Friendship, Love and Everything

By Joanne Pinatel

An almost true but ageless love story about two people who find each other, lose each other, then find each other again. A real life boy-meets-starry-eyed-girl.

 

Written (mostly) from true events this is a cautionary tale and a romantic love story in equal measure. Val, a working single mother and college student, is 28 years old and has never felt passion. She has never felt so hot for someone she gets wet just thinking about them. Val was sick of hearing how everyone else was having great sex. How sex with so-and-so was life-altering. How this friend or that friend had mind-blowing sex over the weekend. She was obviously missing something. She wanted to feel hot, aching passion too! Good old-fashioned knee-trembling burning love. With a man. Preferably life-altering.

 

Then she meets Denny and Val has to face her fears and learn how to love -- while having the best sex of her life! Spoiler alert! They make it and you get your happy-ever-after. We might have to accept tragic love stories from Shakespeare, but from everyone else, we want our happy ending! Friendship, Love and Everything doesn't disappoint.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanne Pinatel
• Release date: May 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798987181256

Book preview

Chapter 1

Val’s Journal, March 5, 1987

I’m picking Jack up at the airport. His band has been in Edmonton all month playing folk festivals. It’s weird, but I haven’t heard Jack play in ages. Have I not been invited? Or did I not want to go? I’m always invited. I think I didn’t want to go. Why not?

I’m alarmed to say that I’m not looking forward to having him home again. I’m dreading it, to be honest. He’s been gone for two months, and he was gone for three months before that. I am used to living without him. I feel free and independent when he’s gone. Something is missing. There is no spark. Lately, I find myself wondering what it would be like NOT to be Jack and Val anymore.

Montreal 1992

Am I hearing you correctly? Luc stopped in his tracks. You want to have great sex at least once before you die. Are you dying?

What? No! Val looked around. Her co-workers had all stopped what they were doing and were staring at her with varying levels of astonishment. You all brag about the great sex you’re having every freaking day. Ooo, it’s so hot and life-changing... he took me to another place...I was so wet... So, what about me? I want romance-novel sex too. Preferably in a bed. With a man. Hopefully life-changing and yes, before I die.

Luc and Val were two of the restaurant’s top servers. They worked at Semplice, a busy Italian bistro in a trendy area of Montreal.

Notre Dame de Grace (NDG) meant old neighborhoods, tree lined streets, worn brick duplexes, and cozy cafes and restaurants.

Still high on adrenalin, after a long, hellish shift, Luc sprang up to clear a few empty plates from the staff table then just as quickly sat back down again by swinging his leg over the back of his chair like a cowboy.

Semplice was the current ‘in’ place. The restaurant made its own fresh pasta and the best brick oven pizza in the city. Every dish that came out of that kitchen was a masterpiece. The servers were young, friendly, and fast. The ambiance was trendy yet traditional. The boss, Marco, had started the restaurant using his grandmother’s family recipes. He knew he had a winning combination. From Thursday to Sunday the line was out the door.

The Semplice gang was Val’s surrogate family, social life, and livelihood all rolled into one. Marco was more like a parent than a boss and serving tables was honest work.

If you were good at it, you could make the long hours on your feet well worth it. Val was good at it. She was fast and efficient. On busy nights, when she was seriously weeded, teetering on the edge of the abyss, her bright smile gave nothing away.

It’s not weird that you want great sex, it’s weird you are saying you want great sex because by saying you want great sex, you’re actually implying that you’ve never had great sex and that can’t possibly be what you mean. Can it? Luc stood up again. He couldn’t sit still. Is that...what you’re saying?

Luc was fond of Val and this new information didn’t fit with the fiery, sexy, funny woman he worked with four or five nights a week.

Everyone was decompressing and cashing out. Val loved the feeling of recovery after a really busy night. It was a moment to breathe before rushing home to pay the babysitter and fall into bed — only to be up again at the crack of dawn running, running, running to get everything done before her first class.

Yes, Luc. You’ve crystallized my thoughts exactly. That is exactly what I am saying. I’ve never had hot, sexy sex. If you guys weren’t talking about sex every chance you got, I would be none the wiser. BUT NO! Every one of you has bragged about how sexy your sex is at one point or another – and you have all gone into way too much detail, by the way. I didn’t need to know all the ins and outs of your sex lives. No pun intended. Now I have no choice but to find out what I’ve obviously been missing.

