Futures and Frosting

Shit, maybe it's just me she opposed to. Maybe she just doesn’t want to marry me. The thought makes me sick to my stomach. Everything about her makes me happier than I have ever been in my life. Becoming a father overnight is something I never thought I wanted but now know I can never live without. Ever since the wedding this past weekend, all I can think about is the way Claire looked standing in the middle of the dance floor holding that bouquet of flowers she had just caught.

 

There had been a sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her face that lit up the room. It made me wish that it was our wedding we were at and that it was our celebration of love. I actually reached into my pocket to pull out the ring I always carried with me and panicked when I didn’t feel it in there. It took me a minute to realize I decided right before we walked out of the house that morning to leave it at home. I had been to enough weddings with Drew to know that there would be break dancing and tuxedo jackets swung around and didn’t want to chance losing the ring. After the way she reacted when she only thought Drew and Jenny might be getting engaged at the rehearsal dinner, I was glad I’d left the ring at home. Standing there and staring at her with a wedding bouquet in her hand had almost forced me to do something she’d hate, and I'd have no control over if that ring was in my pocket.

 

Claire seems genuinely happy, aside from the past few days and the weird, off-the-wall comments she makes about marriage. Could it be that seeing her best friends get married has made her realize she’ll never have that for herself? She's watching porn in the middle of the night by herself while I'm at work. That’s either the sign of the apocalypse or I'm just not doing it for her. Jesus, maybe I need to up my game. She shouldn’t be watching porn alone unless I’m not enough for her.

 

Am I not enough for her? WHY AREN’T I ENOUGH FOR HER? Why can’t she be happy with me instead of lusting after some actor on the television? Why, God, why? It’s not like those men are real anyway. Everything about them is fake, including their six pack abs and horse cocks. And seriously, who needs that much cock? Maybe she’s watching those men wishing I could learn some of those tricks. But come on, give me a break. No one is that bendy or has that much stamina. That’s what film editing is for. She probably thinks it’s not cheating since all she’s doing is watching them on TV but God dammit, she’s cheating with her MIND.

 

Oh my Jesus. I think I just grew a vagina.

 

I have to believe that if Claire is really that unhappy with me or my sexual prowess, she'd say something. Chicks like to tell you all the time what you’re doing wrong, don’t they? Why would Claire be any different? I’m acting like a giant * over this. We’re fine, she’s fine, I love her more than anything in the world, and I WILL make this proposal happen. Enough with the chicken shit stuff.

 

I try calling Claire on the way out of work to see if she's still at the shop but her phone goes straight to voicemail. When I drive through town I see that her car is still parked out in front of the building, so I pull around back and go in through the back door that brings me into the kitchen.

 

The sight before me leaves me speechless and confused. I really don’t’ know where to look first. There is chocolate splattered everywhere and as I take a step into the room, something covered in chocolate dripped down from the ceiling in front of me and lands by my foot with a plop.

 

It's dead silent in the room which is my first clue that something is off; Claire always has music playing in the kitchen when she works.

 

Actually, my first inclination that something isn’t quiet right is seeing Jenny sitting in the sink crying. My eyes pass right over Drew lying on his stomach on the floor lapping up a puddle of chocolate like a dog. That’s not something I haven’t seen before unfortunately.

 

Since Jenny is closest to me, I start with her.

 

“Hey, what’s going on? Why are you crying? More importantly, why are you crying in the sink?” I ask her as I reach in and scoop her out of the big, stainless steel commercial sink like a baby. It takes a few minutes to steady her once I get her on her feet. She clutches onto my shoulders and stares up at me.

 

“I think Drew ate Claire,” she whispers. “She was sitting here a minute ago and then Drew said he was hungry and now she’s gone. He ate four batches of chocolate chip cookies and one batch of Claire.”

 

Jesus God what the fuck is going on?

 

I gently push Jenny away from me until her back is leaning up against the counter and I am certain she won’t fall. Turning around, I stare at the mess that has transformed this sparkling clean kitchen into a chocolate nightmare.

 

Are those chocolate covered Twinkies stuck to the wall?

 

I gingerly step around small puddles of melted chocolate on the floor, careful not to slip and fall, and make my way over to Drew who has given up sucking chocolate off of the floor and is now curled up in the fetal position asleep.

 

“Hey, ASSHOLE!” I yell. “Wake up!” I shove the toe of my shoe into his stomach and push until he rolls over onto his back and lazily opens his eyes to look at me.

 

“Duuuuuuuuude,” he says on an exhale of breath.