No, no, no, no. Just...no.
“Phone calls? Do you mean you’ll call your mommy a lot when you’re older?” Lisa questions.
Don’t do it. For the love of God, don’t do it.
“No, we’ll make phone calls like Mommy and Daddy do when they go into their bedroom and lock the door and yell and make weird noises,” Gavin replies.
17. Midget and Donkey Shows
“When asked if he enjoyed preschool, the precocious four-year-old asked me if I was the police. When I told him that no, I was not the police, he informed me that I should go to jail and called me a ‘dicky punk’.”
Carter laughs as he reads the magazine interview aloud. Lisa had sent me an email copy of the interview right after she finished it so I could look it over, but seeing it in print in one of my absolute favorite magazines that I have read cover to cover for years and only dreamed about one day being in makes me feel a little sick to my stomach.
“How can you laugh about this? This isn’t funny.”
“Gavin is quite obviously fond of both of his parents. When asked what his favorite thing about his father was he replied, ‘He tucks me in at night and tells me that if I eat my green beans my wiener will grow big and strong just like his,’” Carter reads with a laugh.
“I’m buying that kid a Porsche. He just told all of America that I have a big, strong penis.”
I shake my head at him and get up to dump the rest of my now cold coffee into the sink and rinse out my cup. My morning coffee, which usually brings me close to orgasm and gives me the strength to make it through the day, leaves me feeling queasy. I’ve only been able to stomach two sips of it. I'm guessing that the combination of seeing my name in print in my most beloved food magazine and listening to Carter read back to me the embarrassment of that day three weeks ago is the culprit for my upset stomach.
“Claire, this interview is awesome. She raves about how amazing you are by making your dreams come true and how absolutely delicious everything you make is. This is going to drum up so much business for the store. You should be proud,” Carter tells me. “Although, I really think we need to sit down and talk about this p**n comment. I get that you’re uncomfortable about it, but you don’t need to be with me. I like p**n . I like to watch p**n . I would especially like to watch p**n with you,” he states as he set the magazine down on the kitchen table, stands up, and walks over to me.
He rests his hands on the counter on either side of me, caging me in. He presses his body up against my back and places a kiss to my shoulder. I sigh, memories of the last time we stood like this in the kitchen flooding my mind. Even having my mother walk in on us doesn’t diminish the hotness that is kitchen sex.
“What’s really going on in that head of yours?” Carter asks as he rests his chin on my shoulder and we stare out of the little window above the sink. I watch Gavin in the front yard, sitting on the walkway right in front of the porch drawing with sidewalk chalk. “I can tell something has been on your mind, so what gives?”
Just tell him. Tell him that all of a sudden after Liz and Jim’s wedding, all you can think about is donning a white dress, standing in front of everyone you know, and committing the rest of your life to this man.
“Ever since the wedding you’ve been on edge. Don’t worry, I have no intention of dragging you to the altar if that’s what you’re worried about,” Carter says with a laugh.
I close my eyes and let my head fall forward. I should have never made those little comments all these months about how I'm not sure about the whole idea of marriage. How the hell am I supposed to know I’d change my mind?
“It’s nothing, really,” I reassure him, turning in his arms and putting on a happy face I don’t really feel. I place my hands on his cheeks and pull his face to mine, kissing him with all of the love I feel bubbling in side of me. Carter moans softly and wraps his arms around me, holding me tight.
The front door opens and closes, and we end the kiss that's sure to heat up if we don’t stop. No matter what we have going on in our minds, no matter what kind of struggles we are dealing with, nothing can change the spark between us or how much we want and need each other. That is one thing I'm absolutely positive of. Right now, that is the only thing I am sure of.
“I love you,” I tell him, staring into his gorgeous blue eyes and trying to push my worries to the back of my mind. “I’m just out of sorts. Liz has been crazy busy since she got back from her honeymoon. We haven’t had a lot of time to talk and I miss her. And I just haven’t been feeling well.”
Carter puts his hand to my forehead as Gavin comes running into the room.
“You do look a little flushed. Are you coming down with something?” he asks, pressing the back of his hand to one of my cheeks.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just stress,” I reassure him.
“Hey, Dad, guess what my favorite word is?” Gavin asks as he stands next to us, bouncing back and forth excitedly from one foot to the other.
“I don’t know, what’s your favorite word?” Carter asks as we separate from our embrace, and I go back to rinsing out my coffee cup and the other couple of dishes in the sink.
“Nutjob. Nutjob is my favorite word.”
“Of course it is,” Carter states with a sigh as he lifts Gavin into his arms and starts walking across the kitchen, no doubt to once again explain to him the difference between little people words and big people words. I know it’s wrong to staple something to someone’s head, but I am two seconds away from writing this rule down on a piece of paper and smacking it to Gavin’s head with the black Swingline that's on our computer desk. And just that quickly, I feel like crying for even thinking about doing that to my son. I'm obviously having issues.