They were staring at her as if she had lost her mind. You know what? Forget it. I don’t even like sex. Forget I said anything. She looked up at five stricken faces. Everyone! Chill! Let’s just rewind. I take it all back.

Luc ran his hands through his gelled hair causing it to stand up all over his head like a crazy person. Are you insane? You’re saying you’ve never had good sex?

Carol, Val’s former roommate was having none of it. What about sex with Jack?

What...about...Jack? What? Carol narrowed her eyes while Val busily arranged her tips into tidy piles.

What. Was. Sex. Like. With. Jack? Carol said tapping the table with each word.

Can we talk about something else?

Too late now. Luc had gotten up again and was leaning on the back of his chair towering over Val like an interrogator waiting for her answer.

It was fine.

"You were together for five years and sex was just fine?" Luc was flabbergasted. Val’s admission was almost incomprehensible. He couldn’t go five days let alone five years without sex. It was a necessity. Like air.

Carol told Val once that sex with her new boyfriend, Drew, blew her mind.

What did that even mean? Val had no idea. She felt like a misfit who had wandered into an exclusive club. She didn’t know what it meant to have her mind blown. Sex was okay. She put up with it. She may even have had an orgasm once or twice. At least she thought she had.

Val didn’t want to say anything that might reflect badly on Jack. He was Charlie’s father and she considered him one of her best friends.

Anyone who knew Val, knew the Jack and Val story. Val had moved in with Jack four years before Charlie was born. Her pregnancy was an accident. When Charlie was 18 months old, Jack moved out, helping when he could. They were a weird, lopsided family.

Carol sealed her envelope and handed it off to Marco as he sped by scooping it up like a relay racer, never missing a step.

There was nothing wrong with Jack. Val started slowly. It was me. I just wasn’t...any good. The first time I tried giving Jack a blow job, what a disaster.

Suddenly the restaurant stopped.

No one moved.

It was early in our relationship. I had never had a penis in my mouth before ...

A pot clattered to the floor in the kitchen.

The constant clink of glasses and cutlery from the dish pit was suddenly still.

...but in an effort to spice up our sex life, I tried it.

The good-natured banter between the line cooks, Sason and Tuphik, as they closed the kitchen had ceased mid-sentence.

Marco stood frozen at the front cash looking like he didn’t want to hear this but was morbidly drawn to it like an accident on the side of the road. Val kept talking.

I made a rookie mistake, really. It could have happened to anyone. I underestimated my gag reflex. I went too deep, too fast...

As if they were all of one cosmic mind, every male in the place sucked in a sharp breath. ...Yep, spaghetti and meat balls. Val said almost gleefully.

Oomph! The room had been punched in the stomach. The image of spaghetti and meatballs regurgitated onto Jack’s penis seared itself into their brains.

Luc held his hand to his mouth. The line cooks crumpled into chairs like inflatable balloon people with the air turned off. They would never be able to look at Val the same way again.

A groan wafted eerily from the dish pit and Val continued, Jack was beyond horrified. I never tried it again. He never asked me to.

The restaurant was silent for a full minute as each poor soul tried to recover.

There’s just so much wrong with that story I don’t know where to begin. Luc finally broke the silence as the rest of them slowly began to re-inhabit their bodies. First of all, you shouldn’t need to spice up a new relationship. You should be all over each other. Second, it was one time. One disgusting time, but one. You can’t let the weird shit that happens in life define you. You have to shake it off. Otherwise, we’d all be so crushed by our failures we wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning.

Val leaned over and gave Luc a kiss on his clean-shaven chin.

What was that for?

Nothing. Val shrugged.

Luc eyed her suspiciously, but Carol needed answers. "I’m not quite sure how to respond to that really disturbing story except to say you must have recovered by now. That can’t be your defining moment. I know you as a strong, confident, single mother, fun co-worker, excellent student, and one of my best friends. The person I know has great sex all the time. You’re expecting us to believe that you’ve never felt so hot for someone that you get wet just thinking about them?"

No, Val said looking her straight in the eye. Never. I don’t get excited. I don’t get wet. There must be something wrong with me. Maybe my vagina is faulty. I’ve always suspected I was a dud. Jack lost interest because I’m like a dead fish. I don’t blame him one bit. I would cheat on me!

Hold on there, Calamity Jane. Luc was in a fighting mood. First, don’t assume that you were the whole problem. Last I counted there are at least two bodies in the bed.

Yes, but I’m not very...you know. Maybe if I had more skills...

