Текст книги "Seduction and Snacks"

Автор книги: Tara Sivec

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

9. Claire’s Coochie Kills

Oh, Jesus Christ. Oh, fuck. Can a person die from humiliation? Shitfuckdamn.

"I think I'm having a heart attack. Or maybe a stroke. Which is the one that makes your left arm numb?"

I've lost all brain function. This is it. I'm dying. Tell my folks I love them.

"A stroke," Liz said in a deadpan voice as she followed me into the kitchen.

"Shit. I'm having a stroke. Feel my pulse. Does it feel weird to you?" I asked, thrusting my arm out to her.

Liz smacked my hand away. "For fuck's sake, Claire, get a grip."

"Carter. His name is Carter. And he has no idea who I am," I whined.

Fuck, I hate whiney girls. I'm turning into an insecure, whiny girl. I'm going to have to kick my own ass. Liz bent down in front of the oven and took a peek at the lasagna cooking inside. She stood back up and crossed her arms in front of her chest, leaning her hip against the front of the oven.

"You think you have it bad? That fucktard Drew thinks he slept with me. I can see it in his eyes. He's trying to remember if he knows what I look like naked. Like I would ever let my lady bits near someone who wears an "I pooped today" shirt. He doesn't even remember hitting on me that night or how close he was to having cock and balls permanently drawn on his face. I wonder if he remembers the hex I put on his dumb stick? He really believed I was a witch that night. What an idiot."

"Really Liz? You're comparing the fact that a guy doesn't remember telling you he'd make out with you because you had nice tits to my sperm-donor'ing one-night-stand sitting twenty feet away and not know who the fuck I am? Really? Is that what you're doing right now because I just want to make sure I understand this correctly and didn't accidentally hit a bong full of bad crack on the way over that I don't know about," I ranted.

Liz rolled her eyes at me. "Jesus, Cranky VonHyperAss, simmer down."

I put my hands on my hips and gave her my best "I'm gonna fuck you up look".

"Okay, so this isn't the most ideal situation for meeting back up with your baby daddy, I'll give you that. But it's done. He's here and there's nothing we can do about it now. After all these years of wondering, you finally know who he is so you can tell him about Gavin. So pull up your big-girl thongs and get your ass out there."

We stared at each other blankly for a moment.

"I know what you were going for with that but it didn't work so well," I told her.

"Yeah, I realized that as soon as I said it. Next time I'll just stick with big-girl panties."

I started pacing back and forth across the kitchen.

"What are the fucking odds, Liz? First, he shows up in the bar out of the clear blue and now he's here. In your house. And he's talking to me like I'm some new chick he just met that he wants to get to know."

"Well, technically, you are some new chick he just met," she said with a shrug, like it was no big deal. "I know we wondered last night if he just didn't recognize you because he was drunker than Mel Gibson when he called his wife a pig in heat, but I think it's safe to say, he really doesn't remember who you are. It’s time to face facts, Claire. Your vagina just isn’t that memorable."

“Fuck you,” I mumbled.

“Not tonight dear, I’ve got a headache.”

It wasn't her fault she could be so nonchalant about this whole thing. I never really told her just how much I actually thought about him over the years. She had no idea how much that man sitting out in her living room had occupied my thoughts and dreams. In all the scenarios I made up in my head about someday finding him, they always began the same way. He remembered me and everything about that night immediately and apologized for never trying to find me. We would kiss in the rain, jump hand-in-hand together into a pool and ride horses together along the beach.

Or maybe I've seen one too many tampon commercials.

Seeing him again, knowing that he had no clue about the night we spent together, sucked big time. Especially since I was raising a reminder of that night and had to think about it every time I looked at my son.

"How am I supposed to even begin telling him about Gavin when he has no idea who I am? He is never going to believe me. He’s going to think I’m some nut job who’s looking for child support,” I stopped my pacing and moved to stand next to Liz by the oven.

"Not necessarily. Jim didn’t realize who Drew was until just before you got here when I dragged him into the kitchen, but he knew immediately who Carter was. Said he talked all about you this afternoon when they were at the bar. He knew right away when the poor guy mentioned something about you smelling like chocolate."

I stopped my manic pacing and stared at her. My heart started beating furiously again.

"What?!"

"I guess he told Jim about a girl, and I quote," she paused and brought her hands up to make air quotes. "That he met at a frat party and how he's thought about her for five years. Jim didn't get a chance to elaborate on what all was said because you chose that moment to walk into the house telling everyone about your neglected vagina and two-pump-chump Max."

