Troubles and Treats (Chocolate Lovers #3)

by Tara Sivec

  “It’s not funny when she does it in a McDonald’s bathroom that is full of people,” Jenny says as she leaves the kitchen and heads down the hall to help Veronica.

  Jackson and I are left alone together in the kitchen with Billy, and I’m having a hard time looking him in the eye.

  “I take it you didn’t know I was gay,” Jackson finally says.

  “No, but it’s all good, man. I don’t judge.”

  Unless you spoop in my toilet. Then I will judge the mother fucking spoop out of you.

  “Okay, good. Because I really like this guy, and I really like you and Jenny,” he tells me.

  And you really like to spoop.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I got something else for you,” he says as he jogs over to the front door and picks up a bag I hadn’t even seen him put there.

  He walks back over and hands me the bag. I dig inside and pull out a shirt that says: I like blow jobs, anal, and shopping. Not particularly in that order.

  Oh man. Here it comes. I’m going to cry.

  I throw the shirt on the kitchen counter, grab Jackson, and give him a hug.

  “You’re such a good guy. I hope this Dave dude treats you right, and if he doesn’t, I’ll kick his ass. And I don’t care if you want to spoop in my toilet every single day, man. My toilet is your toilet; your spoop is my spoop. I’m on this train, but just so you know, I don’t want to be the caboose,” I tell him as I release him from the hug.

  I have found a new best friend, and I don’t care if he is the meat in a triple decker man sandwich. He makes me trophy cases and buys me non-ass-raping garden gnomes and t-shirts.

  As I throw my new shirt on over top of the one I was wearing, Jenny and Veronica emerge from down the hallway.

  “Mommy raped my spoop!” Veronica shouts as she runs into the living room.

  Chapter 22 – I Wanna Strawberry Laid!

  “Wait a minute, so you still haven’t talked to Drew?” Claire asks as we walk over to a rack of clearance clothes and pick through them.

  While the guys had gone shopping for shoes, we decided to have a girl’s day and go to the mall. Liz’s two older girls are playing at a friend’s house today so she just has Molly with her. After a lot of protesting from him, Claire had brought Gavin and Sophia was with Carter’s parents. I have Veronica and Billy with me, so I'm pushing them in the double stroller.

  “No, I haven’t talked to Drew yet. I tried like a million times during Veronica’s soccer game but he kept cutting me off. It’s like he knew I wanted to talk about something serious and wasn’t going for it,” I explain as I pulled a shirt off of the rack and hold it up to me.

  “Gavin, get up off of the floor,” Claire scolds.

  I turn around where she’s looking and notice Gavin has removed an entire pile of folded sweaters from one of the tables and is currently using them as a pillow while he sprawls out on his stomach on the floor.

  “Uuugghhhh, this is horseshit!” Gavin complains loudly.

  “Horseshit!” Veronica and Molly shout at the same time before giggling.

  “Gavin!” Claire yells angrily while Gavin lets out another groan and finally pulls himself up from the ground.

  “Okay, so he didn’t want to talk at the soccer game, what about after?” Liz asks as she reaches in her purse for Molly’s sippy cup and hands it to her.

  “He invited Jackson over and the two of them were down in the basement looking at all of Drew’s old football trophies for like five hours. And then he left for work and you know how that goes.”

  Seeing as how all of our husbands work for the same automotive plant and were on the night shift together, the girls are well aware of how hard it can be to have any kind of important conversation with them during the week unless you want to do it by phone, which I definitely do not. This is something that needs to be done in person. I finally know what I want and need from him, and I’m pretty sure I have the confidence to actually tell him without screwing it up. But only seeing him for about ten minutes when I get home from work and then he leaves, makes it a little difficult.

  “I’m still surprised he warmed up to Jackson so fast and actually went shopping with them today. I thought he would want to kill him when he found out what was going on with you two,” Claire states as she points to the pile of sweaters still on the floor without turning or saying a word when Gavin walks over to us.

  “Oh my GOSH! This is the worst day EVER!” Gavin complains before stomping dramatically back to the sweaters to pick them up.