Was Jack romantic? Luc fired off the question like a prosecuting attorney. Did he make you feel special and safe? Did he warm you up? It’s called foreplay, by the way.

He wasn’t inspired in that department or at least he wasn’t inspired by me. I wasn’t very inspired either. Let’s be fair.

She went out with one guy before Jack and she faked orgasms. She was eighteen and just wanted the ordeal to be over. He was only one year older with limited experience. She didn’t like it. Sex. She never felt turned on. She knew something was wrong — but then she met Jack and it didn’t matter anymore because Jack didn’t push. Sex was sleepy and infrequent.

Jack and Val were on-again, off-again and Val experimented with other men when they were off, but now that Luc mentioned it, not one seemed to put in the effort required to ‘warm her up’.

There was Robbie, her voice became distant, remembering. He was a singer in a local rock band. God, I mooned after him for weeks. He reminded me of a big goofy dog. He talked me into getting into bed on our first date.

Again, the room was silent. Waiting. He said he was going to rock my world.

Sason slumped further in his chair. Marco slid silently down the counter behind the cash and leaned limply against the pasta machine for support.

Within a few seconds, he was inside me...he pounded away, grunting and saying ‘oh yeah’ for a good ten minutes...it wasn’t fun...then suddenly, he threw himself onto the floor, flopped over onto his back and proceeded to jerk himself off.

No one moved. No one spoke. They were trapped by Val’s voice as she painted pictures they couldn’t unsee.

He said he masturbated so often during the day, sometimes three and four times, that he couldn’t come inside a woman anymore. Is that even a thing? He said he was so desensitized that my vagina didn’t do it for him. I would have felt humiliated if he wasn’t so blasé, grinning up at me from the faux fur area rug. It was tacky. Purple zebra stripes.

You’re making this up. Carol said.

No, I’m not. AND I couldn’t help thinking at the time, now that we’re on the subject of foreplay, that he hadn’t even tried to rock my world and he wasn’t in the least concerned about me making my way home in the middle of the night.

Another strangled groan came from the dish pit.

Val was greedy for their outrage. It was the first time she’d recounted any of these stories and the reactions of shock, disbelief, and even suspicion, were validating. She’d always known deep down that something was missing. Saying it out loud was like finally standing up in front of an AA meeting and owning your problem. Hi, my name is Val Mackenzie and I’m terrible in bed.

Then there was Matthew... she continued.

Another one? No more! Sason almost shouted but Val was on a roll.

I was a bartender and the manager of the Sticky Wicket. Do any of you remember that place? It was an English pub on Peel.

No one answered. Val continued.

I had men chasing after me every night. I wore short leather skirts and sexy tops but I didn’t want to date the customers. Matthew was a small guy. He wore too much cologne, had brown puppy-dog eyes, and was so enamored of me I thought he might be safe.

This will end badly. Sason said getting up on shaky legs and heading back to the kitchen mumbling to himself. ...can’t hear anymore...just wrong.

Val didn’t care anymore if her experiences were making the room uncomfortable. She felt strangely free.

It did end badly. It was awful. I felt nauseous when he touched me. His mouth got all slack and his eyes thick lidded when he sucked on various parts of my body... especially my... Evey one leaned forward a tiny bit and held their breath.

...well...I’ll leave that up to your imaginations... they leaned back again, each trying not to imagine Val’s naked body parts being sucked on.

It was like he was drugged or went into a stupor as soon as I got naked. I couldn’t help feeling he didn’t really need me...any female body would do. He had sweaty, hesitant hands. His touch was shaky and timid. He produced too much saliva and then slathered it all over me. It was gross and his penis had no girth.

Everyone was squirming now. Too much information! Val stopped and took a slow sip of her cooling cappuccino.

So...what happened? One of the dishwashers squeaked, eyes wide, bracing himself in the doorway of the dish pit. This had turned out to be one of the most exciting nights he’d had in months.

I told him we could only be friends. His soft puppy dog eyes turned into a cold, hawk-like stare. It was creepy. I was a little scared of him. Last I heard he was frequenting the Spotted Dick on De Maisonneuve.

The seconds ticked by. You could hear the quiet hum of the walk-in fridge and the faint swish of the occasional taxi along Monkland Avenue.

You are a terrible liar. You couldn’t lie yourself out of a paper bag, Luc finally said. So that means this horrible mess must be true. You just don’t LOOK like someone who fakes orgasms, chokes on penises or let’s creeps disrespect you. You’re hot! You’re a babe! Luc looked her up and down. "And I don’t