"Fucking hell," I whispered.

"That's why Jim invited them over. I didn't have a chance to tell him that we saw Carter last night at the bar so he had no idea until our kitchen pow-wow.”

He DID remember me! Well, not me-me, but the 'me' from that night. The 'me' he met at the party. The ‘me’ whose virginity he took.

I need to stop saying 'me'.

"A little advanced notice would have been nice. You know there's this nifty little gadget called a cell phone right?" I complained.

"Oh, shut the fuck up. I was just as surprised as you were. They got here right before you did and Jim had all of thirty seconds to blurt out what was going on while we hung up their coats," she argued as she pulled plates down out of the cupboard.

"There is no way you were even remotely as surprised as me. If I woke up tomorrow with my tits sewn to the curtains, I wouldn't be this much in shock," I replied petulantly.

"Hey, I tried to shut you up. Several times. It's not my fault everyone now knows you have an irritable vagina. Heh, irritable vagina!" she laughed at her own joke. “Maybe it’s like irritable bowel and you can get some medication for it.”

Jim chose that moment to stick his head in the kitchen.

"If you two yentas are finished discussing Claire’s rabid who-ha, me and the boys would like to eat sometime this century."

"You and 'the boys?' You just met them today. Does the Ya Ya Brotherhood already have a secret handshake and a password?" Liz joked.

Jim made a production of grabbing his crotch. "Secret handshake – check. And the password is ‘Claire’s Coochie Kills’."

I threw an oven-mitt at him, hitting him square in the face. Just then the buzzer to the oven went off and the doorbell rang.

"That's probably Jenny," Liz said as she opened the oven door and pulled out the pan of lasagna. Being the good friend that I am, I had the foresight to send her a text with the news about Jenny joining us for dinner.

"Perfect timing. We'll all sit down and eat, she will inevitably say a bunch of stupid shit and everyone will forget about your pikachu. That should give you enough time to figure out a way to tell Carter his boys can swim."

***

Fifteen minutes later we were all seated around the dining room table, filling up our plates. Thankfully, my earlier embarrassment was pushed to the side while I watched Drew fall all over Jenny. Unfortunately, I couldn't ignore the Carter situation since he was sitting right across from me and I couldn't stop staring at him.

Fuck he's hot. I mean, really, really hot. He filled out a lot in five years. I bet he works out. He’s probably a runner. He’s got that lean look to him. I wonder who cuts his hair? It looks like he pays a small fortune to make it look like he doesn’t care what it looks like. Totally works for him.

Shit! Focus. Who cares what kind of hair products he uses? How are you going to tell this man he’s a father?

Hey Carter, how about this crazy weather we've been having? Speaking of crazy, your spunk has a crazy backstroke.

The hum of conversation around the table shook me from my thoughts.

“So, I was in the left-hand lane and some idiot tried to come over to where I was. I had to slam on my breaks so I didn't hit the medium."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and waited for Jenny to correct her mistake. Unless she really meant that she almost ran her car into someone who could communicate with the dead.

"Um, Jenny, do you mean median?" Jim asked when the silence around the table lasted for far too long.

She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth and looked at him funny. "Isn't that cement thingy in the middle of the highway called a medium?"

Carter tried to cover up a laugh by coughing, and I saw Drew punch him in the side.

"It's alright, Jenny. You can call it whatever you want to," Drew said, patting her hand in reassurance.

"Oh, Claire, I forgot to tell you. The purchase I made tonight worked awesome!"

I should never have taken a drink of my water at that moment. As soon as the words left Jenny’s mouth, I took a deep breath in shock and the water went down the wrong pipe. I started hacking and coughing, tears running down my face as Liz put her fork down and started smacking me on the back.

"What did you buy?" Drew asked as over a mouthful of noodles and sauce, completely ignoring the fact that I was dying across the table from him.

Carter at least gave me a concerned look and did that half-sitting, half-standing thing like he was getting ready to vault over the table to make sure I was okay. His concern for me was hot.

Hey Carter, speaking of hot – your hot beef injection had a play date with my eggs.

"The best vibrator I've ever owned," Jenny announced proudly, answering Drew’s question.

It was his turn to choke. Some of the lasagna flew out of his mouth as he pounded his fist against his chest and Carter reached over to slap his palm against his back.

It was starting to look like a Heimlich convention in here.

"Seriously, Liz, you have some great products for sale. I can't wait to try out the rest of the stuff I bought. What about you, Claire? Did you get some alone time yet with all the toys everyone bought you tonight?" she said with a wink and a wag of her eyebrows.