  “There wasn’t anything going on with us! Don’t say it like that,” I complain as I shake my head, “No,” when Liz holds up an orange tank top and gives me a questioning look.

  “The guy is coming over to your house practically every day and spending time with you and the kids, helping you out with laundry, the dishes, and rearranging furniture. He’s doing all of the things a husband should but without the extra benefits.”

  I stare at her a minute wondering what benefits she’s talking about.

  “He only helped me move the loveseat to the other side of the living room that one time. And he has a real job so he already gets health benefits. Why would I give him benefits for helping me out and being a good friend? That’s just weird,” I tell her as I pull another shirt from the rack and check the size.

  “Sex, Jenny! She’s talking about sex!” Liz says a little too loudly.

  “SEX! I WANT SEX!” Veronica yells from the stroller.

  “No, no, no. Don’t say that, honey. It’s bad,” I tell her.

  “You really haven’t gotten any in a while if you’re saying it’s bad,” Liz laughs from the other side of the clothing rack.

  “Oh shut up. We had sex on our date night. Well, kind of. Okay, not really,” I say with an embarrassed shrug.

  “What do you mean, ‘not really?' How do you ‘not really, kind of’ have sex?” Claire asks in confusion.

  “Well, it started off really hot and awesome. We were in the car in the driveway and going at it. But then he started talking all kinky, and I don’t know, it felt weird. Like, we’re older now and parents of two kids and maybe we shouldn’t be doing it like that anymore. I told him to just do it normally and without the crazy stuff and it didn’t go over so well.”

  Liz and Claire stand there staring at me, and I notice Gavin picking up a pair of lacy thongs from one of the tables and putting them on his head like a mask.

  “You told Drew to stop being kinky in the middle of sex?” Claire asks in shock.

  “Please, don’t ask her anymore questions about that. Words like ‘dirty whore’ and ‘slut’ will be thrown around and my brain can’t take that memory again,” Liz says with a dramatic shiver.

  “But, I mean…you guys are the epitome of kinky. That’s like telling me I shouldn’t bake anymore. It’s unnatural.”

  Is that true? I mean, I couldn’t imagine Claire never baking again. It’s her life and part of who she is. Is kinky sex part of who Drew and I are? If we don’t have it, are we not being who we really are?

  “Tell me this, did it feel normal to you trying to have plain, old regular sex? Did it make you happy?” Claire asks.

  “No, not at all. It made me sad. But it just felt like it was something I should do and ever since then, Drew hasn’t even tried to have sex with me again. I think I broke his penis,” I whisper.

  “No one thinks my jokes are funny,” Gavin complains, walking over to us with the red, lacy thongs still on his head, the front of the thongs covering his eyes and nose.

  “Uhhhhh, why is that on your head?” Claire asks, pulling her cell phone out of her purse and trying to stifle her laugh.

  “It’s my mask. It’s my joke telling mask and no one thinks I’m funny,” he complains again.

  “Oh, I think you’re HILARIOUS!” Liz says, not even bothering to hide her laughter. “Tell me your joke.”

  Gavin turns to face her. “Knock, knock.”

  “Who’s there?” Liz asks,
giggling with each word.

  I hear Claire’s camera phone click next to me as she takes a picture.

  “Y,” Gavin states.

  “Y who?”

  “Y YOU SUCK!” Gavin shouts, laughing at his own joke.

  “Yeah, your joke – not funny. But you wearing women’s underwear on your head? Priceless. Make sure you send that picture to me. It’s going on my fridge,” Liz tells Claire.

  “You guys are all a bunch of donkey crap bags,” Gavin complains as he walks away from our laughter.

  “Okay, anyway, back to our discussion. Why would you think you broke Drew’s penis? Just because you told him you didn’t want to have wild and crazy sex?” Claire asks.

  “Well, he was kind of inside me when I said it. And it made him soft. Like, really quickly. It felt like I shoved a balloon inside me and then popped it with a pin. That can’t be good.”

