355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Tara Sivec » Futures and Frosting » Текст книги (страница 11)
Futures and Frosting
  • Текст добавлен: 26 сентября 2016, 18:10

Текст книги "Futures and Frosting"


Автор книги: Tara Sivec



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

18.  Benjamin’s Balls

As we walk up and down the aisles of Adult Mart, I keep a close eye on Claire.  She looks better after throwing up her dinner, but I'm still worried.  I’ve never seen her sick before, unless you counted hangovers, and it puts me on edge.  I hate that she's coming down with the flu and there is nothing I can do to make her feel better.

“This has burnt nut sac written all over it,” Drew yells from the end of the aisle, interrupting me from my thoughts as he holds up a candle that doubles as massage oil when it's melted.

I reach for Claire’s hand and give it a squeeze as we make our way down one aisle, glancing at things as we walk.  I watch her carefully out of the corner of my eye, looking for warning signs on her face in case I need to rush her out of the store to defile more shrubbery.

“I’m fine, stop staring at me,” she says without looking at me.

“Sorry, I’m just making sure you aren’t going to throw up on the carpet.  Out of all the fluids that are stained on this floor, I’m guessing vomit isn’t one of them.”

“Oh that’s disgusting,” she says with a laugh.

Seeing her smile puts me at ease a little bit.  If she can still laugh, she isn’t dying from some horrible, unnamed disease.

Claire suddenly stops and moves in front of me with a serious look on her face.

“You see?” she whispers conspiratorially.  “This is why I have never set foot in one of these places,” she states, looking over her shoulder and then back to me.  “Look at that creepy, old guy over there in front of the ‘Buy One, Get One Free’ bin.  He is about one ‘Shaving Ryan’s Privates’ away from whipping his dick out in the middle of the store and throwing his goo at us like in ‘Silence of the Lambs’,” she complains.

She gives one last nervous look over her shoulder at him and lets go of my hand to go down a different aisle, clearly needing to distance herself from the guy who now has both of his hands in his baggy pants pockets and is jerking them at an alarming speed.  The guy obviously hadn’t read the sign hanging above the movies that said, “Please do not jerk off in our store.  Thank you!”  There is even a smiley face on the sign.  It's oddly disturbing, yet comforting all at the same time.

I turn to follow Claire, stopping at a random display and grabbing the first bottle I see and read the back of it to see what it does.  I read a few words when the sound of Claire’s whispering brings my head up.  I see her talking animatedly to Jenny a few feet away, most likely sharing her views about the DVD section and its inhabitants.  I stand there for a few minutes just watching her when she suddenly throws her head back and laughs.  It's one of those deep, full belly laughs that is impossible to stifle and it gives me goose bumps hearing it.  It feels like someone punched me in the stomach and my heart starts pounding faster.

I love her so fucking much.

This isn’t a revelation, but all of a sudden in the middle of Adult Mart I feel like nothing else matters but the fact that I love Claire.  She is my dream come true, my life, and my everything.  Does it really matter if I plan the best proposal in the world and spend weeks trying to come up with just the right words?  She isn’t the type of girl who cares about that stuff and I know it.  I want everything to be outlandish because it’s what I think is expected, not because it’s what I think will be perfect for her.  Asking her to be my wife and to grow old with me – that’s what matters, not the amount of money I spend renting a jumbotron, or the meetings I have with the manager of a restaurant, or the stupid three-page speech I memorize.  Waking up every morning next to this woman and tucking my son into bed every night is all that I care about.  Claire and Gavin are my whole world, and I don’t want to wait one more second to ask her to make it official in the eyes of God and everyone we know.

Spur of the moment.  Isn’t that the way you were supposed to do these fucking things anyway?

I swallow the knot that forms in my throat, suddenly nervous that the moment is here.  The one I have been planning for and rehearsing – it's here and it's right fucking now.

I tear my gaze away from Claire for a moment and glance around me.  Porn, dildos of all shapes, sizes and colors, and a shelf full of anal lube.

Jesus, does that say cinnamon-flavored anal lube?  I don’t even want to think about a situation that requires flavored anal lube.  I must be insane that I am actually contemplating this right now.

I stand there with my hands sweating, heart pounding, and a bottle of Lickity Stiff Arousing Cream clutched to my chest.

Fuck it.

I take a deep breath, my decision made.  With determination, I walk over to where Claire is still chatting with Jenny.  She turns to face me just as I reach her and takes the bottle I'm holding out of my hand to read its contents.

