by Tara Sivec
"Jesus Christ, who's screaming?" Drew asked with a cringe.
I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, attempting to put the phone back to my ear.
"I swear to fucking God if you puke in this cab I will punch you in the neck! Stop being a pussy!"
"Hey!" I yelled, trying to be heard over the screams. "HELLO!"
The screams continued and the three of us moved into the kitchen so we wouldn't wake Gavin.
"You're a mother for Christ's sakes! It's just a little blood. Will you stop screaming?"
"LIZ! HELLO!" I yelled again, once we got to the kitchen.
Drew was laughing but I knew those screams. And hearing Liz mention the word "blood" freaked me out a little. Was Claire bleeding?
"Drew, call Jenny," I said quickly.
A few seconds later I heard ringing through my end of the phone call and the sound of Jenny’s voice over Claire’s screams and Liz’s yelling. I hung up since I wasn't getting anywhere and turned to face Drew.
"Awww, I love you too, Snuggie!"
I punched Drew in the shoulder and indicated that he should get to the point by giving him the finger.
"Hey, baby, what's going on? Why is Claire screaming?" he asked, pulling the phone back and hitting the speaker button.
The screaming and arguing burst into the room and we all winced.
“Claire’s got nice boobies," Jenny said.
I rolled my eyes.
"Baby, focus. What is going on? Where are you?" Drew asked her.
"I'm dying! Oh my God, I'm going to bleed to death in a cab that smells like pee and curry!"
Why the fuck is Claire bleeding in a cab?
"Claire had an assident. Axiscent. She's got a boo boo," Jenny slurred.
"Alright ladies, Butler General Hospital. No, don't pay me; just get the hell out of my cab."
***
Drew and Jim stayed at my house with Gavin and I raced to the hospital.
What if Claire had a freak garbage disposal incident and lost a hand? Or a really heavy meat cleaver fell on her leg and they needed to amputate? My house was not wheelchair accessible. Fuck! Could you buy wheelchair ramps at Walmart?
By the time I made it to the emergency room, I sorely regretted leaving Jim and Drew back at the house. I was stuck in a room with three drunken women. One of whom was sobbing hysterically about orphaning our son while the other two knocked shit over and yelled random things to people who walked by.
"Excuse me sir, do you know where we can get an x-ray of the stapler stuck in her vagina?" Liz asked an orderly that walked by as she pointed her thumb at Claire.
I gave the guy an apologetic look before focusing my attention on Claire.
"Baby, it's fine. It's just a little cut on your finger. Two stitches really aren't that big of a deal," I told her as I held her in my arms and rubbed her back.
I snapped my fingers at Jenny and Liz who were now in the corner of the room trying to get rubber gloves on their heads. They gave me innocent looks, smacked each other and kept giggling.
"Not a big deal? Not a big deal?" she said loudly. "They asked me if I had a living will. I almost DIED tonight!"
I chuckled, but quickly masked it when she shot me a dirty look.
"Claire, that's normal. They ask everyone that," I reassured her.
"I concur, do you concur?" Liz asked.
"Not helping," I growled.
"Not caring," she replied before turning back to the supply cabinet in the room.
"What if I died? My baby would be alone," she sobbed.
“Um, hello? Father, standing right here," I reminded her.
"Fine. But what if something happens to both of us? They could ship him off to my Aunt Gertie the hoarder who talks to her curtains and eats soap," she whined.
I grabbed her face in my hands and wiped away the tears, giving her a soft kiss on the lips.
"Okay, if there's a natural disaster tomorrow and neither one of us is here, I'm sure your dad wouldn't mind stepping in. Why are you so worried about this right now?"
"They asked me if in the event of an emergency, someone could administer Last Rites to me. They thought I was going to die tonight, Carter. This is serious!" she cried. "What if my dad has a heart attack tomorrow or an asteroid lands on him when he's walking to his car after work?"
No more Sci-Fi channel before bed for Claire.
"I swear to you that they ask everyone about Last Rites. But would it make you feel better if we get something in writing so you don't have to worry about this? We can make a list of people that is ten pages long if it will make you feel better."
She nodded happily and threw her arms around my neck.
"Thank you so much, baby. I love you more than a hooker loves free VD testing day at the clinic," she told me drunkenly.
I rubbed her back and shot dirty looks to Liz and Jenny when I saw that they’d taken over the dry-erase board with important hospital phone numbers that hung on the wall. Instead of “Order Meals” it now said “Order Hookers”, and instead of “For a Chapel Visit, ask a nurse” it now said “For a Happy Ending, ask a nurse.”
The doctor walked in then with Claire’s discharge papers and a prescription for an antibiotic. He explained everything to us and turned to leave the room.
"Doctor, wait! This patient needs an enema STAT!" Liz yelled while Jenny waved a rubber tube over her head like a lasso.
I think we could safely say that some people will already be crossed off of the guardian list.
20. Have You Seen Mike Hunt?
Oh Jesus fucking hell. Where's the monkey that kicked me in the head and shit in my mouth?
"I think I'm dying," I croaked.
Carter’s laughter shook the bed and forced a little bit of vomit up into my throat. I clamped my hand over my mouth and started breathing through my nose to make it stop.