  “This analogy of his penis and your vagina is really not something I need to be picturing in my head right now,” Liz complains.

  “Eeew, Drew's penis and my vagina do NOT have analogy. That’s just gross. I have never had a green, slimy vagina, and do you think I would honestly let Drew’s penis anywhere near my cooter if it looked like that?” I complain.

  “Oh for the love of God, focus, Jenny!” Claire says as we make our way up to the cashier. “Making a guy go soft doesn’t break his penis. You shocked the horny right out of him. Which as far as I know, is a first for Drew. He’s probably freaked out and thinks you’ve changed and doesn’t know how to deal with it. That’s why he hasn’t tried to initiate anything since then.”

  I sigh as I pile my merchandise onto the counter.

  Is Claire right? Does Drew think I’ve changed and doesn’t know how to act around me anymore?

  “I feel like we’ve grown so far apart and I hate it. It’s like we don’t even know each other. It’s the worse feeling in the world.”

  Claire pats my back as she finishes placing her items on the counter next to mine.

  “You guys absolutely still know each other. Even though it doesn’t feel like it, he’s still your best friend and the one person who knows everything about you. It’s a rough patch. Couples have them and if they are strong enough, they work through them. You guys are strong enough. You just have to get on the same page.”

  Gavin bounces past us with an umbrella in one hand, swinging it through the air and smacking it into hanging racks of clothes, knocking some to the ground. Now he has a blue bra strapped to the top of his head like the guys in the movie ‘Weird Science’.

  “Oh my God, I just had the best idea ever!” Liz shouts as she yanks the umbrella out of Gavin’s hand and pulls the bra off of his head while Gavin lets out a groan of protest.

  “Seriously, dude. I’m saving your life right now. Your mom already has a picture of you with women’s underwear on your head. Do you really want to try and get laid in high school when there’s a picture of you with a bra on your head too? I just saved your social life. Tell Auntie Liz thank you,” she tells him as she tosses the bra onto a table and leans the umbrella against another.

  “I know what getting laid means. Dad told me and it’s gross. I’m never doing that,” Gavin complains.

  “Wait, let me get my video camera out,” Claire states as she digs in her purse again for her cell phone. “Say that again, slowly.”

  “Mommy, I wanna laid!” Veronica shouts from the stroller.

  “Me too! I wanna laid! I wanna strawberry laid!” Molly screams in delight.

  “This is disturbing, and yet funny at the same time,” Liz states. “Anyway, back to my fantastic idea!”

  Claire and I finish paying our bills and attempt to quiet the girls screaming about wanting laid, using bribery of candy as a last resort.

  “Okay, what’s this great idea,” Claire asks as we make our way out of the store.

  “Well, you feel like you and Drew have grown apart and don’t really know each other anymore, correct?” she asks me.

  “Yeah,” I say sadly.

  “Do you guys remember that old game show 'The Newlywed Game' from like the seventies?”

  Claire nods and gets a huge smile on her face. “Oh my gosh, Liz, you are a genius! That is the best idea ever.”

  I look at them questioningly as we walk towards the food court.

  “I don’t understand. We’re not newlyweds. How is this going to help us? Do we have to get married again or something? I don’t know if I’ll be able to fit into my wedding outfit again if that’s the case.”

  “Your wedding outfit was a white tube top, a pair of white boy shorts and white thigh-high stockings. I’m pretty sure anyone could fit into your wedding outfit,” Liz states as we find a table and try to figure out what the kids want for lunch. “No, there is no remarrying that needs to happen. 'The Newlywed Game' is answering questions about yourself and seeing if your partner gets them right. It’s a great way to see how compatible two people are.”

  This sounds scary. Drew and I always used to know each other well but not lately. What if we completely blow this game and it only makes things worse between us?

  “I don’t know guys. What if he gets every single question wrong? That’s just going to depress me more,” I tell them.

  “Trust me, this will work. You will see once and for all that you and Drew have not grown apart as much as you think,” Liz tells me.

  “This is going to be so fun! I’m officially scheduling a game night for two weeks from now,” Claire announces.