Lickity Stiff Arousing Cream?  I’m pretty sure you don’t need this,” Claire says with a laugh.

She turns around to place it back on a shelf, and I take a deep breath for good measure, reach into my pocket, and wrap my fingers around the velvet box that I still carry around with me just in case.  With Claire’s back to me, I pull out the box and start to kneel.

“Holy shit!”

The exclamation interrupts my descent to the floor, and I pause with both of my knees slightly bent, looking like I'm getting ready to take off sprinting in a race.  Claire turns around just as a hand clamps around my bicep and dragged me backwards.

“Liz, what are you doing?” Claire asks.

“Just need to talk to Carter for a second.  Need a guy’s opinion about porn, no worries!”

I stumble and shove the ring box back in my pocket as I try to turn around and keep up with Liz.  Despite my protests, she continues to hold onto my arm and walk faster.

“Liz!  What the fuck?!  I was kind of in the middle of something,” I complain as we get further away from Claire who stares at us with confusion on her face.

“Oh I know what the fuck you were in the middle of, dumbass!” Liz whispers loudly.

She finally stops when we are on the opposite side of the store from Claire and turns to face me.

“You’re proposing to Claire?” she asks with her hands on her hips and a mixture of awe and anger on her face

“Well, I was trying to until I was rudely interrupted,” I tell her, putting my hands on my hips and staring her down.  She is small and feisty, but I have cocks on my side.  Hundreds of them I can fling at her and then flee in the other direction when she attacks.

“You’re proposing to Claire.”

This time it's a statement rather than a question.

“Um, I think we already covered this.  Let me guess, you think it’s too soon.  Or you’re afraid I’m going to hurt her.  Go ahead, give it to me.  Wait, shit!  Did she say something to you about not wanting to marry me?  Fuck!  She’s been acting weird since your wedding, and I know she’s talked a good game about not wanting to get married, but I figured it was just talk.  What girl doesn’t want to get married?  Oh fuck, Claire is the type of girl who doesn’t want to get married.  Oh my God she doesn’t want to marry me,” I ramble as I pace back and forth in front of a display of chocolate body paint.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, calm down, Nancy.  I swear the two of you are the stupidest people I have ever met.  You live together and you never talk.  How is that fucking possible?” Liz asks in irritation.

“What are you talking about?”

Liz sighs. “YOU.  ARE.  STUPID,” Liz repeats, enunciating each word and making up random hand gestures to go with each one so it looked like she was using sign language.  Except I’m pretty sure the sign for “stupid” isn’t a middle finger.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this because Claire is my best friend and this seriously violates the best friend code of honor between girls, but we have a situation on our hands.  I am willing to take a kick to the vagina for you when she finds out about this so you better clean out your ears and listen the fuck up!” she says with a poke to my chest with her finger.  “Claire has been freaking out lately that you don’t want to marry her because she has this idea in her head that you’re a typical guy and the idea of marriage makes you want to puke, which could explain the purging she did in the landscaping out front.  She doesn’t have a porn fetish. She just didn’t want you to know that ever since my wedding she’s done nothing but think about marrying you, and she’s scared to death it’s going scare you away.”

I stare at her with my mouth open, not sure which fact makes me more sad: Claire thinking I wouldn’t want to marry her or Claire not really being addicted to porn.  That is a problem I'm sure we can overcome together and without the tears or vomiting...unless that was the type of porn she was into, but I’m pretty sure we can get through that together as well.  Maybe.  But I guess that’s a non-issue now.

“Okay, then why the fuck did you stop me?  I was seconds away from easing all of her fears,” I complain.

“Um, take a minute and look around, Romeo.  Do you really want to propose to Claire in front of a display of cock rings?”

I glance around me and really take in my surroundings and think about what I'm doing.

“Years from now when she’s retelling this story to your grand kids, do you really want her to say, ‘Well kids, your grandfather popped the question right next to the anal beads and ball gags.'?” Liz says in a grandmotherly voice.

“I’m sorry, I don’t get what the problem is here,” Drew says as he suddenly appears next to Liz, licking a sucker shaped like a pair of tits.

“Go away, this is a secret,” Liz tells him.

“Nice try, twat waffle.  I heard the majority of what’s going on.  And I kind of want to take Carter here out back and rub my nuts on his head for not telling me he planned to propose to Claire in the happiest place on earth,” Drew states, giving me a dirty look.  Well, as dirty a look as he can with sugar boobs on a stick hanging out of his mouth.

“Isn’t Disneyland the happiest place on earth?” Liz asks.