"Please don't start the 'I'm dying' thing again. It's too early and I'm not awake enough to say anything comforting," Carter replied as he slowly rubbed circles on my back.
I started to ask him what the hell he was talking about when the pounding in my head turned into flashes of memories from the night before.
"Oh my God, I sent a picture of my boobs to Jim," I moaned as a fresh wave of nausea rolled through me.
"You also threw up in the emergency room parking lot, called Drew and told him you were the Donkey Punch Dick Queen and filled out a Last Will and Testament on a Burger King napkin and then asked the drive-thru worker to notarize it."
I am never drinking again. I am never drinking again.
"Why can't I be one of those people who black out when they drink? It would be really nice right now if I didn't have to remember these things," I muttered.
I felt the bed shift behind me and a few seconds later, Carter’s arm came around me and held a napkin in front of my face.
"Sorry, baby, even if you did black out, I still have proof of your stupidity," he said with a laugh. I grabbed the napkin from his hand and squinted at the messy writing that was all over it as he got back under the covers behind me.
"I don't wanna be def. Death. Dead. This Burger Twin nappykin just got served as my will, BEOTCH! The fries here suck, by the way. If I die, don't feed my son your shitty fries. Don't give my son to the creepy child molester king you put in your commercials either. What the fuck is wrong with that guy? He's got a normal body and a plastic face that is always smiley. It's not right, man. It's just not right. My ears feel funny."
I wondered if someone gave me a roofie last night. This was the one time in my life I hoped I got roofied, so I could blame it on something other than me being a horrible drunk.
"Wow, okay, so I've been meaning to bring up the subject of having a will drafted by a lawyer and getting a new birth certificate for Gavin that has your name on it. I probably should have done that before I drank my weight in wine," I explained.
"Well, lucky for you, I'm fluent in Claire’s Drunken Ramblings. Even though you barely knew w
hat you were saying last night, I could tell this is important to you. It's important to me too. God forbid anything should ever happen to us, but if something does, it would make me feel better knowing Gavin is going to be okay. I mean, I know we have your dad and even though you haven’t met them yet, my parents are absolutely on board with anything that has to do with Gavin, but I agree that we should also have someone younger as a back-up plan just in case. I know you're going to be insanely busy for the next month or so once the shop opens tomorrow, and we'll have no time to really sit down and discuss this, so I thought maybe we could just sort of pop in on our friends in the next few days and see how they do when they're around Gavin. You know, sort of like a secret interview."
I really wanted to throw up right now, but I had to choke it back because Carter deserved my undivided, non-spewing attention.
"I can't believe you actually took me seriously about anything last night."
Carter slid over to my side of the bed, pressing his body up against mine as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
"I take everything you say seriously. Even when you're sexting our friends and screaming into the drive-thru window that whoever is making your burger better not spit in it," Carter said, placing a kiss to my temple.
I lifted my hand up in front of my face and noticed the bandage wrapped around my middle finger for the first time.
"I guess it's fitting I almost sliced off my middle finger. It will be fun to flip everyone off when they ask me what happened," I said with a sigh. "You know what I just remembered? Liz and Jim are babysitting his little cousin for a few hours today. I was planning on going over there so she and Gavin could play while Liz and I filled out the last of our paperwork. You could come with us and we could do our first super secret spy interview."
Carter leaned up on his elbow so he could look down at me.
"Will I get to wear a secret decoder ring and make up a spy code name, like Ichybon Snagglewhip or Bonanza Challywag?"
I turned my head and looked up at him.
"Will I ever have to say those names out loud, in front of people we know?" I asked.
"Only if our cover is blown."
He laid his head back down on the pillow behind me and within seconds, I could feel his hard penis up against my ass.
"Really? Talking about Bonanza Challywag excites you?" I asked with a laugh, trying not to grimace when the action made my stomach churn.
His hand, that rested on my stomach, snuck under my tank top and slid up the front of my body until it came in contact with my bare breast.
"Anything I say, do or think about with you excites me," he said softly as his palm feathered over my nipple. I pushed my hips back and rubbed my ass up against his length while he kneaded my breast and pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. His head jerked away from me abruptly and his hand stopped its exploration of my flesh.
"You're going to throw up, aren't you?" he asked as I squeezed my eyes shut and thought about rainbows and kittens and other things that didn't make me want to puke.
It didn't work. Rainbows made me think of, "Taste the rainbow," which made me think of Skittles and the half-pound bag I ate last night before bed. Kittens made me think of fleas and litter boxes with little poops that looked like tootsie rolls covered in rocks and…
I bolted out of bed and raced to the bathroom, barely making it in time before I emptied the contents of my stomach—which coincidentally looked a bit like a rainbow.
"It's okay, my penis is not offended in the least that it just made you throw up," Carter yelled from the bedroom.
***
Carter got Gavin up, dressed and fed him breakfast while I took a shower and tried to feel human. As much as I hated to do it, puking actually helped. I exorcised the demons.
When I got out of the shower, I realized I didn't have any clothes...well, aside from the tank top I wore to bed and underwear. Where the hell did my clothes go?
