Eye Candy

I can’t help the wave of sadness that washes over me when I think about how my dream house went on the market and sold before I even knew it was available. When Sam and I got engaged, we moved into his house, since I was unemployed and living with my parents at the time. Don’t get me wrong, we have a really great house. It’s a ranch, with a big yard. And Sam let me do whatever I wanted with it when I moved in. I do love where we live, out in the middle of nowhere—but it’s thirty minutes away from my family. One would think, as crazy as my family is, that I’d be perfectly fine living far enough away from them that they can’t come over every five minutes and bring their crazy right to my front door. My overprotective father, who still hasn’t adjusted to me being a grown woman with a husband and a baby on the way; my overbearing mother, who talks about sex more than any mother should; and my Aunt Bobbie, who used to be my Uncle Robert, and never leaves home without wearing a sparkling evening gown, a full face of makeup, and a wig, are entirely too much crazy for one family to handle. At least my older brother, Nicholas, and his wife, Casey, help to balance out the normal.

And while a year ago it might have been true that I’d want to be as far away from them as possible, now that Sam and I are about to have a baby, thirty minutes away seems like thirty hours. What if Sam’s at work and there’s an emergency? And he’s a Marine—what if he gets deployed again? I’ll be a half hour away from my support system.

“Maybe the new neighbors like to keep to themselves. I’m sure they’re very nice people. They just moved in and they’re already participating in the decorating contest. That’s got to say something,” Sam tells my dad, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, it says they want a war with the official Halloween Decorator King.”

“Dad, that’s not a real title,” I remind him.

“It’s a real title if I say it’s a real title!” he argues. “Obviously I need to up my game and prove to those yahoos that they can’t beat me. Sam, make yourself useful: Go find me as many clown costumes as you can.”

“Where, exactly, am I supposed to find clown costumes?” Sam asks as my father starts walking toward the garage, his current command center for all things Halloween decorations.

“YOU’RE A CLOWN WHO DEFILED MY DAUGHTER! GO LOOK IN YOUR OWN CLOSET!” Dad shouts back to him, over his shoulder.

With one last look at the house across the street, Sam grabs my hand and laces his fingers through mine. Staring straight ahead to avoid eye contact with any of the creepy, lifelike clowns, we make our way through the yard and up the porch steps, pausing in front of the door.

Sam lets go of my hand, rests his palms on my huge stomach, and smiles down at me.

“What are the odds our child will grow up to be completely normal and not at all batshit crazy?” he asks.

“Slim to none,” I immediately reply, placing my hands on top of his, our smiles broadening when we feel a little kick from inside my belly.

“At least you’re honest,” Sam laughs.

“I’m always honest about the craziness of my family. Just remember, you signed up for this shit. You agreed to take me for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and to protect me from clowns for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t remember the clown part of our vows,” Sam muses.

“It’s a recent addendum. So get your ass moving and get me the hell away from these things or I’ll take you with me when I get on the bus to crazy town.”





Chapter 2: Babies Do Not Go in Ovens


Sam

“Everyone, pay attention! I’m bringing this meeting to order, so shut the hell up!”

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah.” Noel is chanting the creepy theme music from Friday the 13th under her breath when her best friend, Scheva Oliver, yells at everyone.

Scheva and Noel were best friends in high school, but lost touch when Noel moved away from Ohio to live in Seattle. As soon as Noel moved back home, the Christmas she and I met, her friendship with Scheva picked up right where it left off, and the two became inseparable again. We introduced Scheva to my best friend, Alex Rose, last Valentine’s Day, and what started off as a fling quickly turned into something more. After Scheva announced at Easter that she would be marrying Alex, Noel started humming “here comes the bride” whenever Scheva entered the room. Now, as my wife has become increasingly more miserable and cranky during the last trimester of her pregnancy, and Scheva has turned into a bridezilla on crack, it’s safer for everyone involved if Noel lets out her frustrations by channeling Michael Myers.

You know, singing his theme song instead of going on a murderous rampage.

I love my wife more than anything else in this world, but she’s been scaring the shit out of me lately with her mood swings. No one will be happier than me when she finally gives birth. Don’t tell her I said that, though, or she’ll probably stab me in the throat while I sleep.

“I’ve called everyone here tonight so we can discuss, and make any final changes to, the outfits you’ll be wearing next weekend. At my wedding. The moment I officially become a bride. The one day where everyone will be paying attention to me. And the last perfect, amazing day I’ll ever have for the rest of my life,” Scheva announces, tossing her long blond hair over one shoulder.

“Um, hello? Married to this guy for the rest of your life,” Alex reminds her, pointing both his thumbs to his chest.

Noel likes to call Alex and me the yin and yang of hot guys. We’re pretty much the same height and have the same muscular build thanks to the military, but where I have short dark hair, Alex’s is short and blond. I still think I’m better looking than he is, and make sure to tell him that on a regular basis. Alex and I had similar childhoods. We both lost our parents at a young age and were tossed around the system until we turned eighteen, when we joined the Marines. Our similar lives forged a bond that I can’t break, no matter how much he irritates me sometimes. When I introduced Alex to Noel’s family, they immediately welcomed him into the fold and made him one of their own, much like they’d done with Scheva.

Even though Scheva’s parents are alive, they’ve never really given a shit about her. As soon as she turned eighteen and moved out, they started traveling the world and forgot they had a daughter. Noel’s family may be crazy, but they’ve taken in all of us orphans and made us a part of their family without a second thought.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Scheva sighs with a wave of her hand. “Happily ever after and all that shit. But I’ve been dreaming about being a bride all my life, and it’s almost over. I’ll never have anything to look forward to ever again.”

“Boy, marriage is going to be fun!” Alex replies sarcastically, which earns him a glare from his bride-to-be.

“Marriage is hard work,” Bev, Noel’s mother, announces from the other side of the room, where she is busily rearranging the orange pumpkin lights hanging across the fireplace mantle. “I hope your ups and downs are only in the bedroom.”

“Ew, gross,” Noel whispers, her lips curling in disgust.

“Get it? Ups and downs in the bedroom? Because when you’re having sex your bodies move—”

“Oh my God, Mom, we get it. Stop. Don’t make me throw up my dinner,” Noel complains.