Troubles and Treats (Chocolate Lovers 3)

“I think it’s a big deal when you’re both standing in your neighbor’s front yard with nothing on but glitter body paint,” Liz says with a laugh.

“Still, I can’t believe he threatened someone. And a psychiatric person at that. Like the guy doesn’t have enough problems being crazy? Now he has my husband to worry about. What if Drew sending him that email pushed him over the edge and he goes on a killing spree or something?”

“He is a psychiatrist, not a psychiatric person. He’s not crazy; he helps crazy people. It sounds like Drew should be his patient,” Liz deadpans.

“He was listening to a self-help CD. Did I tell you that part? It was called: How to Bring the Spark Back to Your Marriage. We’ve lost our spark,” I sob.

“I love you, but don’t cry. I will punch you in the face if you cry. I don’t do criers. You have not lost your spark. It’s just…temporarily on vacation,” she explains as she unpacks the box.

“Why the hell did it go on vacation? I never said it could go on vacation! I need my spark, Liz. You don’t understand. I need my spark to live!” I wail.

“It sounded to me like you found quite the spark at the vibrator race,” Liz laughs. “You got a standing ovation during the awards ceremony. People have been asking me where they can buy the video.”

“Well, we’re already under contract with the company we entered the home movie contest with so I’d have to check with them and see. It might be a conflict of incest,” I tell her.

“Jenny. For the love of God, think before you speak. Just say what you want to say in your head first before you open your mouth,” Liz tells me seriously.

“What? Incest means that you’re related, right? Drew and I are related.”

Liz stops unpacking the box and stares at me in horror.

“What. The. Fuck?”

I roll my eyes at her and take the package of Jack Rabbits out of her hand. “Um, hello? We’re husband and wife. So we’re related. And you think I’m dumb.”

Liz puts her head in her hands and whimpers to herself. I lean over and pat her on the back in sympathy. “It’s okay, things confuse me sometimes too.”

“What should I do, Liz? I tried the faking it thing, and I thought that worked, but the next two times I suggested doing it again he said no. He actually turned me down! He says he misses my vagina but I think he’s lying. I used to have such an awesome vagina. What if it’s not awesome anymore? I need a second opinion. Liz, look at my vagina.”

Liz stands up from the box and starts backing away.

“Take it back,” she states.

“No, really, I think this is what I need. I need someone who will be honest with me. Look at my vagina,” I tell her as I start unbuttoning my jeans.

Liz throws her hands up in the air and bumps into a shelf against the wall, vibrators and lube falling to the ground. “Back away, Jenny. Just back away and no one will get hurt.”

I get my pants unzipped and push them down to the middle of my thighs.

Good thing I wore my good underwear today.

“Just one look, that’s all I’m asking. Just look at my vagina and tell me if it still looks okay or if it’s a hot mess,” I plead.

“Oh my God, my eyes, MY EYES!” Liz yells, covering her face with her hands.

“Liz, LOOK AT MY VAGINA!” I shout as I hobble closer to her and my jeans slide down to my knees. “I AM NOT LEAVING HERE UNTIL YOU LOOK AT MY VAGINA!”

I hear a gasp and turn around to see Jim standing in the doorway staring at us. I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Move along, Jim. There’s nothing to see here.”

He shakes his head back and forth, his eyes never blinking as he looks from me to Liz and then back again.

“I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he whispers. “I’ve prayed, I’ve wished on stars, I’ve wished on pennies in wishing wells…my prayers have been answered. God is good.”

Liz huffs and walks around behind me, grabbing onto my jeans and yanking them back up over my ass.

“Nooooooo,” Jim whimpers. “They’re supposed to go the other way.”

“Oh for f**k’s sake, close your mouth. Turn around, walk out of this room right now, and never speak of this again,” Liz warns him as I button and zip my jeans.

“My dreams…shattering right before my eyes,” Jim says with a sad sigh as he turns and leaves.

Liz comes around in front of me and grabs my shoulders. “You are fine, your vagina is fine, and you are going to forget all about this shit and come with me and Claire to the Blossom Music Festival this weekend.”

I start to shake my head ‘No’ and she puts her hand over my mouth when I open it to protest. “You are coming with us. End of story. We’ll have a girl’s night, drink a lot of beer, listen to '80s cover bands and find your spark. I’m sure it will be at the bottom of the third cup of beer. And if you ever ask me to look at your vagina again, I will punch you in the uterus.”

~

“Pretty please? Say it again. Just one more time!” Claire tells the woman we just met standing in line for beer.

The woman laughs and says, “Put another shrimp on the Barbie!”

Liz, Claire, and I laugh hysterically and jump up and down with excitement. I’m not really sure if it’s the beer that makes this funny or if it really is funny. The woman in front of us is from Australia and we’ve spent our fifteen minutes in line getting her to say Australian things.