Troubles and Treats (Chocolate Lovers #3)

by Tara Sivec

  My dad shakes Drew’s hand and tells him that without him, he and my mom would be broke.

  Dew asks me to drive home because all of a sudden he feels funny. I swear sometimes the sickness in our family works through osmouses. You know, where one person is sick and a mouse walks by and gets the sickness and then passes it on to someone else by sitting on their head? Halfway home Drew starts groaning and clutching his stomach.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I ask him.

  “Oh Jesus, your mom’s clam made me sick,” he mutters.

  He moans for a few more seconds until he realizes what he just said and laughs through his pain.

  “Your mom’s clam was delicious, but now, your mom’s clam is vicious!” Drew laughs before suddenly bending over and hugging his stomach.

  It’s my turn to groan now as I turn onto our street.

  “Seriously, stop saying that. It’s freaking me out,” I complain as I pull into the driveway.

  “Your mom’s clam was smooth going down, but now I’m regretting swallowing it,” he mutters with a laugh.

  “Shut up!” I warn him as I pull into the driveway.

  “At least it wasn’t bearded. I’d be choking on curly hairs right now. Your mom’s clam was as clean as a baby’s bottom!”

  As soon as I shut off the car and open the door, Drew leans out of his side and pukes all over the driveway.

  “Oh my God! Your mom’s clam was infected!” he yells and laughs in between dry heaves.

  I get the kids out of the car and walk into the house without him, happy to just let him puke alone in the driveway.

  Chapter 25 – Drop and Give Me Fifty

  “It’s time to turn you boys into men,” my dad states, standing in front of the fireplace with his arms crossed in front of him. He gives Carter, Jim, and I each a stern look.

  “Hey, I’m man enough,” Carter complains while Jim nods in agreement.

  “Yeah, me too. It’s fuck face here who needs work,” Jim says, pointing in my direction.

  “Fuck you,” I complain, punching Jim in the shoulder.

  “GET IN THE KITCHEN AND MAKE ME A CHICKEN POT PIE, BITCH!” Jim yells at me.

  “Seriously, fuck off!”

  “Hey, I’m just getting you prepared for this challenge and getting your wife back,” Jim explains with a shrug.

  Carter had called me last weekend once we were finally un-grounded and were allowed talk to each other again. Claire spilled the beans to him about how Jenny has been feeling lately and Carter wanted to give me a head’s up. Of course, Claire swore him to secrecy and told him she’d never give him another blow job again if he told me, so Carter obviously threatened my life if I said anything to Jenny about it.

  I spent all week trying to be a better husband, but I had no idea what the fuck I was doing or how to be better since I thought I was pretty fucking awesome to begin with. I made sure to remember to put the toilet seat down and the cap back on the toothpaste and when Jenny never commented on it, I brought it up to her and asked if it made her happy. She told me I was an idiot and walk out of the room.

  That led to me calling my dad and asking him for help.

  I had told Jenny I was helping my dad put together a bookcase and we all met at Liz and Jim’s house while she was out grocery shopping with the kids. Jim had said she was taking the girls over to have lunch with her parents after, so we should have plenty of time to get this done without anyone knowing about it.

  “Alright boys, listen up. There are three rules to live by when you’re married. Number one, don’t piss off your wife. Number two, don’t piss off your wife, and number three…”

  He holds out his hands, palms up, indicating for us to finish.

  “Never piss off your wife,” the three of us say in unison.

  “Wonderful, The Three Stooges can be taught,” my dad says.

  “Heeeeey!” Jim complains.

  “QUICK! Tell me what you do when your wife comes home from work with a box of tampons in her hands and starts complaining that the house is a mess,” my dad fires at Jim.

  “Uh, um…fuck! Uh, tell her she looks pretty?” Jim stammers quickly.

  “WRONG! You tell her to go take a nap so you can clean the house!” my dad answers.

  “Fuck!” Jim grumbles.

  “Stand up, soldiers!” my dad yells.

  We all get up from the couch quickly as he comes over and pushes the coffee table out from in front of us.