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Drew tells her.

“Look, this was a last minute decision.  It’s not like I planned to drop down on one knee in the middle of this place.”

I look away from them to take another glimpse around me.

Why the fuck did I think this was a good idea?  Claire would have killed me, murdered me where I stood.  My obituary would read, “He died under a pile of pink and purple rubber cocks and double A batteries.”

“I was caught up in the moment and just reacted,” I tell them sheepishly.

Drew pats me on the back. “Awww, you got sentimental in a porn shop.  Will you marry me instead?” he asked with a laugh.

I shut him up with a punch to his chest.

“Wait, if you didn’t plan this, why are you carrying a ring around in your pocket?” Liz asks suspiciously.

“Uh, I, um, kind of carry it everywhere with me,” I tell her, feeling beyond uncomfortable that I'm admitting this out loud.  “I’ve had a few proposal plans go belly up the last few weeks.  I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with the perfect plan and every time, something has gone wrong.  I like to keep the ring in my pocket so I can reach in and touch the box.  It gives me reassurance to keep trying.”

Liz’s bottom lip quivers and Drew stares at me blankly.

“Dude, you’ve been fingering that box in your pocket all this time?  I thought you had crabs or something.  I was going to let you borrow my cream,” Drew says with a sad shake of his head.  “That’s pathetic.  You have officially lost your man card.  If you take it all back right now and tell me there’s a hole in your pocket and you were just diddling yourself like the old guy over in aisle twelve, I’ll forgive you.”

Liz pinches the skin of his underarm, and Drew lets out a howl, rubbing the spot that is now turning red.

“Shut up, ass fuck.  That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Liz says with a sniffle.  “Let me see the ring.”

I look behind me and find Claire perusing DVD’s now that the guy playing pocket pool is gone.  I slide the ring out of my pocket and quickly opened it for Liz to see.

“Holy shit, you went to Jared’s,” she whispers in awe.

“YES!  Ha ha, vindication!” I shout with a fist pump.

Liz and Drew shush me and we all turn around to see if Claire has heard the commotion.  I quickly snap the ring box closed and shove it back in my pocket to see that she is oblivious to the noise and is still neck deep in the clearance porn bin.

That is so hot.

Even if my grandmother walked in right now, I don’t think I’d be able to get rid of my boner.

Sorry, Nana, my girlfriend is in a sex shop trying to pick out the perfect porno for us to watch later.  Carter Junior isn’t going anywhere for a while.  Please pick girl-on-girl, please pick girl-on-girl.

“Oh for God’s sakes, close your mouth, Carter, or you’ll catch flies,” Liz scolds, bringing my attention back around.  “And Drew, quit staring at Jenny’s ass.  You’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

“Actually, we’ve already done it three times today.  I’m kind of spent,” Drew replies with another lick to the sucker.

“First of all, that’s disgusting and I would have slept a whole lot better tonight if you hadn’t shared that, and second, when the fuck did you even find time to have sex three times?  You were at my shop all day helping me unload inventory.  You didn’t even see Jenny until we got to the restaurant,” Liz questions.

First of all,” Drew replies, mocking Liz.  “You said ‘load’ and we need to acknowledge that.  Heh, heh, load!  And second, it was more like one point two times if you want to get technical.  I had sex with the Jenny mold twice in the bathroom of your store, and I had sex with Jenny in the bathroom of the restaurant.”

And there goes my boner.

“There are so many things wrong with that statement I think my brain just exploded.  You’re bleaching my bathroom tomorrow, asshat,” Liz says angrily.

“Hey, what are you guys talking about?” Claire asks, coming up to the group.

“We’re talking about how many times I spooged in Jenny today,” Drew states proudly.

“Sorry I asked,” Claire replies, turning right back around and walking away.

“Never, ever use that word again.  Ever,” Liz tells Drew once Claire is out of earshot.  “Okay, Carter, I get where you were going tonight with the whole ‘spur of the moment’ thing and it’s a nice touch.  But you need a plan.”

“Hey, Christopher proposed to Adriana without any kind of plan. He just walked into her mother’s house and handed her the ring.  Maybe he had the right idea,” I told her indignantly.

“Who the hell are Christopher and Adriana?” she asks.

“Um, duh!  From Sopranos,” Drew replies.

“Come to think of it, though, it didn’t really end all that well.  He fucked everything in a skirt, snorted coke, shot up heroin, and had her killed.  Plus, the reason he proposed was because he just beat the shit out of her,” I reason.