"Wait, the girls at the party bought you vibrators?" Liz questioned, suddenly forgetting about the fact that everyone was supposed to be thinking of something other than my down-there-place.

"Nope, this isn't at all uncomfortable. Thanks for asking," I said under my breath, with a roll of my eyes.

"Can we go back to what Jenny was saying? I'd like some more details about her alone time: location, mood lighting, standing up or sitting down and if she’s in need of a spotter next time. I have excellent upper body strength," Drew said with a wink as he recovered from having noodles lodged in his windpipe.

"Eeew," I muttered.

"So you really sell sex toys?" Carter said to me with a dreamy look in his eyes as he leaned in my direction with his elbows resting on the table.

I could feel my face heating up. This was not a conversation I wanted to have with him of all people. I was trying to figure out a way to tell him his love mayonnaise had mad skills and no one at this table could stop talking about vibrators.

"Technically, she doesn't sell them. She's just doing it as a favor to me," Liz chimed in, saving me from trying to explain. "We’re starting up a business together. I'm selling sex toys and she'll sell cookies and candies."

"I like sex and….caaaaandy yeeaaahhh," Drew sang, completely fucking up the words to the song.

"Oh, so in answer to your question Liz—yes!" Jenny said over top of Drew’s poor rendition of the sex and candy song. "Everyone tonight bought Claire a vibrator! How many did you end up with? Eleven?" Jenny asked. "I still can't believe you have never used one on yourself. That's just insanity right there. No orgasm comes close to the ones you can have with one of those puppies."

This was not happening right now. This was a dream wasn't it? Like one of those where you're in front of your entire high school naked and everyone is pointing at you and laughing. Except this time, I'm lying on the dining room table naked and everyone is pointing dildos at me.

"Oh my gosh, I know right?" Liz agreed, leaning forward so she could see around me. "I can have multiple orgasms in seconds with the Jack Rabbit."

Liz was a traitor. Benedict Liz. That's what I was calling her from now on. Fucking Benedict Liz.

"No offense baby," she said sheepishly to Jim.

"None take, love. As long as you get off, I'm happy," he said with a smile as he leaned over and kissed her shoulder.

"Claire, you absolutely have to go home tonight and use the Jack Rabbit. And then call me immediately after and give me a report," Jenny said excitedly.

"No, she shouldn't go with JR her first time out of the gate, that will scar her for life. She needs to ease herself into using toys. Did anyone buy you a bullet?" Liz asked casually with a glance in my direction. "A bullet is the best bet for your first time. It's small, doesn't make a lot of noise but it's powerful as shit," Liz explained. “It will take you thirty seconds, tops.”

Are these people seriously discussing how I should give myself an orgasm at the dinner table like they were discussing the directions for putting together a book shelf? Insert slot A into your vagina and twist. What the fuck is happening right now?!

"Sorry," I said to Carter. "My vagina usually isn’t dinner topic conversation."

He was the only one that heard me since everyone else at the table was…fuck! Still talking about my God damned vagina.

“Maybe she should use the blue dolphin. It’s so cute with its bottle nose and adorable little eyes and fin! She could make up a whole story about it swimming up her channel!” Jenny proclaimed.

Carter laughed and gave me a reassuring smile and for some strange reason I wanted to climb over the table and lick his mouth.

"Alright, now I'm curious. Bullets, rabbits, dolphins…are we still talking about vibrators or are you freaky people into bestiality? I want to see these things and what they can do. Claire, go out to your car and bring them in," Drew said as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "This thing has a video camera on it somewhere…" he trailed off, pushing a bunch of buttons.

"Um, no. I am not bringing in vibrators that I have neither confirmed nor denied to receiving. So shut up and eat your dinner, all of you."

"Too bad that Max guy didn't have a bullet on him. You could have at least gotten off before his dad came home," Jenny laughed.

"Ooooh, is this the guy you were talking about when you walked in the door? What happened?" Drew asked, momentarily forgetting about filming amateur porn on his cell phone.

"No. Absolutely not," I protested.

“Come on, Claire, it’s no big deal, just answer it,” Jenny begged with a laugh.

“Come on, Claire,” Drew argued while I sat there with my arms folded glaring at him.

“Answer the question, Claire!” Drew and Jenny said sternly at the same time while trying to reign in their laughter.

“Yeah, because I’ve never heard the Breakfast Club reference before,” I muttered.

"Awww, don't feel bad, Claire. Everyone's got an embarrassing sex experience. Hell, Carter here had sex with a virgin when he was drunk one time in college and never found out her name."

