She crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot against the ground, obviously waiting for me to speak first. After the mistake I made with Aunt Claire, I know I need to step my game up the next time I open my mouth. This is Molly’s mom. I cannot piss off the mother of the woman I want to date or say anything stupid that will come back to haunt me even after everyone finds out the truth.

Be smart, be cool. You’ve totally got this, Marco.

“You’re really pretty and young and don’t look like a grandma at all. I’m sorry I made you a grandma when you’re so young and pretty and did I mention young? It was an accident, I swear. I mean, no, not an accident because this is kind of a happy thing and an accident is usually a bad thing where people die or bleed profusely and well, I guess there will probably be blood from what I remember of those high school health class videos but I’m pretty sure no one will die unless you or your husband decide to kill me and can I just say if I go missing my family would probably notice when I didn’t show up for Sunday dinner and if I miss a Sunday dinner, my mother would find where you buried my body and dig it up just to kill me again for missing dinner. Please, please don’t kill me and then make my mother kill me again because she’ll probably use a wooden spoon to beat me and that kind of thing will take a really long time to kill me and I don’t do very well with pain and—”

I feel a smack against the back of my head, cutting off the shit I couldn’t stop spewing, and I jump in fear wondering if my mother is somehow here and I really am about to die.

“I have a big penis, and I think I’m going to cry,” I mumble.

That earns me another smack to the back of my head and I realize Molly is the one channeling my mother when this time, she adds a threat to the smack.

“Stop talking. Please, for the love of GOD, stop talking,” she whispers loudly.

“Mom, I’m so sorry for—”

Molly doesn’t have a chance to finish her apology because her mother suddenly bursts into tears, moves away from me and wraps her arms around her daughter.

“I love you, Molls. Everything is going to be okay, even if you’ve been impregnated by an idiot,” her mother sniffles, rocking them both back and forth. “At least he’s pretty and you’ll have a pretty baby.”

I feel like I should take offense to that statement, but I wisely keep my mouth shut this time since I’m still feeling lightheaded after that long, run-on sentence of pure dog shit.

“So, is it okay for me to be happy about this now?” the woman who I guess to be Aunt Jenny shouts from across the room.

I’m assuming that’s Aunt Jenny since Molly told me a little bit about the woman in the car, and judging by the fact that she’s the only one in the room still pretending to be engrossed in something else, and that something else being a spot on the wall she’s had her nose pressed up against since I first made the mistake of using the word ma’am with Aunt Claire, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I’m right.

“I can’t handle all of the yelling and fighting, it’s messing with my Aurora,” she complains, turning away from the wall and rubbing her nose.

“I think you mean aura,” Charlotte informs her.

“No, it’s Aurora. She’s the one in charge of my chalks, which are the centers of spiritual power in my body. If Aurora is upset, all of my chalks are upset, and then my day is just ruined. Aura,” she scoffs. “That’s not even the name of a real person, Charlotte.”

Yep, that’s definitely Aunt Jenny.

“Get used to it, pretty boy,” Molly’s mom advises as she continues holding tightly to her daughter, but finally gives me a smile. “It’s best to just let Jenny talk. She’ll tire herself out eventually.”

I let out a sigh of relief, hoping she’s forgiven me for everything I said and what I allegedly but not really did to her daughter, praying it will help with her husband, who has gone back to shining his Thug Mug as he casually saunters over to one of the windows and glances outside.

“That your car out there parked by the curb?” he finally speaks without turning around.

Molly and her mother move out of their embrace, but keep one arm around each other’s waist as they look over at Molly’s father.

“Um, yes. Yes, sir, it is,” I reply, hoping to God he doesn’t have the same aversion to sir that Aunt Claire has to ma’am.

“GT Mustang Fastback, manual transmission with a five-point-oh-liter V6 engine?” he asks quietly.

The man definitely knows his cars and described my baby to a T just by looking at her parked on the street. I saved up for two years to buy that car and she is the most important thing in my life, after my mother and sisters, of course. Oh, and I guess this pretend baby that I’m the pretend father of. That should probably go somewhere towards the top of the list I suppose.

“That’s correct, sir,” I confirm, starting to get a little nervous that he might be having thoughts about bashing in my car’s skull instead of my own.

He finally turns away from the window and thankfully sets the Thug Mug down on the table next to the couch.

“Drew, Carter, how about we take Marco—”

“POLO!” Drew quickly screams happily.

Molly’s dad purses his lips in annoyance at the interruption, letting out a sigh before continuing.

“How about we take Marco-I-Swear-To-Fuck-If-You-Say-Polo-One-More-Fucking-Time-I-Will-Shove-My-Foot-Up-Your-Ass, for a little drive?” he asks, glaring at Drew as he turns my name into one long curse word.

“Jim, everything’s fine, honey,” Molly’s mom tells him. “There’s no need to do anything stupid.”

Jim smiles at her. “We’re not going to do anything stupid. Are we, boys?”

Drew and Carter walk up to either side of him and all three of them smile at me. Three evil smiles that don’t quite reach their eyes and obviously scream, “We’re going to fuck this Marco Polo asshole up until his face looks like raw hamburger meat and he no longer has the use of his legs.”

What the hell am I doing? Is some hot chick I’ve fantasized about really worth all of this? I can’t believe I actually thought MY family was crazy. They look like the damn Brady Bunch compared to these people.

I look away from the evil triplets long enough to glance at Molly. Her smile is so big it takes my breath away and that’s all it takes for me to realize she’s worth it. No woman has ever made me want to jump through hoops just to get her to smile. I’ve never felt so tied up in knots around anyone like I feel whenever Molly looks at me. Call it a gut feeling, call it plain old stupidity, but whatever it is, I’m not about to give up now. I knew the moment she told me she wasn’t really pregnant and I thought my heart would burst out of my chest that I would do whatever it takes to see where this thing goes. I want to know everything about her, even if it means dealing with her insane family. What’s a little blood in my urine and drinking my food through a straw as long as she’s there to give me sponge baths?

“Keys?” Drew asks, holding his hands out.

I tell myself everything will work out in the end as I pull the keys to my baby out of my front pocket and toss them across the room to Drew. As soon as he catches them, he runs towards me, ramming into my shoulder as he races through the doorway of the living room and down the hall behind us.

“SHOTGUN, BITCHES!” he shouts right as the front door slams closed behind him.

“Carter, don’t you dare let him shoot any guns while he’s driving!” Jenny warns.

Carter walks over to her and pats her on the head like a puppy without saying anything. He then makes his way to Claire, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t wait up, honey,” he tells her with a smile as she runs her palms down the front of his chest.

“Please try not to get any blood on this shirt. Blood stains are such a bitch to get out,” she informs him with a sigh.

Everyone seems to think this is funny and they all laugh. I don’t find this funny at all. It’s so NOT funny that I think a little pee might have come out of me.