  “DROP AND GIVE ME FIFTY YOU SNOT-NOSED MOTHER FUCKERS!”

  We drop to the ground and start our push-ups, each of us grunting and panting.

  “I DON’T HEAR YOU COUNTING, ASSHOLES!”

  “Son of a bitch! How is this going to help us?” Carter whispers in between counting while he breathes heavily.

  “It’s going to teach you pussies some respect,” my dad says suddenly, squatting down and putting his face right into Carter’s.

  “Your dad scares the fuck out of me,” Carter mutters as quietly as possible as my dad gets up and walks back over to the fireplace.

  We finish our push-ups and groan at the pain in our arms and backs as we get up from the floor.

  We watch as my dad turns around and bends down to unzip a duffel bag that’s on the floor next to the fireplace.

  He stands up and turns around to face us, holding three baby dolls in his arms.

  “Time for baby duty, fuckers. Let’s see what you’re made of,” he tells us, handing us each one of the dolls.

  Jim holds his by the hair, I hold mine by the foot, and Carter cradles his in his arms, swaying gently back and forth.

  “Jim, Drew, right now your babies would be DEAD! You are holding a life in your arms and you just killed it. A man and his baby are a powerful force that can devastate small countries,” my dad lectures.

  “Don’t you mean a man and his gun? A baby can’t really devastate a small country,” Jim tells him.

  “Have you ever been in a room with a baby who is projectile vomiting, screaming his fool head off, and diarrhea is exploding out of his ass so much you think he has a fire hose shoved up there spraying shit instead of water? Babies are the Napalm of western civilization!”

  My dad pulls a stop watch out of the pocket of his pants holds it in front of him with his thumb hovering over the start button.

  “ON YOUR MARK!” he shouts.

  “Wait! What the fuck are we doing?” I ask frantically, putting the baby up on my shoulder as I pat its back.

  “You are changing diapers, limp dicks! GET SET!”

  Carter gets into ready position, crouching low to the ground, his doll shoved into the back of his t-shirt with the head sticking out of the top and its eyes staring right at me.

  “Son of a bitch! Where are the diapers?!” Jim shouts, tucking the doll under one arm like a football.

  “This is your house, asshole! Shouldn’t you know that?” I ask him, sticking the doll’s feet down the front of my pants so its limp body falls forward and it’s head is facing my crotch.

  “Molly doesn’t wear diapers anymore! We don’t have any fucking diapers!” he shouts back at me.

  “This is real life, soldiers! Sometimes you don’t know where diapers and wipes are and you have to make do, especially if you’re in the middle of the desert and your baby just shit its brains out!

  “When the fuck would that ever happen?” I ask in confusion.

  GO!” he shouts, clicking the stop watch.

  Carter takes off like a bat out of hell and runs to the front door, throwing it open and racing outside. He has the right idea - he’s getting the fuck out of dodge.

  Jim and I look at each other in confusion and both take off at the same time, slamming into one another, forcing Jim’s doll out of his arms. It lands on the floor on its head and we both pause and look over at my dad.

  He just stands there shaking his head in disappointment.

  Jim scoops up the doll and clutches it to his chest, giving me the finger
before taking off up the stairs.

  My dad turns the stop watch around so I can see, and I realize I’ve wasted a shit ton of time while Jim has probably already found a diaper and Carter is most likely already three miles down the road and has chucked his doll into a ditch somewhere.

  I turn and run into the kitchen, the doll’s head bobbing up and down and smacking into my dick. If this wasn’t a serious situation, I would be laughing my ass off right now.

  Oh fuck it.

  I stop when I reach the kitchen and lift the doll’s head up by its hair. “Was that good for you, baby? You need to work on your technique. It’s never hot to just smack your face into a guy’s junk,” I say with a laugh.

  I hear a throat clear and turn around to see my dad standing in the kitchen doorway with his hands on his hips, shaking his head at me.