I went through Carter’s closet and found one of his shirts and threw it on then dug through his underwear drawer for a pair of boxers. Instead, buried way in the back, I found a teeny, tiny pair of red banana-hammock briefs.
The revenge gods were smiling down on me today, my friends.
I shimmied into them and made my way out to the kitchen where Carter was cleaning up breakfast and Gavin was giving him a run for his money.
"Mommy always lets me have candy right after breakfast."
I stood just outside of the doorway so I could see them but they couldn't see me. Gavin was seated at the kitchen table and Carter had his back to him, loading things in the dishwasher.
"Right, candy after breakfast. And I'm Santa Claus," Carter muttered quietly.
"You're Santa Claus?!!" Gavin asked excitedly, standing up on his chair.
Carter whipped around to face him with a panicked look on his face.
"What? No. Well, technically... Wait, no. No, no, no. I am not Santa Claus. That was just a figure of speech," he explained.
"What's a finger of peach?"
"Shit!" Carter muttered.
Gavin pointed at him.
"Awwwwww, you said shit," he accused, making sure to whisper the bad word.
"So did you," Carter argued. "Don't tell your mother."
"Don't tell me what?" I asked, walking through the doorway with a smile.
Carter sighed. "You heard that didn't you?"
I walked up to Gavin and scooped him off of the chair and into my arms for a hug.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I told him as I kissed both of Gavin's cheeks.
"How did you sleep last night, little man?"
He squeezed me as hard as he could until I had to pry his arms from around my neck so I could breathe.
"I slept good. But you crawled into my bed wif me last night and told me never to talk to kings with smiley faces," he told me.
Carter laughed while I groaned.
I gave Gavin one last squeeze and then set him down on his feet.
"Run into your room and find your shoes, okay? We're going to see Aunt Liz and Uncle Jim in a little bit."
He let out a cheer of excitement and ran out of the room.
I walked over to Carter and leaned my body into his while he lounged against the kitchen counter.
"You look good wearing my shirt," he said as he wrapped his arms around me.
I kissed his chin and looked up at him.
"I look even better wearing your tighty underoos," I said with a laugh as I reached back and lifted up a corner of his shirt so he could see.
He shook his head and sighed.
"I can't believe you found those. My boxers made me chafe at work so I thought I'd try…"
"Don't worry," I interrupted him. "I'll make sure everyone knows you wear big boy undies now."
I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck. He bent down and gave me a sweet kiss, sucking my top lip into his mouth and making my toes curl.
“Where are my clothes?” I asked between kisses.
“Your shirt is in the garbage. You threw it there last night when we got here and you saw the blood all over it. You said you couldn’t possibly ever wear something again that reminded you of how you almost died in a horrific accident. I took your jeans from you before you did the same to them. They’re in the dryer right now.”
I shook my head and sighed while Carter tightened his hold on me and placed another kiss on my lips.
"Move in with me,” he said suddenly.
His lips stayed against mine and I opened my eyes so I could see him. He stared at me so intently there was no way I misheard him.
"I love you," he continued quickly. "I love Gavin. I love waking up to both of you in this house with me. I don't want to miss seeing him tie his shoes for the first time or write his name. I don't want to wake up in the morning and not see you drooling on the pillow next to me."
I laughed and smacked his arm, the conversation immediately turning lighter.
"Besides, I
need a woman here to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen making me chicken pot pies every night," he said with a smile.
"Well, then we've obviously never met if you want me to take on that role."
We stood there in the kitchen, wrapped in each other's arms with Carter’s junior jockey's creeping up my ass, and I realized I had never been happier.
"Yes," I told him.
His eyebrows went up and his face lit up with a huge smile.
"Yes? Really?" he asked. “I thought for sure I’d have to resort to bribery or extortion.”
I nodded my head and laughed. "Yes! We will move in with you so I can monitor the stupid shit you say and punch you in the kidney when you suggest I should be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen again."
***
A few hours later, Liz and I were just finishing our paperwork at her kitchen table. Jim and Carter were sitting at the table with us carrying on their own conversation while Gavin and Jim's eight-year-old little cousin Melissa played.
Gavin was currently in the living room watching a movie, but Melissa had been running through the kitchen at warp speed, yelling as loud as she could for the past fifteen minutes. Carter and I passed each other secret looks every so often about the conversation we had in the car on the way over here. We weren't going to discipline Gavin at all the entire time at their house. We would let Liz and Jim take over and see what they did. I had first hand experience on the type of care-givers they were since they were my best friends, so this was mostly for Carter’s benefit. I knew for a fact that Liz and Jim were wonderful with kids and Carter would be more than willing to assign them as Gavin’s back-up guardians after today.
Surprisingly, we wouldn't need to discipline Gavin anyway. He was being very well behaved. Melissa, on the other hand, reminded me yet again while some animals in the wild eat their young. She was a terror. After her twenty-seventh pass through the kitchen, waving her hands above her head and screaming, Liz finally had enough.
"Melissa! Stop it," she said sternly.
The little terror did indeed stop. For two seconds. Then she started back up and ran out of the room screaming like her ass was on fire. Her ass would be on fire soon if she didn't shut the hell up.