“Gee, it’s amazing you were able to come to the conclusion that basing your marriage proposal off of an HBO mob show isn’t the best idea,” Liz says with a roll of her eyes.

“Hey, as long as Claire doesn’t go to the FBI and rat us out it could totally work,” Drew states.  “That’s common sense right there.  Bitches are snitches,” Drew says, throwing down gang signs to emphasize his point.

“It’s obvious I’m going to have to do this for you.  Give me a few weeks and I’ll have your problem solved,” Liz assures me.

I'm not so sure having someone else plan my proposal to Claire is a good idea, but Liz is her best friend.  Who better to help me out with this?  Plus, it will alleviate some of the pressure I feel.

The three of us make our way back to the other side of the store where Claire and Jim are standing, staring slack jawed at Jenny.

“What should I do?  He tells me to test them out, so I did.  How was I supposed to know how far in to stick them?” she whines as we got to the group.

“What happened?  What’s going on?” I ask to no one in particular.

I notice Claire is looking a little green again, and I put my arm around her waist and pulled her in to my side.

“I bought some of those Benjamin Wa Balls, and I know you’re supposed to try stuff out before you leave the store to make sure it works.  Now I can’t get them out,” she complains.

It's not until that moment I notice she is standing with her legs slightly spread like she was getting ready to take a dump on the floor.

“Did she just say Benjamin Wa Balls?” I whisper to Jim standing next to me.

“Seriously?  That’s what you’re concerned with?  She stuck a product up her vagina before she left the store.  And was planning on putting it back if she didn’t like it,” Jim whispers back in a horrified voice.  “I should never have touched anything in here.”

Jenny rocks back and forth from one foot to the other and shakes her hips a little in an effort to shake them loose I'm guessing.

“This Benjamin Wa guy should have come up with a better removal plan,” Jenny states.

“Jesus, will you stop calling them that?  They're BEN WA BALLS,” Liz shouts.  “And you’re not supposed to test the products out IN the store.  That’s only for toys that require batteries and the clerk will put some batteries in to make sure the thing actually runs before you leave with it.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know any of this?  And I thought that was just a nickname for them and they shortened it to fit on the packaging.  I was using the formal name,” Jenny tells her as she continues to move her hips around in a giant circle like she's trying to hula hoop in slow motion.

We all just stand around staring at her while she does her weird mating ritual to get Benjamin’s balls loose.  It's like a train wreck we can’t turn away from.

“I am never letting anyone use the bathroom in my shop.  Ever,” Liz says under her breath.

“Ooooh, I think I got one loose!” Jenny exclaims.

“I totally love you right now!” Drew tells her.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Claire states, throwing her hand over her mouth and running for the exit.

19.  Oops, I Did it Again!

After a week of being sick off and on, Carter forces me to go to the doctor.  Other than throwing up a few times, I feel fine.  I know he's making a big fuss over nothing.  But regardless, I haven’t been to my doctor for anything other than my yearly pap test since Gavin was born.  He's a general practitioner so he is Gavin’s doctor as well.  With all the time I've spent in that office with my son and his check-ups, colds, shots, fevers, diaper rashes, and everything else under the sun, there is no need for me to go in there if it isn’t absolutely necessary.  I’m the type of person who doesn’t go to the doctor unless I’m bleeding from the eyes or monkeys are flying out of my ass.  I figure my heath and well being will be perfectly fine through osmosis just by walking into that place every couple of months with my son.

When I call my doctor and tell him my boyfriend is being mean and making me get a physical, his exact words are, “Claire, you know there’s more to you than your vagina.  I’ve scheduled you for tomorrow.”

Whatever.  What if my vagina is the best part?  What do you have to say about that, Doctor Dick?

Actually, I really do love our doctor.  I have never seen him wearing anything other than jeans and a t-shirt.  He’s very down-to-earth and Gavin loves him.  Plus, if I’m going to let a guy stick his hands up my snatch once a year, he better make me feel comfortable if he isn’t buying me dinner first.

I'm currently sitting on the exam table in a lovely ensemble of a paper shirt that opens in the front and a paper blanket the size of a newspaper that is supposed to fit around my ass.  The room is a balmy fifty-two degrees, and I have been waiting forty-five minutes so far.  Needless to say, I'm in a super mood by the time Dr. Williams finally shows up.

“Claire, how are you doing today?” he asks as he walks into the room with a nurse following close behind.

“Oh, I’m just super.  Did you do something new with these gowns?  They seem to have much more coverage,” I say sarcastically.

