Chapter 6

– Cream Puff Balls –

Marco

“So, anyway, this is my boyfriend, Marco—”

“POLO!” the guy munching on popcorn shouts again, cutting her off.

I try not to roll my eyes because going by the description Molly gave me in the car, I’m guessing he’s her Uncle Drew, and after what she told me he can do with a cheese grater, waffle iron, and a two pound bag of Skittles, I’m thinking he could be a lot of help with this next cookbook. Also, it’s hard to be irritated when my penis is happy after hearing Molly call me her boyfriend. It’s too conflicting and it’s always best to go with whatever emotion my penis wants, and my penis wants me to be happy, dammit.

Molly grabs my arm and starts squeezing it so hard I’m not sure if it means I should speak or let her do the talking for now. I’m too busy watching her mother continue to crawl across the floor with her hair draped down over her face like that freaky little girl in the movie The Ring, while eyeing the coffee mug in her dad’s hands that he’s now puffing his breath on and then buffing against his chest. I’m sure it will feel so much better smashing into my skull if it shines.

“Desoto,” Molly continues, giving them my last name and wisely ignoring her Uncle Drew. “We’ve been dating for…”

“Six months,” I finish for her when she pauses, figuring six months sounds like a good number. Not too short where they’ll think I defiled their little girl on the first date, and not too long where they’ll think we’re in a really serious relationship and drag us to the courthouse, demanding we get married immediately.

“Oh, aren’t they just the cutest thing, finishing each other’s sentences like that?!” Charlotte asks happily, trying to get everyone’s minds off of all the different ways they could kill me and make it look like an accident.

The woman I mistook for Molly’s mother walks across the room, sidestepping the real Mrs. Gilmore as she pauses on her hands and knees in the middle of the room to catch her breath from all that crawling.

She stands in front of me and holds out her hand. “I’m Claire Ellis, Molly’s aunt. It’s nice to meet you, Marco.”

“POLO!” Uncle Drew shouts again and the room lets out a collective groan. “I’m sorry! I just can’t help myself. It’s like a sickness.”

Aunt Claire gives me an apologetic smile and a quick reassuring squeeze of my hand before letting go. She seems really sweet and nice and not at all scary like Molly warned me in the car. Some of the tension immediately leaves my body, and I decide the best course of action right now is to suck up to someone who seems to be on my side and hopefully, the rest of these people will follow.

“Claire Ellis,” I repeat, returning her smile. “I thought you looked familiar. I can’t believe Molly never told me she had such a famous and talented aunt.”

I quickly realize I’m on the right track when Molly’s death grip on my arm loosens and I see the appreciative smile on her aunt’s face. I don’t even have to pretend how cool it is to find out Molly is related to THE Claire Ellis. We use several of her recipes in our classes at school, and there’s even a chapter in one of the first-year textbooks on business management about how she went from being a single mother and waitress to co-owning one of the largest business chains in the United States.

“You’re one of the reasons I became a pastry chef,” I boast proudly, hoping it’ll win me more brownie points. “My mother bought me your first cookbook for Christmas, I can’t even remember how long ago now, and your tip about chilling eggs before separating them changed my life.”

She laughs, her smile widening as she listens and basks in the glory of every compliment I throw at her like it’s my job.

“That is so sweet of you to say,” Claire tells me before giving Molly a wink. “Handsome, a pastry chef, and an outstanding suck-up. Looks like you picked a good one, Molls.”

Molly rests her cheek against my shoulder, forgetting about her no PDA rule, and I can practically feel the happiness and pride radiating off of her.

Yeah, that’s right Mr. Thug Mug over there, I’m good at this shit so pay attention! You too, Mrs. Ankle Biter trying not to have a heart attack on the carpet. Your best friend thinks I’m a good one! Back off, haters, I’m on a roll.

To firmly secure my excellent standing with Molly’s Aunt, I give her one last, perfect compliment I know she’ll appreciate, holding my hand out to her for another shake to seal the deal.

“Seriously, though. It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am.”

There’s a gasp from someone in the room, but I have no idea who it came from or why.

“Awwwww, shit,” Molly mutters, lifting her head from my shoulder.

The guy standing to the side, who I think is Gavin and just moments ago looked like he wanted to pummel my face, suddenly looks like he fears for his life as he begins backing away. With a quick glance around, I realize everyone has backed away as far as possible and they’re all studying different objects in the room like they’ve never seen them before. Uncle Drew has dropped to the ground and rolled under the coffee table to stare at the underside of the damn thing, and even Molly’s dad has his head stuck up the chimney, looking all around the inside like he expects to find a nest of birds in there.

When my eyes make it back to Molly’s aunt’s face, I realize the smile is completely gone and I’m still standing here holding my hand out that she’s refusing to take for some reason.

What in the hell did I do wrong?

“Forget everything I said about my dad,” Molly whispers. “You should probably start running now.”

Right when I start to drop my hand and apologize for God-knows-what, Claire’s smile suddenly reappears and she grabs my hand, squeezing it so hard I can feel my bones pop and rub together. I start to wonder if I imagined what just happened when Claire yanks me towards her so forcefully that I stumble and catch myself right before I slam into her.

“Wow, you are curiously strong,” I mutter as she leans her face so close to mine I can count each individual eye lash.

“You seem like a nice guy, Marco—”

“POLO!” Uncle Drew shouts from under the coffee table.

Claire continues in a low, threatening voice, like she didn’t even hear him. “But if you ever call me ma’am again, I will chop off your testicles and use them as cream puffs.”

My formerly happy penis shrivels up in fear, taking my balls with him.

Claire gives me a big smile that no longer comforts me, and I have a feeling I’ll be seeing this smile in my nightmares in the coming days, waking up in a cold sweat and clutching my balls.

She drops my hand and turns away, walking over to Molly’s mom. “Get up, fuck-face. I didn’t hit you that hard.”

Claire grabs Molly’s mom’s elbow and hauls her up from the floor.

“Kiss my ass, twat-licker!” her mom replies, yanking her arm out of Claire’s grasp, pushing her hair out of her face and straightening her clothes. “I’ll have you know I got carded buying wine the other day. The cashier told me he thought for sure I was only twenty.”

Claire snorts. “Yeah, maybe in dog years. Don’t worry, as soon as I buy you a Worlds Greatest Nana sweatshirt, no one will ever mistake you for being anything but old as fuck.”

Right when I think I can relax and have a few seconds without any attention on me while these two are busy bickering, everyone in the room suddenly grows balls again, crawling out from under tables and pulling their heads out of chimneys to give me the evil-eye now that Claire has mentioned the elephant in the room.

“Wait, did we decide on Nana, Granny, or Mee-Maw?” Claire asks, poking the bear that is Molly’s mom even harder. “Personally, I think Granny suits you. Granny Liz has a nice ring to it.”

Newly-crowned Granny Liz sticks her finger right in Great-Aunt Claire’s face, glaring at her without saying anything for a few seconds.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she finally threatens with a growl, flicking the tip of Claire’s nose before turning and stalking across the room to stand in front of me.