  “Clear your schedules and get sitters. This is an ‘adult only’ night,” Liz adds.

  We get lunch for ourselves and the kids and discuss how the game will work while we eat. I don’t know whether I’m nervous or excited. I just hope this whole thing doesn’t throw up in my face.

  Chapter 23 – Zombie Apocalypse

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Jim states nervously.

  “Don’t be a pussy. This is the best idea ever. If the girls can do it and live through it, so can we. Do you really want your wife to go around telling people she did this before you? Get your balls out of her purse and man up,” I tell Jim.

  Liz is at a meeting with her buyer and left Jim in charge of the store for a few hours before we have to be at work. Not a very wise decision on her part considering the last time she left Jim alone at the store, we rearranged her front window display with naked female mannequins having an orgy. So really, whatever happens here this evening is Liz’s fault for trusting Jim to behave.

  Carter had mentioned the other night how he’s never been maced and we found out that none of us had. It’s embarrassing that all of our wives have been through something horrific like that and we haven’t. So, I devised a plan. An evil, genius plan.

  “Alright, there’s no one back in the porn room. Who’s going to do the honors?” Carter asks as he emerges from the hallway next to the counter.

  Two years ago, Liz installed a porno room in her store. The shelves are lined with every porno movie known to man. To avoid people stealing them and to stop any embarrassment of some poor, lonely librarian having to carry the movie box out in front of other people so everyone in the store knows she likes midget donkey sex, the DVD cases are empty and each one is assigned a three-digit number. If anyone wants to buy one, they just have to come up to the front counter and tell the cashier what number they want. Instead of saying, “I’d like to buy ‘Dickman and Throbbinhood’,” they can just say, “Could I get number four-twenty-three, please?”

  Since neither Carter nor Jim want to actually get maced in the face, we decide to spray some mace in the small porno room where it will be easily contained. Then, we can just walk in there and see how we’re affected. We never really have to tell anyone how we were maced; we can just tell people from now on that we have “experience” with being maced. It’s kind of perfect if I do say so myself.

  It’s sad, really, that I can’t find a good macing shirt for the occasion. Instea
d, I had to settle for my backup for emergency situations: I’m full of awesome.

  “Shouldn’t we wait until the store closes?” Jim asks, looking nervously at the door.

  “Your wife will be back before the store closes. We need to do this shit now,” I tell him, grabbing the industrial size can of mace from under the counter. “The girls were out of commission for what, twenty minutes or so? And they were sprayed directly in the eyes. Since we’re just going to be standing in a room where it’s lingering in the air, we’re probably only going to get a small percentage of what they got. We’ll be fine. Even if a customer does come in, they'll have no idea what’s going on.”

  Jim taps his fingers on the counter, looks over at the door again, and then down at his watch. “Okay, fine. Let’s hurry up and get this over with in case Liz comes back early.”

  Carter and I let out a victory yell, and I hand him the can to let him do the spraying.

  “Go ahead man, just open the door a crack, spray as much as you can, and shut it really quickly,” I explain.

  Carter takes the can, gives me a salute, and turns and jogs down the hallway.

  As soon as he leaves, the bell above the door rings and Jim and I turn around and see three women walk in the door.

  “Shit, customers. What the fuck do we do?” Jim whispers frantically.

  “Relax. It’s contained in the back room. We just wait on them like normal and then go back there. If the mace all faded away, Carter can just spray it again,” I tell him.

  The three women are off in a far corner giggling over something on one of the shelves so I wander over to where they are and see if they need any assistance.

  “Hello there, ladies. What can I help you with this evening?”

  They all start giggling again and each one turns bright red when they try and look me in the eyes.

  “Um, well, my friend Jamie here has never been to a sex toy store before. So, what would you recommend for her first toy?” one of the women asks.

  Normally, I enjoy helping out the customers in Liz’s store. I’m kind of a genius when it comes to all of the things in here but as soon as I start to impart my wisdom on them, my nose starts to tickle and I feel a sneeze coming on.