  Twenty minutes later, Jim and I are standing in the living room in front of the couch, holding our dolls. Mine has half of its hair singed off (don’t ask), a missing arm with a screwdriver shoved into its body for a fake arm (seriously, don’t ask), and a place mat tied around its ass for a diaper.

  Jim’s doll doesn’t look any better. He’s holding the body in one hand and the head in the other, with one of its legs tucked under his arm. It used to have a pink pair of footy pajamas on, but now it’s just wearing a pair of Jim’s tighty whities, held in place with a couple of Liz’s giant hair clips.

  My dad notes our times on a pad of paper sitting on the coffee table and hits the stop button.

  “This is just a sad, sad display of skills gentlemen,” he complains.

  “Wait, where’s Carter? You can’t stop the time yet, that asshole hasn’t even made it back from wherever the hell he went,” Jim complains.

  “Carter has been back here for ten minutes. He’s in the bathroom fixing his baby’s hair that got a little windblown outside.”

  At that moment, we hear the toilet flush and the bathroom door open and Carter walks out into the living room holding his baby on his hip. Her hair is in two French braids, she’s wearing a different outfit than the one she came in, and has a diaper perfectly attached to her ass.

  “What. The. Fuck?” I ask him as he walks over to stand in between Jim and I, looking at each of our babies in horror.

  He quickly covers his doll’s ear with one hand and presses her other ear against his chest.

  “Drew! Language!” he scolds in a loud whisper.

  “Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me. He totally cheated! You called your wife, didn’t you? Did Claire meet you outside or something?” I complain.

  “Of course not. I am just better equipped to deal with a baby, obviously,” he replies, bouncing gently and patting the doll’s back.

  “Alright, since you two obviously failed that test, you need a remedial course,” my dad says to Jim and me. “Carter, I’m going to need your help.”

  ~

  “No, no, no. You’re doing it all wrong. You need to support his head more. My God, it’s like you’ve never had kids before,” Carter scolds as he repositions my hands and angles the bottle up higher.

  “This is not the key to fixing my marriage OR my sex life. You guys all realize this, right?”

  My dad walks over to check on things and smacks me upside the head.

  “Wrong! A happy wife is a happy life. You learn how to do your share around the house and you will get laid regularly. Just ask your mother.”

  I groan and dry heave, the bottle slipping out and milk squirting all over the front of me. “Dad, gross. Do NOT talk about you and Mom. Ever.”

  Carter grabs my hands and puts the bottle back where it was.

  “You need to rock and bounce a little. It helps them digest the milk easier so they don’t have as much gas. And make sure they don’t keep sucking after the milk is gone. They’ll just be getting air then, and it will cause a tummy ache,” Carter says, putting his arm around my shoulder and forcing me to sway slowly with him on the couch.

  “Your mother has no complaints in the bedroom OR around the house. I keep her very sexually satisfied, and I always got up with you in the middle of the night,” my dad says while I grimace at his words.

  “Wait, are you seriously trying to tell me that if I just get up with Billy in the middle of the night, everything will be restored to its rightful order?” I question.

  “You stopped swaying, concentrate and keep swaying or the baby will cry. You don’t want the baby to cry if you’re doing a nighttime feeding or the whole house will wake up,” Carter reminds me, pushing against me again to get me to sway.

  “I’m saying that if you put yourself in your wife’s shoes once in a while, it will be easy to see what she needs. She needs a night of sleep, she needs help around the house, she needs your love and support, and the proof that you WANT to help her with these things. A wife that isn’t getting what she needs is never going to want to give you what YOU need,” Dad tells me.

  “I need kinky sex,” I tell him plainly.

  “Then rock that baby like you mean it!” he yells at me.

  And that’s how Liz found us fifteen minutes later when she came home early from her parent’s house. Carter and I swaying back and forth on the couch with Jim spread out on my lap, drinking out of the bottle I was feeding him.

  Chapter 26 – The Newlywed Game

  Drew and Jackson are up in our bedroom, and I can hear their laughter from the living room where I pace anxiously for everyone to arrive. Jackson had complimented Drew on his shirt for the night: a picture of that Monopoly guy holding a pile of money in his arms that says, “I like big bucks and I cannot lie.” Drew had taken him upstairs to show him the rest of his shirt collection.

