Futures and Frosting Page 8
What the hell are we even talking about? I feel like I’m going to puke. And why the fuck is Drew meowing in the kitchen? Do we have a cat? Oh fuck, did I forget to feed a cat? Claire’s going to kill me if I murdered her cat.
The last thing I remember before passing out is Jim telling me in a moment of drunken brilliance that Claire would marry me if I fed her lobster and that we should call the queen and ask her if her she would trade us some Grey Poupon for the bridge she doesn’t know she lost.
9. No Nut Shots Before Lunch
The muffled vibrations of my cell phone from its spot under my pillow forces my eyes open. I blink the sleep out of them, pull my ear plugs out of each ear, and slide my hand under my pillow to answer the phone.
“Jesus, Claire. What the hell is that noise? It sounds like a monster. Is there a monster in your house?”
I chuckle at Jenny’s question and roll over onto my back and look over at Carter who's fast asleep next to me.
“No, there isn’t a monster in my house,” I whisper. “That growling snort you hear is Carter snoring.”
Once again I thank the good Lord for blessing me with the best earplugs in the world. Not something people typically give thanks for, but I am pretty sure God felt slighted because he is only remembered for the big stuff. I firmly believe there is a special place for me in heaven because I remember to thank him for Southern Butter Pecan coffee creamer and Coochy Cream shaving gel.
“Wow, he really needs to get that checked out,” Jenny informs me. “You know, I read something the other day that maybe he should try. It said taking those relaxative things for a few days will make your whole body healthier. Maybe that would fix his sinuses.”
“Did you say relaxative? Jenny, what the hell is a relaxative?”
I fling the covers off of me and sit up in bed so I can wake up a little more and be able to talk to her with a clear head. I doubt it will help, but here’s to hoping.
“You know,” she says with a huff, “R-E-L-A-X-A-T-I-V-E.”
The fact that she feels the need to enunciate the word like I am the one with the problem and my inability to understand is irritating her makes me want to shank her.
“I heard the word. I just don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I complain as I get out of bed and stretch before making my way out into the hall.
“You know, those pills you take to flush out your system. Relaxatives.”
I open Gavin’s bedroom door across the hall from our room and peek in on him. He was still out, lying on his back horizontally across his bed with his head hanging off of the edge. There’s no way that can be comfortable but I'm not about to move him back up to his pillow and run the risk of waking him up before I've had my coffee. I shut the door quietly and go back to dealing with Jenny while I head to the kitchen.
“I think you mean laxatives,” I tell her with a sigh. “And they aren’t really supposed to be used to flush out your system. Where the hell did you even read that about snoring?”
“Google. So you know it’s true. Tell Carter to try it and you can thank me with chocolate when it works,” she replies.
I stop in my tracks in the kitchen doorway at the sight before me, unable to even formulate a reply to Jenny about how making Carter shit his brains out most likely would not stop his snoring.
“So anyway, I was calling to ask you if Drew was still at your house. I got a text from him last night as I was leaving your shop that the Cat in the Hat told him he should spend the night. I have no idea what that meant, but as long as I got the whole bed to myself I didn’t care.”
After the girls had helped me put together the huge chocolate and cookie order last night for a wedding today, we all left to go home. Gavin had fallen asleep in the car so when I got in the house, I bypassed the kitchen and went straight down the hall to his bedroom and then put myself to bed next to a snoring Carter.
I don’t know whether I should be happy that I didn’t see this sight last night or not. On his back, with his arms and legs flung out to the side, is Drew. Asleep. ON MY KITCHEN TABLE. His ass now rests exactly where I usually put the salt and pepper shakers.
“Yes, he’s still here. I need to hang up now so I can beat his ass,” I tell her as I walk up to the table, hold the phone between my cheek and shoulder, and then use both of my hands to shove him as hard as I could. His limp body slides easily across the table and crashes to the floor on the other side.
“Don’t hurt my pookie-bear!” Jenny yells through the phone.
I walk around the table and stand by Drew’s head, looking down at him as he groans.
“Wow, did I sleep on your floor all night?” Drew asks as he opens his eyes and glances up at me from the floor. “You really should consider putting in carpet instead of hardwood. This stuff is really uncomfortable.”
Drew rolls over onto all fours with another groan and slowly stands up, twisting and turning as he moves to try and crack his back.
“Get. Out. Of. My. House,” I tell him as calmly as I can without screaming and waking up Carter and Gavin.
“Tell him I love him and that my vagina misses him!” Jenny yells excitedly.
“Jenny says to tell you that you need to GET YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
“Heeeeey, that’s not what I said,” Jenny mutters.
“Jenny, I’ll call you back.”
I hang up the phone and open my mouth to tell Drew to get out of my house again, just in case he hadn't hear me the first two times, when Gavin comes running into the kitchen in his pajamas.
“Hi, Uncle Drew!” he says excitedly as he runs up to Drew. Just as Drew starts to bend over to greet him, Gavin pulls his elbow back and catapults his fist right between Drew’s legs.
Drew falls down on his knees with a yelp and I laugh. I know you’re not supposed to laugh when your child does something he shouldn’t, but I feel this was deserved. I had just found Drew passed out in the middle of the table we eat on. He’s lucky I didn’t stop Gavin and give him a baseball bat first.
“Gavin, dude, we had a rule!”
At the sound of his voice, I turn to find Carter walking into the room rubbing sleep from one eye. He kisses my cheek as he steps around me and kneels down to Gavin’s level.
“Gavin, what was our rule?” Carter asks while Drew clutches his junk, alternating between coughing and making some strange whining noise that reminds me of the sound a balloon makes when you pinch and stretch the opening of it and slowly let the air out.
“No nut shots before lunch,” Gavin replies solemnly.
“Right, no nut shots before lunch. And do you know what time it is?” Carter asks.
“I can’t tell time,” Gavin states.
“Have you had lunch yet?” Carter asks.
“No.”
“Then it’s before lunch. Tell Uncle Drew you’re sorry.”
Gavin sighs and turns to face Drew who has finally stopped moaning and is in the process of getting back to his feet.
“I’m sorry I shot you in the nuts before lunch,” Gavin mumbles. “Can I have some cereal now?” he asks as he looks at me and away from Drew.
“Sure, baby,” I tell him with a smile as I take his hand and walk him toward one of the kitchen chairs. I take one look at the table and veer us in the direction of a bar stool at the island instead. I need to bleach Drew’s ass from that table before we ever eat there again.
“My testicles are sitting in my stomach right now. How can you even think about cereal?” Drew asks as he limps over to the counter and grabs his keys.
“Your tentacles are dumb and I’m hungry,” Gavin replies around a mouthful of Lucky Charms as I finish pouring the milk in his bowl.
“Whatever, kid. Thanks for letting me crash, guys. I’m gonna make like a fetus and head out.”
I let out a big sigh when the door closes behind Drew.
“The next time I find him asleep on any piece of furniture in this house, I’m taking it out on you,” I tell Carter.
He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist and places a kiss to the curve of my neck.
“Deal,” he replies as he rests his chin on my shoulder.
“You realize you made a rule with your son that states he has permission to punch people in the nuts after lunch, correct?”
“Yeah. It sounded good at the time when I made the rule. He had just shown me for the second time the power of his punch, and I was crippled on the ground at the park at the time, so I might not have had full brain function.”
I stand there for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of Carter’s arms around me as we watch our son scarf down his breakfast.
“I want to have your parents over for dinner,” I told him as I turn in his arms and rest my hands against his chest. “I want to cook something really delicious, ply them with alcohol and chocolate, and make them like me. Or at least drunk enough to forget why they don’t.”
Carter chuckles and tightens his arms around me.
“Babe, they like you. I swear. My grandma even said you had spunk.”
“That’s old person speak for ‘she’s bat shit crazy and I’m afraid I’ll bust a hip just being in the same room with her when I beat her ass.' I need a chance to make a better first impression,” I explain.
“Your FIRST, first impression was just fine. You’re forgetting who my best friend is. The first time they met Drew he crashed at our house one night in high school. My mom found him sleepwalking in the middle of the night. She walked into the living room and he was peeing on the couch. Believe me, they’ve seen it all,” Carter reassures me.
“Drew is a moron. He shouldn’t be allowed in public without a leash and a handler. I am the mother of their grandson. I shouldn’t be talking about a whale’s vagina on their Facebook pages. I should be posting pictures of their grandson at a museum studying the works of Michelangelo and posting status messages about my philanthropic work like holding babies in orphanages and hugging homeless people.”
Carter stares at me quizzically for a few minutes.
“Will you say something?” I demand.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to figure out if you’re serious or not.”
“Why the hell wouldn’t I be serious? I could totally be that person. I could be that person and you wouldn’t even know it,” I tell him indignantly as I cross my arms in front of me.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I would notice if you suddenly turned into a completely different person,” he tells me with a laugh.
“Are you saying I’m not a nice person? That I wouldn’t cuddle a strange baby or make a homeless guy feel special? Because I would totally do all of that. Maybe I’ve already been doing it behind your back. Maybe instead of going to the dentist the other day I went to a PETA meeting and threw fake blood on rich people wearing fur. Maybe Gavin has been learning French at night while you’re at work.”
I crane my neck behind me to look at Gavin.
“Hey, say something in French,” I tell him.
“I like french fries,” he tells me as he looks up from his cereal bowl with milk dripping down his chin.
“See?” I say as I turn back to face Carter. “He can already use a word in a sentence.”
“Okay, stop. Take a deep breath. Of course I think you’re a nice person. I think you’re an amazing person. But I think we all know that you are not a Stepford Wife and Gavin isn’t conjugating French verbs while listening to Mozart.”
“MY WIENER EXPLODED!”
Carter drops his arms from my waist, and I jump around in horror at Gavin’s scream.
“Never mind. I just spillded milk on it. I have a milk wiener now.”
I shake my head and turn back to face Carter.
“I rest my case,” he says with a laugh.
I frown and try to act indignant but Carter can see the wheels turning in my head and cuts me off.