“Ah, Claire, you always say the nicest things,” he laughs as he takes a seat on his little stool with wheels and looks over my chart.

The nurse comes up next to me and takes my blood pressure and checks my pulse, reporting the numbers to Dr. Williams so he can notate them.

“Well, your BP is good and you don’t have a fever.  When was your last menstrual cycle?”

I count backward through the weeks in my head and then stop and count again.

“Well, it was…I remember it was a Tuesday because that’s the day my supplies are delivered, and I was in the middle of signing for the white chocolate when I felt cramps,” I ramble, trying not to panic.

One, two, three, four, carry the seven, multiply by eight…FUCK!

I glance over at the calendar hanging on the wall.  This month shows a black and white cat with wide eyes and both of its paws covering its mouth as if to say 'Oops!'.

Fuck you, you stupid cat!  I can’t count with you staring at me like that.  And if cats really could say “Oops” they’d do it when they shit on the SIDE of the litter box instead of in it.

I stare at the squares and the numbers on the calendar until they all start to blur together, either from eye strain or tears, I'm not sure which.

“First, how about we just have you scoot down to the end of the table and we’ll check you out.  You’re due for your yearly exam next month anyway so we might as well get that taken care of,” Dr. Williams says as he slides his chair closer to me while the nurse pulls out the extension at the end of the table and adjusts the stirrups for my feet.

I lie back and put my legs up in the air while the nurse slides a table over with the pap test kit already set up on top.

Right now, I wouldn’t mind a little Drew humor to take my mind off of things.  Something to the effect of, “How’s that cunt scrape coming along?”

I squeeze my eyes shut while the doctor goes to work, sticking his hands where only one man has gone before.

“So, have you been watching the new Bachelorette?  That chick is a train wreck!” Dr. Williams says with a laugh.

“Um…”

“Did you see when she got all trailer park on that one guy?  Wagging her finger and shaking her head?  You can take the girl out of the trailer park…” Dr. Williams trails off with another laugh as I hear the metal clink of the speculum.

“My daughter likes to watch that stupid show just to see the pretty dresses she’s going to wear,” he tells me as he continues working between my legs.

No really, it’s perfectly fine to talk about reality television and YOUR KID while your fingers are all up in my business.  How does this work when he’s at home?  Is it the exact opposite when he’s sitting around the dinner table?  “So did I tell you about this woman today?  Her cooch hadn’t been shaved in days. What a trainwreck!  Can you pass the potatoes?  I only treat her because she’s got a pretty uterus.  How did you do on your spelling test, Cindy Lou?

Dr. Williams finishes digging to China, slides back and slips off his rubber gloves while he stands.

The nurse takes my arm and helps me sit up.  I try to situate the paper shirt and skirt thing to cover myself back up but it seems like the fucking thing shrunk.  I give up and just keep my legs as tightly together as I can.  It doesn’t seem appropriate to flash the goods to the doctor now that the exam was over.  It would be like walking up to your dentist in the grocery store and showing him your teeth.  There is a time and a place for everything.

“So?  Is everything okay?  What’s next?” I ask, hoping since he hasn’t said much during the exam, aside from television gossip, that all is good and I'm worrying for nothing.

“Well, we’ll order up some blood work, and I’ll see you back here in four weeks,” he said with a smile as he wrote something else on my chart.  “Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

~

Did you know The Dollar Store sells pregnancy tests?  It’s true.  And even though all these stupid dollar stores should change their names to “The Dollar Store – Everything Isn’t Really a Dollar, We Just Like to Fuck With You”, pregnancy tests are in fact one of the few things there that actually only cost one dollar.  Which begs me to ask the question why the hell did I get a dirty look from the cashier when I asked for all thirty-seven tests?  Like that’s never happened before?  They are pregnancy tests for ONE DOLLAR, people.  Gavin gets one dollar for doing chores around the house every once in a while.  Even HE can afford to buy a pregnancy test.  Why a four-and-a-half-year-old would need to buy a pregnancy test is beyond me, but these are the facts.

Arguing with the cashier and telling her I hope she slams her ginormous tits into the drawer of the cash register probably isn’t my finest moment, but it keeps my mind off of the fact that I might be pregnant.

