish. It was like trying to start a car with a dead battery, repeatedly twisting the key but hearing only the defeated wheezing and sputtering of an engine that wouldn’t turn over.
    All the while, Jake sat calm and placid, content to allow Maxine to continue for as long as she wanted. But then, perhaps sensing her frustration, he said, “I think I’m tired, honey. Maybe we should just go to bed.”
    “Just go to bed?” asked Maxine, backing away and looking at him incredulously. “We always just go to bed. This is not normal, Jake.”
    “Maxine—”
    “No, Jake! We have to deal with this. We don’t have sex. Not normal.”
    “Maxine. We’re tired. We’re busy. We have kids. It’s very normal.”
    “Not this long. People find a way,” said Maxine. “Look! Right now. We can do it right now, and we’re not!”
    “I had a long, hard day and I’m tired,” said Jake. “Then we had a big meal, a bottle of wine, cognac.”
    “So? Some people get turned on by good food and wine. You used to!”
    “It’s not that I don’t want to, Maxine. Sometimes … it just doesn’t work. I can’t get it up.”
    “Really? And what about Deirdre? Can you get it up for her?” The words came out in a rush, as if they had been waiting to come out for weeks.
    “What are you talking about?”
    “You know what I’m talking about,” said Maxine, even though she wasn’t at all sure herself.
    “No, Maxine, I don’t.”
    “I’m saying that I think you and Deirdre are having an affair.”
    “Are you crazy?” said Jake, looking at Maxine in complete disbelief.
    “I saw your text messages,” she blurted.
    “You read my text messages?”
    “No, I