“I love both of you exactly the way you are. I love that you have no filter, and I adore that Gavin can make grown men cry. There is not one thing I would change about either one of you, and if anyone doesn’t like it, they can kiss my ass. You guys are my life and my family now. Nothing else matters.”
Carter bends down and presses a soft kiss to my lips and pulls me tighter against him. His words push aside some of my fears about his family, but it doesn’t change the fact that I still want to try again with them. I plan on spending a very long time with this man. I'm still not sold on the whole marriage thing, but I still want him in my life forever, which means I needed to find a way to get on his parents' good side one way or another. If I have to get them drunk, so be it.
“Thank you. But I still want to have your parents over for dinner. I want to at least show them I can act like an adult most of the time.”
10. Ceiling Fan Baseball
“Oh my God! You guys are doing it all wrong. Obviously we need to go over these rules one more time. The dinner roll needs to be thrown under hand at the ceiling fan. That’s the only way you’ll get the arc you need for a good pitch. We’re not going for speed, people. We’re going for accuracy. Someone pop another batch in the oven so we can start the third inning for fuck’s sake!”
After my mother finishes her explanation, she hefts the wooden cutting board up to her shoulder by the handle and readies herself for the pitch.
“Carter, if you bend over like that in front of me again, I might have to grab that sweet little tush of yours and call your mother and thank her.”
I’ll toast to that.
I raise my wine glass in the air for a toast while Drew does a couple of practice throws.
“I got this one, Mom. Dear Mrs. Ellis, thank you for pushing Carter out of your vagina and having such good genes that he has the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen,” I say with a snort and a wink in Carter’s direction.
“Um, thank you?”
My eyes go wide and with my wine glass still held above my head. I turn around slowly and find Carter’s parents standing in the dining room doorway looking around at the scene in front of them in shock and awe...but mostly shock.
In hindsight, I should have known better than to listen to anything my mother suggests. Carter’s parents had canceled coming to dinner at the last minute because his father was feeling under the weather. How was I supposed to know they would just show up an hour after dinner was over only to find me talking about her vagina, her son naked from the waist up with his shirt tied around his forehead, my dad sitting in the far corner of the room with a bowl of mashed potatoes in his lap, Drew wearing an apron that said, “I didn’t wash my hands before I fondled your meat,” and Liz and Jenny crawling on all fours around the kitchen table, eating the broken pieces of dinner rolls off of the floor and giggling.
From now on when my mom says, “Beating a dead horse around a bush during a blue moon won’t fix anything,” I’m going to plug my ears and walk away.
Two hours earlier
“Does it make me a bad person if I feel really bad that your dad doesn’t feel well, but feel even worse for myself because I did all this work and now they won’t see it?”
Carter laughs and uncorks a bottle of wine.
“I still can’t believe you thought their anniversary was the perfect day to have my parents over for dinner.”
He pours me a glass of wine as I slide on oven mitts and pull the roast out of the oven.
“Daddy, I wanna help cook the food. What can I make?” Gavin asks as he comes bounding into the kitchen.
“Well, I think Mommy’s got everything just about done. How about you take people’s coats as they come in the door?”
The doorbell rings and Gavin, happy with the chore he has just been given, scampers off to see who is here.
“I know. It was a crazy idea to do this on their thirtieth anniversary, but I just wanted them to come here, have a nice, family dinner and see that I can be a normal, well-balanced adult. What better day to do that than on a day where everyone has to rejoice in their love, and it woul
d be against the spirit of the marriage in general if anyone said the words whore, vagina, or penis out loud?”
I set the roaster pan on top of the stove and toss the oven mitts onto the counter. The sound of Gavin answering the door puts a halt to our conversation.
“Hi, Uncle Jim. Give me a dollar and I’ll cut you.”
Carter hands me the glass of Chardonnay and sighs.
“How did he go from, ‘Can I take your coats please?’ to ‘I’m going to murder you for ringing the doorbell.’?”
I shrug and take a sip of the chilled wine.
“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise your parents couldn’t come. I think we need a trial run to get this normal thing down pat first,” I tell him with a smile.
“I am not going to say I told you so,” Carter says with a kiss to my cheek.
“Good. Because if you did, I’d have Gavin take your coat and shiv you.”
Carter walks out of the room when the doorbell rings again to make sure Gavin doesn’t make good on his cutting threats.
With my wine glass in one hand, I start placing serving spoons in all of the side dishes and then pull out the big carving knife so Carter can cut the roast. While I work, I listen to the sounds of a football game coming from the television in the living room and my family and friends talking quietly amongst themselves as they show up. Even if Carter’s parents couldn’t make it, I know it will still be a good day and a great dinner.
“Claire Bear! Who is this sexy beast you have answering the door for you now?”
I choke on a mouthful of wine and turn to see my mother walk into the room with her arm linked through Carter’s. “Have you been working out, Carter?” she asks as she rubs her hand up and down his bicep.
“Mom? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to an art gallery opening?” I ask.
She lets go of Carter’s arm and practically skips across the kitchen to me, wrapping me in her arms and squealing in delight.