Yes, I said might.  I have just finished peeing on the twenty-third test and Dr. Williams had told me I was pregnant when he fondled my uterus, but he could have been wrong.  Doctors get things wrong all the time.  They remove a kidney when they mean to remove a gallbladder, and they forget to take clamps and shit out of someone before they sew them up.  He could definitely be wrong about my uterus.  How many uteri does he stroke on a daily basis?  Maybe he's just off his game.  Maybe he hadn't even been touching my uterus but had his hand around my spleen.  But that would probably mean he was up to his elbows in my vagina.  It had been uncomfortable, but not elbows-deep uncomfortable.

I stand at the sink in the bathroom and stare at the pregnancy test in my hand, waiting for the five minutes to be up so I can gouge out my eyes when I see another positive result.  When the timer on my cell phone beeps with the new tone (“SWEET MOTHER FUCKING JESUS IT’S TIME!”) I downloaded just for this purpose, I glance down and try not to cry.

An hour later, Carter and Gavin come home from the store and find me curled up in the fetal position on the floor of the bathroom, surrounded by used pregnancy tests, instructions, and ripped open boxes.

“Mommy, where did you get all these magic wands?!” Gavin asks excitedly as he runs into the bathroom.

He picks up one of the tests and pretends like he's Harry Potter, aiming the test at random objects around the small bathroom yelling, “I curse you with my magic wand, punk toilet paper!”

I don’t even lift my head from the cold tiles; they feel too good on my tear-stained cheeks to move.  I watch him with my eyes and wonder briefly if I'm a bad mother for letting him play with something that I peed on.  That just starts another crying jag when I realize I will be a bad mother to two kids now.  I have a vision of the future where both of my children are sitting in a tub of pee while I'm comatose on the floor.

Carter walks to the doorway and takes one look at me and the litter on the floor and jumps into action.

“Hey, Gavin, how about you put down that wand and go get the bubbles we just bought.  I’ll even let you blow them in your room.”

“Sweet!  This wand smells funny anyway, and it’s making my hand wet,” Gavin states as he drops it on the floor and runs from the room.

“You should probably tell him to wash his hands,” I mumble from the floor.

“Eh, he’s going to be playing with bubbles, which are like soap, so it will all even out,” Carter replies as he steps into the room and sits down on the floor next to me.

I sit up, pushing tests and boxes out of my way so I can cross my legs and sit Indian style across from him with our knees touching.

“So, how was your day?” Carter asks gently as he reaches over and brushes my hair out of my eyes.

I sniffle and look around at the mess.

“Oh you know, the usual.  I worked, ran some errands, some guy put his hands up my chimichanga, complimented my uterus, and I got into a fight with a clerk at The Dollar Store.”

“Was it because practically nothing in that store is a dollar?” he asks.

“Oh my God, right?  What the fuck is up with that?  I don’t go into a store called The Dollar Store to buy a five dollar toy.  Someone needs to school these people on proper advertising,” I complain.

A few seconds of silence lapse, and I knew Carter was waiting for me to mention the huge “I'm pregnant” elephant in the room.  Fuck that elephant!  He can just sit there in the corner eating peanuts and shitting on the tile while giving me looks of disgust.

You’re the one shitting on the floor, elephant, don’t give me that look.

Carter spreads his legs out on either side of me, reaches over and grabs onto both of my ankles, unwinds my legs, and pulls me across the floor to him.  He re-hooks my ankles together behind his back and puts his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

“Say it,” he whispers.  “I missed out on this the first time.  I want to hear you say it.”

My throat is so tight I'm positive I won't even be able to take another breath, and he wants me to talk?

“Please?” he pleads softly.

He smiles at me and I can see his eyes start to fill with tears.  I want to tell him so many things, but I'm too overcome with emotion and frankly, a little bit of puke.  Two words are about all I can muster.

“I’m pregnant,” I whisper back with a sniffle.

“You’re pregnant?” he asks with a huge smile.

Um, duh?  What the fuck do you THINK all this is about?  Oh my God, what is wrong with me?  I’m sorry!  I love you!

“Are you not happy about being pregnant?” he asks, showing the first sign of worry since he stepped into the room.

“I figured YOU wouldn’t be happy.  You’re totally screwed now.  If you decide you don’t like me, I’ve got you for eighteen years.  I’m your baby mama times two.  That’s triflin’, yo.”

Carter laughs and wrapped his arms around my waist so he could pull me up against him.

“Stop trying to quote Kanye. You’re not a golddigger, and there’s no question whose kids they are,” he tells me as he cups my cheek with one hand and rubs it softly with his thumb.

“That’s what you think.  Sperm from the floor of the sex toy shop might have jumped off of the carpet and up into my vagina.  No telling who this one belongs to.”


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю