by Tara Sivec
Jim kicked balloons out of the way, making a path as he walked towards me. He opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted by Drew, who came running in from Claire’s side of the store.
“This is the best day EVER!” Drew shouted, holding the largest balloon I had ever seen in his hands.
Jim looked at me questioningly.
“Sorry, this was kind of his idea, so I told him he could help,” I explained.
I watched as Drew raced back and forth among the balloons like a two-year old on crack. “Tell him the best part! TELL HIM THE BEST PART!”
I grabbed my husband’s hands and squeezed them. “I have a surprise for you. Drew thought it should be something fun. So, if you want to know what your surprise is, you’ll need to pop the balloons until you find the one it’s hidden in.”
I managed to slide the positive pregnancy test into one of the balloons before we blew it up and it was somewhere in this room, although I’d lost track of it ever since Drew came barreling in here.
“OH, MY GOD! POP THEM! POP THEM!” Drew shouted as he swatted at balloons that floated up and down from the ceiling.
Before I could question how much caffeine Drew had ingested to make him so excitable, Claire, Carter and Jenny stepped in from Claire’s side of the store and made their way over to the counter where the cash register was.
“Don’t mind us,” Claire announced. “We’re just here to huff some helium.”
Jenny immediately grabbed a ribbon attached to a balloon on the ceiling, yanked it towards her and went to work untying it while Drew finally stopped running to stand in front of Jim. He held the giant balloon he’d been racing around with out to him. “Please, pop this one first.”
Jim laughed before taking the balloon from Drew’s hand.
“Mmmmmm yeah, pop that balloon,” Drew moaned as Jim started squeezing it.
Jim paused and looked up at him. “Why are you moaning?”
Drew didn’t answer. His eyes glazed over as Jim squeezed harder and when the balloon popped, I swear to God his legs almost gave out and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
Since Jim didn’t find the pregnancy test in that balloon, he went to work walking around the store, stomping on balloons as he went. I couldn’t help but notice that Drew was following close behind Jim. Every time he popped another balloon, Drew’s voice got deeper and more sexual as he cheered him on and it really started to creep me the fuck out. I couldn’t even complain to my friends, though, because they were all sucking helium and cracking each other up.
“We represent, the Lollypop Guild, the Lollypop Guild, the Lollypop Guild!” Carter sang in a squeaky, high-pitched voice. Everyone laughed while Drew got right up by my ear.
“Tell Jim he should pop that red one next. It’s so round and full and when it pops it’s going to make this great noise and the smell of rubber will fill the air…” he trailed off and his entire body shuddered.
“What in the actual fuck is happening with you right now?”
Drew ignored me, bending down to grab a red balloon. He rubbed it over his chest and sighed before handing it to Jim.
“I am not touching that thing now that you fondled it,” Jim told him.
His eyes widened. “Can I pop it? Please, please, please, can I, can I, can I?!”
“You can pop every fucking balloon in here if it means you’ll stop looking like you want to have sex with the damn things,” Jim told him in disgust as Drew hummed while he squeezed the balloon.
“Drew is a Looner,” Jenny yelled over to me in a helium-filled voice.
“What the hell is a Looner?” Claire asked in the same munchkin-like, helium tone.
“A Looner is a very complex individual who revels in the popping of balloons,” Carter informed us, sounding like a cast-off from Wizard of Oz.
When everyone looked at him funny, he just shrugged. “I Googled it.”
“Ha! Now I know why Drew wanted to fill this place with balloons,” Claire announced before taking another hit of helium. “Drew is a balloon fucker!”
Now, one would think that hearing the words “balloon fucker” coming from the mouth of my best friend who sounded like she was from Munchkin Land would have been hilarious. However, Drew was now on all fours down by my feet, dry humping a balloon.
“OH, MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” I screamed at him.
“I’m only doing what comes naturally! My balloon fetish is a form of sexual imprinting! YOU CAN’T STOP ME FROM SEXUALLY IMPRINTING ON THIS GREEN BALLOON!” Drew shouted as he thrust roughly against the balloon until it popped.
As soon as it exploded, I heard the click-click-click of a plastic pregnancy test bouncing across the floor.
“WOOOHOOO! You found the balloon with the surprise in it! Pick it up and show it to Jim!” Carter squeaked with his fists pumping in the air.
“If you think I am going to touch something that Drew just humped out of a balloon, you are sadly mistaken,” I told him.
“Whew, that was exhausting. I think I need a nap,” Drew announced, grabbing onto an orange balloon and sticking it under his head like a pillow.
Jim ran across the room, shoving balloons aside until he found the test on the floor a few feet away. He picked it up, stared at it in awe for a few minutes before walking back to me.
“Liz, are you serious?! Are you—”
“WE WELCOME YOU TO MUNCHKIN LAND!” Jenny sang loudly, dissolving in a fit of giggles as she quickly grabbed another balloon from the ceiling while Claire and Carter took a big huff of the balloons in each of their hands.
I sighed, turning back to Jim to finally tell him out loud what he already knew was true. “I love you. We’re going to have a—”
“Tra la la la la la la la la la la la!” Carter and Claire squeaked at the top of their tinny voices.
“When you guys are finished, can I spend some time alone here in the shop?” Drew suddenly questioned.
“Ashtray! You little bitch ass motherfucker! Come over here and give your grandma a hug!” Carter shouted in his helium voice, because quoting Don’t Be a Menace while huffing helium is always a fine idea.
“Bitch ass motherfucker!” Jenny repeated.
“I’VE HAD IT WITH THESE MOTHERFUCKING SNAKES ON THIS MOTHERFUCKING PLANE!” Claire shouted.
Jesus Christ, it sounded like Munchkins gone wild in this place.
“How about we just cut to the chase?” I asked Jim, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “We’re going to have a baby. As soon as he or she is born, we are getting as far away from these idiots as possible.”
Jim wrapped his arms around me and we stared at our friends who were now trading Samuel L. Jackson quotes back and forth in between sucking on the balloons.
“Awwww, come on, our friends are fun. Just think about how interesting your baby shower will be. We can have Drew do balloon animals for the kids,” Jim laughed.
“Except that would turn into Drew actually DOING balloon animals,” I reminded him.
“Well, one thing’s for certain—our life will never be boring with these people in it,” Jim told me.
As Carter wrapped his arms around Claire and whispered high-pitched sexual innuendos in her ear, Jenny ran over to Drew and flopped down on the floor next to him and they both started rubbing balloons all over themselves.
“You’re right, life will never be boring with any of them,” I agreed.
MY FAMILY AND I are pretty lucky in that we’ve never had to deal with losing someone close to us. My kids still have all four grandparents and our extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins are alive and kicking. It’s probably hard to believe, but we’ve only attended one funeral. Ever. It was for one of our neighbors a few years ago. She was a nasty old woman who screamed at my kids if they so much as looked at her yard when they walked by and she had a habit of stealing people’s Christmas decorations if she thought they were too gaudy. We only went to the funeral for her husband, who was the exact opposite of the
old bat. Also, we were hoping our blinking “Santa Stops Here” sign might be perched in front of the casket so we could take it back. I loved that cute little sign.
Looking back on it now, I’m kind of glad that was our one and only experience with a funeral because we did not behave well. We tried, we really did, but it was no use.
Six years ago, when a funeral home suddenly became the best place on earth…
“I’ve got a camera on my cell phone!”
My daughter, Charlotte, and I looked up at the little boy standing next to my chair. He was around seven years old and he proudly held an old school flip phone in his hand.
I glanced around at the other mourners who filled the room in row after row of folding chairs, but no one seemed to be looking for their lost child.
“That’s a great phone,” I whispered to the boy. “You should probably go take some pictures or something.”
Jim leaned forward in his seat on the other side of Charlotte and gave me a questioning look. I just shrugged. I didn’t know who the hell this kid was, but I was pretty sure he needed to leave me alone. I had three teenage daughters who were lucky I even liked them, let alone loved them. I didn’t do well with other people’s children.
“My name is Luke. I like chocolate!” the kid announced.
“I can see that. You’ve got it smeared all over your damn face,” I replied, scrunching up my nose in disgust as he leaned his dirty face closer to me.
“You said a bad word!” he whispered.
“I’m going to keep on saying bad words if you don’t go away.”
Charlotte snorted and Jim just shook his head.
“That’s my grandma up there,” Luke said, pointing to the open casket at the front of the room. “She’s dead.”
This just made Charlotte laugh harder for some reason. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the noise and I elbowed her to shut up. I’m pretty sure this room of sad people wouldn’t be too happy to hear her laughing like a hyena.
“Okay, dude, run along now. Go take some pictures.”
I was starting to get a little uncomfortable with this kid. He was a regular Chatty Cathy and this was supposed to be a quiet time of reflection for the deceased or some shit before the priest came in and said a few words.
I was so busy trying to shush Charlotte that I didn’t notice that the stupid kid decided to listen to me. He ran along, and he definitely took some pictures. You know how those old flip phones would make noises when you took a picture like the clicking of a camera or something else equally annoying? Well, in the middle of “quiet time,” when half the room was crying softly and the other half was deep in prayer or whatever, at the front of the room, right in front of the casket was our little buddy Luke. He had his flip phone open, pointed directly at the dead body of Mrs. Lyons. I’m pretty sure we were the only people in the room who saw what he was about to do, but that all changed as soon as he hit the “take picture” button. In the quiet, somber room filled with death and sadness, the mechanical, overly cheerful voice of the flip phone said “SAY CHEEEEEEEESE!” followed by the click of the shutter releasing.
“Jesus Christ, did he just take a picture of his dead grandma?” Jim whispered.
Charlotte was laughing so hard at this point she started choking. I couldn’t believe what the fuck had just happened and for some reason, it became the funniest shit in the entire world. I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep the giggles contained, but that didn’t stop my shoulders from shaking as Charlotte and I huddled together, both of us whispering, “Say cheese!” in between our snorts of laughter.
Luke’s mother finally got her head out of her ass and came running down the center aisle, snatching the phone out of his hand as she gave us a dirty look.
“We did NOT put him up to that!” I whispered as she made her way down the aisle past us, dragging Luke behind her.
Charlotte let out a cough/snort/laugh that was so loud, the entire room was now looking at us. Our very first funeral and we were going to get kicked out of it. Everything just became funny at that point and it didn’t help that Charlotte kept whispering “say cheese” and “I wonder if I could get a five by seven of that shot?” We decided to make things easy on everyone and excused ourselves from the funeral before they asked us to leave. Really, I think that little bastard Luke should have been the one to get kicked out. He started it.
I FIND MYSELF thinking about that funeral and how my children have no idea how to deal with death and sadness or something awful happening to someone close to them. Charlotte sits across from me at the kitchen table looking miserable and I’m at a loss on how to help my child. How can I help her when I don’t even know how to help myself? She’s no longer a fifteen year old at the funeral of the mean neighbor lady. Her fiancé’s mother, the woman she herself thinks of as an aunt, is sick and it’s scary and that little asshole Luke isn’t here to diffuse the situation with inappropriate pictures of his dead grandmother. My daughter needs my help and I need to find a way to give it to her.
“What should I do, mom? Gavin is trying to act all strong and he keeps telling me he’s fine, but I know he’s not. I know he’s freaking out and I don’t know what to do,” Charlotte tells me as tears fill her eyes.
“Honey, all you can do is let him know that you’re there for him. He’s going to continue being strong and not showing any emotion in front of Claire because he doesn’t want his mom to see how much he’s hurting,” I explain. “He’s a guy. Guys don’t want anyone to know they’re scared. Look at his father. Carter has been rearranging their house and putting everything in alphabetical order. That’s his way of coping.”
Charlotte lets out a sigh and I move my chair to her side of the table, wrapping my arms around her.
“He’s my best friend, mom. I don’t want him to be scared. I just want to make everything better for him, but I can’t. I hate feeling so helpless.”
I always thought my oldest daughter and I were so different. She was always the bubbly, happy girl who made friends easily and looked at life with rose-colored glasses. Right now, I realize we’re more alike than I ever knew.
“All of this is out of everyone’s control and it sucks. Maybe he just needs you to tell him how you’re feeling and that he’s not alone. Be honest with him. Be there for him. That’s all you really can do right now.”
Guilt overwhelms me as I hold my daughter and let her cry. It’s easy for me to give her this great advice. Why isn’t it easy for me to follow it myself?
“I don’t want Aunt Claire to die,” Charlotte whispers.
My throat tightens and I squeeze my eyes closed to keep the tears from falling.
“Do you remember the first time I got my period, you guys both showed me how to put a panty-liner in my underwear?” Charlotte suddenly asks with a laugh.
We both sniffle through our laughter, remembering that day.
“Now there’s a story you could tell Gavin to lift his spirits. We were at your Aunt Claire’s house in her bedroom, sitting on the floor next to a laundry basket of clean clothes. She reached in and grabbed the first pair of underwear she could find and it was one of Gavin’s Spiderman Underoos,” I chuckle.
“Shut up, it was not!” Charlotte exclaims, pulling away to look at me.
I nod my head. “Yep, totally was. Your Aunt ripped off the paper backing of the pad and slapped it on the crotch of Spiderman tighty-whities. We decided Kotex was Spiderman’s new weapon of choice. Instead of a web shooting out of his wrist, maxi pads would fly out, rendering all of his enemies helpless.”
Charlotte and I sat at the kitchen table, reminiscing about the funniest things that have happened over the years and an idea started forming in my head. The one good thing about our group of friends is that we’re never short on laughter. Someone is always doing something stupid or inappropriate and no matter what’s happening in our lives at that point in time, laughter has always been the cure for everything.
I don’t know if I
can repair the damage that’s been done to my friendship with Claire, but I’m not going down without a fight. We have too many years and too many memories to just give up. Claire has always believed in me and I need to show her that she still can.
Nineteen years ago…
“WHERE IN THE hell is Jenny?” I asked Claire, glancing around the casino floor.
She shrugged and put another twenty into the machine in front of her. “I don’t know and I don’t care. I have found my Sex in the City machine and all is right with the world.”
When I found out Jim had a meeting for work right next to the casino in Cleveland, Claire decided we should tag along and have a “girls” weekend. We needed it. Claire was running ragged with seven-year-old Gavin and three-year-old Sophie and I was losing my mind with Charlotte, who’s also three, Ava who just turned one, and my newborn, Molly, who is six weeks old today. Jenny, being a new mom of only four weeks with her daughter, Veronica, jumped at the chance to get out of the house for a night.
We had entirely too many fucking kids and we needed a break.
We’d only been here for a few hours and we’d already lost Jenny. She had been way too excited about the prospect of free booze while she played. After six rum and cokes during one hand of Black Jack, Claire and I had walked away and pretended like we didn’t know her. Luckily, Jim’s meeting wasn’t until tomorrow morning, so we put him on babysitting duty to make sure she didn’t get kicked out of the casino. Bringing a first-time mom who hasn’t had a drink in over nine months to a place where you could drink for free as long as you were gambling probably wasn’t our brightest idea.
After a few vanilla vodka and diet cokes, I started to feel warm and fuzzy. When I felt warm and fuzzy, I spoke about things that I normally wouldn’t when I was sober. Like about how being a mom of three little girls scared the ever living shit out of me.