Somewhere in heaven, baby Jesus is weeping. Or maybe that’s just me and the sound of my dignity dying. I'm sure Jim, Liz and I looked like we just witnessed a horrific car accident. And technically, we kind of did. I felt like blocking off the table with crime scene tape. "Keep it movin' folks, there's nothing to see here – just my self-respect being flushed down the crapper."

I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing and Liz smacked Jim in the chest so he’d close his mouth which was currently stuck in the “holy shit, did that just happen?!” wide open position. I wondered for a minute if this whole thing was one big elaborate plan to trip me up and get me to confess and that everyone at the table was in on it. My eyes glanced over to Carter to see his reaction and he looked embarrassed, not like he wanted to wring my neck for keeping a secret from him that he knew and he knew that I knew that he knew.

Aaaaack!

I started tapping my foot nervously, my leg bouncing up and down. Liz reached over under the table and put her hand on my knee.

"Drew, Jesus, man," Carter muttered, shaking his head.

"Claire…"

I interrupted Liz. She was giving me a look that clearly said now was a perfect opportunity to come clean, but I wasn't ready for that yet. This was not something you blurted across the table in front of people. Instead, I let the word vomit flow.

"So, I used to work with this guy Max at the bar. We were pretty good friends and seemed to have a lot in common.”

I conveniently skipped over the part that our primary mutual interest was that we were both single parents at the time.

“We tried to tack on a friend with benefits thing a few years ago. His recently widowed father had just retired and moved in to the apartment above his garage. It was the middle of summer and we were all in the house watching a movie. His dad decides to get up and go fishing for a few hours. So, he leaves and we start going at it on the couch."

Everyone at the table stopped eating and stared at me as the story flew from my mouth in one long, continuous run-on sentence.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm covering up one humiliation with another.

"So, we're naked from the waist down and he dives right in. Exactly two seconds later, the front door opens and in walks his dad. He's too busy trying to get through the door with a fishing rod and a tackle box that he doesn't notice us scrambling around on the couch trying to throw a blanket over the bottom half of us."

Drew’s shoulders were shaking in silent laughter, Carter looked sorry for me and everyone else just nodded their heads up and down since they had heard this story before.

"So, his dad walks right into the living room, sits down in the middle of the floor with his back to us and starts organizing his tackle box and rambling to us about how the lake was closed for fishing. Meanwhile, we're under a heavy, wool blanket on the couch behind him in the middle of July."

"Totally not suspicious at all," Carter joked.

I finally looked at him and when I realized he wasn’t outright laughing at me, I took a deep breath to go on.

"Yeah, not at all considering Max didn't have air conditioning and it was about ninety-eight degrees out that day."

Drew shook his head in amusement. "So what the hell did you do?"

"Well, I sat there horrified and Max started digging in the couch cushions for his boxers. The more he dug, the more the blanket was threatening to get pulled right off of my naked lap. I was holding on to that thing for dear life while his dad continued to mumble about lures and bait three feet in front of us. Max finally finds his boxers and shorts and starts shimmying into them under the blanket. Meanwhile, I'm still trying to hang onto the blanket and dig for my underwear at the same time, but can't find them anywhere. I found my shorts though so I yank those on and almost scream in victory when Max flings the blanket off of our lap because I was sweating my ass off under that thing."

Everyone was thoroughly amused by my story, and I didn't mind too much at this point since they weren't talking about me getting myself off or Carter’s cherry popping blunder.

"You're forgetting the best part, Claire," Jim reminded me.

"Oh yeah. So when Max yanked the blanket off of us, my underwear must have been stuck somewhere in there. It went flying through the air and hit his dad in the back of the head."

"So what did you do?" Carter asked.

"I did what any self-respecting, grown woman would do when faced with a situation like that. I stood up, ran like hell out of that house and pretended like it never happened."

***

The rest of the night went pretty well, aside from the wide-eyed looks and head nods in Carter’s direction Liz kept shooting me every couple of minutes when there was a lull in the conversation. She seriously expected me to just blurt this shit out in between courses in front of everyone. “Why yes, this apple pie is delicious. Did you know apple comes from the Latin word alum, which means you knocked me up?”

We finished dinner and Liz made the men do the dishes so she, Jenny and I could start brainstorming some names for the business. We had it narrowed down to three that we loved and couldn't decide between. And then the guys joined us and the suggestions immediately went in the gutter. It’s amazing, really, how quickly they can go from zero to filthy.

