Baking and Babies - Page 30/52

 

I let out a surprised laugh. My Grandma Madelyn is my mom’s mom and she’s a tad uptight, a tiny bit snobby, and a control freak when it comes to any kind of big event. She’s been driving mom and Charlotte insane lately, calling ten times a day to check on the wedding plans. I don’t really see her letting loose or boozing it up with everyone else in the hotel suite we booked downtown Cleveland for tonight. At least I’ll have one sober person to keep me company though. Well, besides Charlotte, but she has to act drunk and that’s going to be just as bad. She’s been freaking out all week about how she’s going to make it look like she’s drinking in front of everyone, so I filled up five flasks with water and stuck them in my purse. Ava packed three of her own filled with orange juice, and we plan on shoving them at her any time someone else tries to give her a real drink.

 

“I DON’T WANT YOUR HUSH MONEY!”

 

The front door slams shut and my mom and I turn our heads to see what the hell is going on.

 

Tyler, Ava’s boyfriend, stands in the entryway with Grandma Madelyn, holding out a wad of bills to her.

 

“It’s not hush money, Madelyn, it’s gas money,” Tyler explains. “You already offered to take the stuff to my dad’s house and I want to pay for your gas.”

 

Grandma looks at the money in his hand with disgust while mom and I make our way towards them.

 

“That’s drug money! I don’t want your drug money!” Grandma shouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Drug money spends just as well as regular money!” Tyler argues. “What do you think I used to pay for that new TV Ava and I got you for your birthday last year?”

 

Tyler told me a few months ago that he started growing pot to sell to his friends so he could make some extra cash to buy Ava an engagement ring. I’m not a prude and I’ve smoked it a time or two, but I told him he was an idiot and nothing good could come from that endeavor since the stuff still isn’t legal in Ohio.

 

“What the hell is going on?” Mom asks.

 

“Um, well, you see, one of my friends overheard our landlord talking to someone about there being pot in a some of the apartments,” Tyler explains. “I got a little freaked out there would be a raid or something, so I packed everything up in my trunk and got it out of there just in case.”

 

Mom sighs and shakes her head.

 

“I was pulling it out of my trunk to put in Dad’s car when Madelyn came up and asked if she could help,” he says with a shrug. “When she asked what was going on, I told her I was just moving some of my stuff back to Mom and Dad’s, and she offered to help so they wouldn’t have to.”

 

Mom sighs again and I wonder if she’s lost the ability to speak or if she’s just letting out all the pissed off air so she doesn’t start screaming obscenities in front of her mother.

 

“Is your father aware you planned on putting illegal narcotics in his car?” Mom asks.

 

“You’ve met my father, right? He offered to smoke it all so the cops wouldn’t find it,” Tyler replies.

 

Tyler found out not too long ago that his biological father is my Uncle Drew. It’s a long story that involved a drunken one-night stand in college, but there you have it. This information, while a tad shocking, at least gave all of us a reason for why Uncle Drew and Tyler are so strangely similar.

 

“I thought it was just clothes and nick-knacks until I smelled skunk. I know that smell. I’ve smoked the ganja a few times in my day, but I’ve never seen so many pounds of the ganja in one place,” Grandma tells us, whispering the word “ganja” each time she uses it.

 

“Please tell me you did not bring a trunk load of marijuana to my house,” Mom finally speaks.

 

“Of course not,” Tyler replies. “I’m not an idiot. It’s just two totes of marijuana, not an entire trunk load.”

 

Mom and I both shake our heads and I wonder if I should start restraining her now or wait until she makes a lunge for his throat.

 

“The dried buds are all carefully sealed in zip lock bags, don’t worry.”

 

Grandma drops her arms to her sides and studies Tyler for a few seconds.

 

“Buds as in flower buds? Like house plants?” she asks.

 

“Sure, just like house plants,” Tyler nods, deciding it’s best to humor her so she stops screaming about hush money.

 

“Well, in that case, put them in my trunk and I’ll take them to my house,” she informs him.

 

“Mom!” my mother yells.

 

“Oh, Liz, it’s fine. You know Drew and Jenny don’t have green thumbs and they’ll just kill the plants. I can water the ganja on Thursday when I water my ferns and lilies,” she informs her.

 

“Excuse me, could you say that one more time, a little louder? Stan, get a mic on her, would ya?”

 

We all turn and see a guy standing behind us in the hallway with a huge camera on his shoulder, while another guy stands next to him holding a long metal pole with a giant microphone attached to the end.

 

“Surprise!” Mom says with fake enthusiasm. “The big announcement is that Claire and I were asked to do a documentary about our daily lives and running a business.”

 

Grandma quickly smooths her hair back and straightens her clothes, smiling brightly for the camera.

 

“I don’t know if I’m comfortable being on television, Liz,” she whispers through her smile.

 

“It’s a little late for that, Ganja Grandma,” Mom mutters.

 

The front door opens and Tyler jumps out of the way as Ava pokes her head inside.

 

“The limo is here, bitches!” she shouts. “Any female who plans on being a drunk whore tonight should immediately report to the driveway!”

 

Mom groans, closing her eyes and dropping her head.

 

“What’s with the camera?” Ava asks, staring at the two strangers in the hallway, happily recording the shit show in front of them.

 

“Oh, no big deal. They’re just filming a documentary on our family,” I inform her. “You’re just in time for the episode about Grandma becoming a drug dealer.”

 

The camera and sound guy quickly turn away from us when the guys walk out of the living room in the middle of a heated argument.

 

“I jerked-off into socks when I was a teenager, for Christ’s sake. It’s not like I still do it now!” Marco yells loudly, coming to a quick stop when he sees the camera and microphone.

 

Dad, Uncle Drew, and Uncle Carter all slam into the back of him when he stops so suddenly.

 

“What the hell, M.O.? Did your crusty socks stick to the floor or something?” Uncle Drew asks with a laugh. “Hey, are we on TV?!”

 

I quickly skirt around the camera crew and up to Marco, going up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and a sympathetic pat against his chest.

 

“It’s fine, I’m sure this thing isn’t going to air on any major networks or anything,” I whisper.

 

“Actually, it’s probably going to be syndicated on the Discovery Channel in all fifty states,” the guy holding the microphone informs us.

 

“So, I just told a few million people I used to masturbate into my socks,” Marco mutters.

 

“But you looked good doing it!” I say cheerfully.

 

“Can we please get moving? All this standing around is killing my buzz,” Ava complains.

 

Charlotte comes bounding down the stairs just then, stopping at the bottom and looking around at everyone. “Sorry I took so long getting ready. What did I miss?”

 

“Jizz socks!” Uncle Drew shouts.

 

“Anyone have a preference on where we go tonight to film?” the camera guy asks. “Stay with the guys or go with the ladies?”

 

Drew walks around the guys and throws his arm over the cameraman’s shoulder. “Might as well stay with us, man. I can’t promise you strippers, but I can promise a turtle porn snuff film, and I have a guy from the zoo stopping by in an hour to let us play with a meerkat. Should make for good television entertainment, especially if we can get the meerkat to watch the turtle porn.”