  When I had told Drew about the game night and what we were going to play, he got really excited and immediately called Jackson and asked him to be our “host” for the evening.

  I want to be as thrilled as he is for tonight but my stomach is tied in knots. All I can think about is someone asking him a really important question and him getting it wrong. I had thought about canceling tonight a bunch of times, but I don’t want to ruin everyone’s night. They are all looking forward to this. I should be too, really. The kids are both spending the night with Drew’s parents, and everyone else has managed to get sitters as well. We don’t have to worry about bedtimes or cranky kids or anything being lit on fire. We are free to do whatever we want, for however long we wanted to.

  The doorbell rings just as I hear Drew and Jackson coming back down the stairs. I run to the door and fling it open to see all four of our friends standing there, each with a bottle of liquor in their hands.

  “We come baring gifts,” Carter says with a laugh as I hold the door open for them.

  “I just want to let everyone know that Liz and I are so totally going to win this thing. We have to win this thing. It’s a matter of life and death,” Jim says seriously as he sets his bottle of whiskey down on the coffee table in the living room where I’ve set out some snacks and a bunch of glasses.

  “There’s no way you’re winning this. Claire and I have been quizzing each other since this morning. We’ve got this in the bag,” Carter argues with Jim, setting his bottle of vodka next to the whiskey.

  Jim turns and puts his hands on Carter’s shoulders and looks him in the eye.

  “For the love of God, man, you have to let us win this,” Jim pleads.

  “Why the hell is he being so dramatic,” Claire asks Liz softly.

  Liz lets out a huge sigh as she hands me her bottle of wine.

  “I made the mistake of telling him that if we win, I’ll give him anal. I was kind of joking at the time because he doesn’t want to play the game, and I was trying to get him in the mood for it. I may have gone a little overboard,” she explains as we watch Jim run over to Drew and get down on his knees in front of him.

  “Drew, please, listen to reason. I’m begging you, don’t let us lose. Oh God, I can’t lose!” he wails.

  “Hey, asshol
e, while you’re down there…” Drew says with a laugh.

  Jim clenches his fist and punches him right in the nuts and Drew goes down on his knees, holding his crotch.

  “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Jackson and I will be your host for this evening,” Jackson says with a grin while I grab Drew’s arm and help him stand up.

  “Um, Jackson, everyone already knows who you are. Remember?” I whisper to him.

  “Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain,” Claire says with a laugh as she takes a sip of the wine she's poured for herself.

  “I’m not behind a curtain. Is this part of the game?” I ask in confusion.

  “Anyway, I’m going to start by taking the ladies into another room and asking them a series of questions. They will write their answers on these pieces of poster board,” Jackson explains, holding up a stack of white, heavy duty cardboard and a couple of black markers. “Then I’ll do the same with the guys. Everyone will keep their answers in a stack, face down on their laps. We’ll do ladies first, so the women will be answering the questions for the first round. Each couple will get five points for each correct answer. The couple with the most points at the end of the game will be crowned The Best Couple in all the Land.”

  This seems complicated and Jim is so excited he’s bouncing up and down in his chair. He wants to win this as bad as I do. I can’t even bribe Drew with anal like Liz did. That ship sailed a long time ago.

  “Okay, ladies. Grab your glasses and follow me. Boys, start getting liquored up so you have a fighting chance,” Jackson says as he turns and heads into the kitchen.

  “Hey, sweetie, do you want a nipple for that drink?” Liz asks Jim with a secret smile.

  “You were never to speak of that again!” he complains, throwing his hands up in the air.

  “What is he talking about?” Claire asks Liz as they make their way to the kitchen.

  “If he pisses me off tonight, I’ll let you know,” she tells Liz, throwing Jim a warning look over his shoulder.

  “Fuck, even if we win I’m not getting anal. This sucks,” Jim complains, pouring himself a healthy glass of whiskey.