Plastic Penises and Pastries.

Cocks and Cookies.

Sex and Candy (I'll give you one guess who suggested that one.)

Lubes and Lady Fingers.

Cock Rings and Confectioneries.

I sat on the couch the entire time pretending to pay attention but all I could do was stare at Carter. Every time he smiled I felt like someone punched me in the stomach which was just stupid. I didn't even know him. He was a one-night-stand.

A one-night-stand I felt comfortable enough with to give him one of the most important gifts a girl has to give and the little time I spent with him was enough to create a lasting memory of how alike the two of us were. It was also enough time to create another lasting memory that I’ve had to love, nurture and mold all by myself into something that I hope resembles a well-behaved child and will not need years of therapy due to my parenting skills.

None of the similarities in our personalities or how attracted I was to him then and now has any bearing on this moment, though. As soon as I tell him he’s a father and has a four-and-a-half year old son, he was probably going to hate me. At least I had nine months to get used to the idea. What single, gorgeous man in his twenties wanted to be told he was now saddled with the giant responsibility of a kid for the rest of his life?

He was going to head for the hills when I told him. He was going to scream, turn and run. Like one of those cartoon characters that go charging through a door and all you see is a giant hole in the wood shaped like them running. I needed to just prepare myself for that. And it wasn't like I could blame him. It was a completely insane situation that no one in their right mind would ever believe. Gavin and I did quite well on our own so far anyways. You couldn't miss something you never had. If he chose to never speak to us again, so be it.

So why did the thought of that suddenly make me sad?

I glanced at my watch and realized it was almost ten o'clock. I needed to get home and relieve my dad of babysitting duty.

"Hey, where are you off to? It's not even ten yet," Drew said as I stood up from the couch and started moving to the foyer to grab my coat.

"Sorry, I need to get home to Ga…et some laundry finished," I said, stumbling over my words.

Dammit, I almost said Gavin. I am a chicken-shit. I should have just said it and gotten it over with. Liz winced at my almost-slip and Jim coughed.

"I'll call you tomorrow and we can go over a few more things," Liz said with a raise of her eyebrows.

I know by "go over a few more things" she meant that she was going to beat the shit out of me for not saying something to Carter tonight.

Super, looking forward to it.

I waved good-bye to everyone and quickly walked out into the foyer. I had just gotten my coat on when Carter came rushing around the corner.

"Hey, I'll walk you out to your car," he said as he opened the front door for me with a smile.

I stood there like an idiot, just staring at him. I should tell him. Right now, while we’re out here alone.

Hey, you don't remember me, but I’m the one whose virginity you took five years ago and well, guess what? It's a boy!

I couldn’t do it. I broke my stare and walked out the door, rushing down the steps to my car and putting as much distance between us as I could. Didn’t Liz say that Carter mentioned to Jim something about his “mystery girl” smelling like chocolate? I didn’t need him putting the connection together. Not now. I needed more time. I needed to figure out what to say and find out what kind of guy he really was. Did he even want children? Did he plan on staying in town for long or was he going to put in for another transfer? Maybe he already had six other children spread around the world that he didn’t support. Oh God, what if he decides he wants to be a father to Gavin and sticks around, then something happens to all the mothers of his illegitimate children and suddenly he gets custody of them and we have not one but seven children? And they all hate us because we were never there for them and Gavin turns to life on the streets and turning tricks for crack because a homeless guy named Fromunda Cheese told him crack ISN’T whack. I needed more time. I needed to formulate a plan that kept Gavin out of the hood. I also needed to calm down. It’s not like Carter was begging for my attention or asking to see me again. He was being nice and walking me to my car. End of story.

Carter followed right behind me and stopped by the hood as I opened the door and turned to face him.

"I'd like to see you again, Claire," he said softly.

"Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw," I muttered as I stood there with the car door open.

His mouth dropped open and for a second I thought I saw recognition flash across his face.

Shit, I just quoted Heathers. I didn't even realize what I was saying. The non-bat-shit crazy part of me willed him to remember, to put two and two together and realize that I was the girl from the frat party. Jesus, we’d practically acted out the entire movie while we played beer pong. We traded quotes back and forth until our sides ached from laughing. But his silence proved that whatever memories he may have had about me were still locked up tight in the far recesses of his mind.

"Call me. Liz can give you my number," I blurted before I could change my mind. I scrambled into the car, started it up and pulled quickly out of the driveway, glancing into the rearview mirror to see Carter, still standing in the driveway, get smaller and smaller as I drove away.