Baking and Babies
Page 20

 
“What are the chances the doctor is really old and senile, and we can switch vaginas without him noticing?” Charlotte asks right as the door opens.
 
A very handsome, very young man who doesn’t look a day over forty walks in wearing a white lab coat and a nametag that reads Dr. Christenson.
 
“Not good at all,” I whisper as he looks up from his clipboard and smiles.
 
“How’s your vision, doc?” I ask casually. “Twenty-twenty or blind-as-a-bat?”
 
He looks puzzled at my question and I don’t blame him. I don’t even understand half the things coming out of my mouth lately myself.
 
“Do you have the results from the urine sample?” Charlotte asks.
 
“I do and congratulations,” he tells me with a smile. “You are definitely pregnant. I just need to do an internal ultrasound so we can nail down how far along you are and discuss your next couple of visits.”
 
Charlotte hops down from the table and slides her hand through the crook of my arm. “Actually, doctor, I’m really sorry about this, but my sister isn’t feeling very well so we’re going to have to reschedule. She’s already thrown up twice, so we really need to be going.”
 
I put my hand over my mouth and make some pretend gagging noises as we walk to the door.
 
“Morning sickness…can’t stop puking,” I mutter behind my hand in between gags, giving him an apologetic look.
 
“Yep, so much puking,” Charlotte agrees, a loud gag coming out of her own mouth.
 
“What are you doing?” I whisper as we move through the door. “I’m the one fake gagging, not you!”
 
“I.”
 
Gag
 
“Can’t.”
 
Gag
 
“Help it,” she finishes as we rush down the hall towards the bathroom instead of the waiting room.
 
“Your fake gagging made me real gag!” she complains, dropping her hand from my arm and running the rest of the way to the bathroom and right to the toilet.
 
Once again, I’m stuck in a small, enclosed space listening to my sister upchuck the contents of her stomach while I hold her hair back.
 
While I hold my breath and try to ignore the smell and sounds coming out of Charlotte, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Holding Charlotte’s hair with one hand, I pull my phone out with the other and smile when I see a text from Marco.
 
“Marco apologized for not calling,” I tell Charlotte.
 
She lifts one arm from the bowl and gives me a thumb’s up while she sits back on her feet and sighs in relief.
 
“Oh, and good news,” I continue, reading the second text he just sent. “He’s finally finished throwing up hot dog pieces and feels much better.”
 
Charlotte whimpers, quickly sitting up and sticking her head back over the toilet bowl, another round of gagging overtaking her.
 
“You hairy-ball-sack-whore-of-a-whale’s-dick!” she curses in between gags.
 
“Oh, pipe down you smelly-ass-giant-vagina-scrotum-licker!” I shout back, quickly shoving my phone back into my pocket and holding her hair back with both hands.
 
There’s nothing quite like the love between two sisters.
 
Chapter 10
 
– Titillating Tube Socks –
 
Marco
 
“Today’s my daddy’s birthday. He farts a lot.”
 
I don’t even get my mother’s front door closed all the way before a squeaky little voice starts rattling off strange, random facts.
 
“My dog Ralphie pees on all of our pillows. Daddy called it humping but mommy said I can’t say that word and I’m ’upposed to say he’s peeing.”
 
Valerie, my four-year-old niece and the spitting image of my sister Tessa with her long, curly black hair and big blue eyes, starts running around in circles in front of me.
 
“Hump-hump-hump, I’m gonna pee on you!” she chants loudly as I pat her on the head awkwardly and walk towards the noise I hear coming from the kitchen. I love my niece, especially now that she can walk, talk, and take a dump without assistance, but I’m not really that great with kids. I love kids, don’t get me wrong. I’d like to have my own some day, I just don’t know what to say or do when I’m around them. At least I got a weekend off from getting yelled at for teaching her new swear words at Sunday dinner last week, since Valerie spent the night at Tessa’s husband’s parent’s house. Hopefully, I can remember to watch my mouth today and avoid my mother’s wrath. Tessa should be the one getting in trouble, since she hasn’t taught her offspring to stop repeating everything people say.
 
I find Rosa carefully ladling sauce from a giant pot into mason jars spread all over the island in the middle of the room.
 
“Canning sauce for the winter?” I ask, walking up to the opposite side of the counter from my sister and dipping my finger into one of the mason jars, bringing it up to my mouth for a taste test.
 
“Don’t put your dirty fingers into the sauce,” Rosa scolds, smacking the top of my hand. “God only knows where you’ve put those fingers lately.”
 
I know where I’d like to put my fingers, but after Molly had to watch me throw up in her parent’s bushes the other night after proving it was possible to eat an entire bag of dicks, I’m not sure these digits will be going anywhere near the Promised Land any time soon.
 
“Hump-hump-hump, I’m gonna pee on you!” Valerie shouts happily into the kitchen as she races by to head to one of the spare bedrooms my mother converted into a toy room for her only grandchild.
 
Rosa gives me a dirty look and I put my hands up. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I did NOT teach her those words. Where is Tessa anyway? Shouldn’t she be keeping an eye on her spawn?”
 
“She asked us to watch Valerie for a few hours so she could get some work done while Danny is out of town at a conference,” Rosa explains distractedly as she starts putting lids on the already-filled mason jars.
 
I’ve been friends with Tessa’s husband Danny since high school, and I don’t hold it against him that he broke the cardinal rule of Guy Code by dating my sister. Mostly because when he’s in town, he breaks up all the estrogen in this house so I don’t feel like I’m starting to grow a pussy being surrounded by women all the time.
 
“Where’s Ma?”
 
“Grabbing more supplies from the basement,” she replies, finishing with the last jar and letting out tired breath.
 
“Good. Since we’re alone, I can kick your ass in peace for the shit you pulled on Facebook,” I tell her.
 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says, unable to hide the smirk on her face as she crosses her arms in front of her and stares at me.
 
“You made me sound like a giant pussy. A smiley face? Really?”
 
Rosa laughs. “Hey, I did you a favor with that Molly chick. I’m trying to make you look like less of a dick so when she finds out you’re Alfanso D., she won’t hate you so much. Wait until you see what I posted today.”
 
My jaw drops and I quickly pull my phone out of my back pocket, immediately going to Facebook. The Alfanso D. page has over two-hundred notifications and I hold my breath as I click on the post pinned at the top.
 
“What did you do?! Oh, sweet Jesus on a jelly bean…you asked her on a date?!” I screech.
 
I read the post out loud because clearly reading it in my head wasn’t torture enough.
 
“Dear Molly Gilmore,” I pause and give my sister a little growl of annoyance. “Gee, thanks so much for tagging her in this post.”
 
She takes a bow and I remind myself that hitting a girl, even if she’s your annoying older sister is frowned upon, and turn my attention back to the post that is sure to ruin my life. “In case you didn’t see my previous apology, I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly apologize to you in front of all my readers. I would also like to officially ask you to have dinner with me so I can prove to you that the D. in my name does not stand for dick, douchebag, dummy or dipshit.”