CHAPTER 12
An Epic Pool Party
(Number 8 On The Bucket List)
(I throw a Rager)
Sometimes I would rather die then feel this way. That's what I was thinking as Lorrie Lovitt served eggs to a pregnant Cynthia Garcia. My ex girlfriend, that I had unprotected sex with seven months ago, whose fiancee had left her. She was a real piece of work and had a lot of moxie showing up at my place.
Cynthia chewed her eggs happily. Lorrie sipped green tea viciously, if such a thing were possible. She scowled at Cynthia, from the corner of her eye, which was made difficult due to the fact that they sat side by side. I was on the opposite side of the bar style counter.
I sipped green tea calmly and pretended to be into reading Dick's bucket list in hopes that maybe it will drop the worlds largest hint and both women will disappear.
I hadn't masturbated in a good month and the goo was building up. Of course these two could never understand a thing like that. Though I'm sure Cynthia may have heard the advice about masturbating while preggers. Something about it being good for you or the baby or the midwife.
The facts were unclear to me.
“Dick at work?” Cynthia asked, breaking the silence. The silence actually shattered in that moment when Lorrie's tea glass collided with the floor. She had dropped it in obvious shock. “What did I say?” Cynthia asked.
“Dick was killed a while ago.” I said. “I didn't call to inform you because you were supposed to be married.”
“Oh my god, Tuck, I am so sorry.” Cynthia said, tears in her eyes, then she broke down into level three crying. I was irritated because I knew it was the hormones. Then something even worse happened. Lorrie joined her.
The two cried and I stared unsure what to do.
“Dude, get them out of the apartment.” I heard Dick say. Then he was standing next to me, bleeding from his throat and stomach. Eternal wounds.
Where the hell could I take the woman I was in love with and my pregnant ex girlfriend that is neutral ground?
“The park, dude.” Dick said. And my dead best friend was right. The park was neutral and full of underprivileged families. It really put the world into perspective.
“Alright ladies, let's all relax. We're going to the park.” I said with gentle authority.
“Can we stop for a churro? Dipped in pretzel mustard?” Cynthia asked, still bawling.
“Of course.” I said.
“And deep fried pickles with three scoops of vanilla ice cream on top?” Cynthia continued.
“I wouldn't even know where to get that.” I said. Lorrie had stopped crying and went back to scowling at Cynthia.
“I need to throw up.” Lorrie said and ran off to the bathroom holding her stomach.
“Period cramps.” Cynthia said with confidence.
“Gross.” I said and poured out what was left of my green tea. I suddenly didn't want anything in my stomach.
The day was warm and slightly cloudy. The good kind of cloudy. Post card cloudy. The large blue sea above us known as the sky complimented the greenery and various other colors of the park. To my left was Cynthia. To my right Lorrie Lovitt.
Lorrie sipped a diet seven up I bought her for her stomach. Cynthia ate her churro smothered in spicy mustard. That required two stops. I fought the urge to put my arm around Lorrie.
Occasionally, me and Lorrie's hands would touch from the swinging that our arms did while walking. Each touch was like small shocks of electricity running up my arm. The sun beamed off of Lorrie's face turning her chestnut eyes a fine chocolate brown. So many nights I lie awake thinking of her eyes.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked. Lorrie nodded. I patted her lightly on her upper back.
“That's good. If you need anything let me know.” I said and realized I was whispering. Cynthia was lost in the sugary cinnamon deep fried world of her Hispanic snack. She smiled at the sky, watched the children that were frolicking at the playground. I had never seen her so happy in all the years I'd know her.
Just when I though Dick's plan to bring them to the park was fool proof, things went sour.
“We still need to have a talk, Tuck.” Cynthia said, staring off into the distance.
“I know.” I said.
“Do you? Do you really know?” Cynthia asked.
“Yeah.” I said.
“We don't have a lot of time. I'm seven months pregnant here. I need your decision on this. I know what you're thinking, it's my body right? Well, it does take two to tango or swing dance and what we did that night was very dirty.”
“We can talk tonight. But I have some planning to do. So this park trip will have to be short.” I said, letting urgency creep into my voice.
“What do you have to plan?” Cynthia asked.
“Yeah, what's up?” Lorrie asked.
“Well,” I pulled the bucket list from my back pocket. “Number 19 on Dick's bucket list”
“What is it?” Lorrie asked, concern in her voice.
8. THROW AN EPIC POOL