Futures and Frosting (22 page)

“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.

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.