I Blame Pia and Maja

“So if I asked you for garlic, would you think that’s weird?”

“Garlic? What kind of garlic?”

“Oh, the pink kind with the purple polka dots–you idiot–what kind of garlic–stupid question.”

“No need to get hostile, Liz. Geez, you’ve been in such a bad mood the last few days. And yesterday–you grossed me out.”

“Oh, you’re just being annoying now. There’s nothing wrong with ice cream.”

“Honey, you had chocolate marshmallow ice cream topped by some red hot chili peppers. That’s gross.”

“You know, their last album was really good. Did you hear it?”

“Yes. I like–stop changing the subject. What’s with the nasty moods and the weird cravings–ah, son of a bitch, Gia’s gonna kill you.”

“That’s all you can say? Gia’s gonna kill me? Some best friend you are.”

“She’s already irritated that you managed to get the guy to the altar first. If she finds out you’re…you know…she’s gonna knock your head off.”

“Can I help it if Jason’s swimmers are more motivated than yours?”

“Dude, I am not talking about Jason’s sperm. That’s gross.”

“Oh, for crying out loud–you have sperm too. Oh, ew.”

“You see what I mean? No more sperm talk. Besides, it’s not that they’re more motivated…they just have better timing.”

“Better timing? Maybe yours are as lazy as you are.”

“I am not lazy.”

“Ha!”

“I’m not. I just don’t feel like doing a lot of stuff.”

“Anyway, I haven’t told Jason yet. What do you think I should lead off with? The garlic bit? Speaking of which–do you have any garlic?”

“I repeat, what kind of garlic?”

“Lucky–”

“We’ve got powder and we’ve got the whole clove things. You want some garlic bread or something?”

“Ooh, yeah.”

“So how long have you known?”

“You promise not to yell?”

“No good can come from this.”

“No, Lucky. I’m serious. You really can’t yell at me.”

“The only way I might yell is if you already popped the kid out and have him in a closet.”

“Oh, God no.”

“So??”

“Threemonths.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear that. Believe it or not, when a person shoves a carrot in their mouth, takes a swig of juice and tries to speak all at the same time, it comes out kind of a garbled.”

“I said–three months.”

“I take back the non yelling agreement.”

“Lucky–”

“Dude, you haven’t told him and you’ve known for three months? Have you lost your mind? Eventually, you’re gonna get fat.”

“That’s real charming.”

“Whatever. Why the hell haven’t you said anything? And no, don’t shrug and give me those puppy eyes. I’m immune.”

“Look–we’ve been married for like five months. And we only got engaged because I think I accidentally guilted him into it. So excuse me for being slightly apprehensive about telling my husband he’s not a free man anymore.”

“Jason loves kids.”

“Yeah, and you know this how?”

“Well, it’s not like he’s ever told me but–come to think of it, I’ve never seen him around any kids–aw, hey, don’t moan like that. It’s not that bad.”

“I am so dead. I’m dead. I’m gonna tell him we’re having a baby and he’s just gonna look at me like I’m a horrible person.”

“How long have you been with Jason?”

“Eighteen months.”

“Jason loves you. He married you. He doesn’t do things he doesn’t want to do so even if you might have used a tiny guilt trip on him to get him to the altar, ultimately it wouldn’t have made a difference if he didn’t want to marry you.”

“No, no, see, I don’t really think Jason’s all that fond of being married to me. I think before, he was okay with the whole living together thing because he had, you know, an escape clause. But now the only way out is a divorce and that means alimony and hell, now it means child support.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah?”

“You on drugs?”

“No.”

“What would give you the idea he wants an escape clause? Hey, no mumbling.”

“Because I sort of think he might have kind of–look can we just not talk about it? I’m pissed off about it and now I’m pregnant and I really just want my stupid garlic bread so I can curl up with it and cry.”

“Aw, hell, what do you think Jason did this time?”

“You always take his side. Why does it always have to be me that misinterpreting it?”

“Oh, shit. Lizzie, don’t cry. I didn’t–ah, crap, where’s Gia when you need a sensitive person?”

“Because I really did catch him kissing the magnificent whore at Jake’s last week and he wouldn’t have kissed her if he liked being married to me and I really think that I should have just left things well enough alone without having to shove engagement rings at him and drop hints about you thinking of proposing to Gia–”

“Whoa, whoa, let’s back up a second. Was he kissing her or was she kissing him?”

“I don’t know. I saw and I left. I’m not a glutton for punishment, y’know.”

“Couldn’t it be possible the magnificent whore kissed him? It’s not like it’s the first time.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t he just tell me?”

“Oh, I don’t know…because you tend to try and commit murder whenever her name is mentioned?”

“So he’s still protecting her. See, this is why I never should have gone out with him in the first place.”

“Aw, come on, he loves you.”

“Ha.”

“Lizzie, don’t make me beat you. Listen, go home. Talk to Jason about the blonde thing. When he explains it–and I have every faith that he will–tell him about the baby.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Lizzie.”

“Well, seriously what if he does love me but he doesn’t want kids yet?”

“Then you should have been careful. You know, condoms and stuff. Kept his little swimmers out.”

“Good point. He’s gotta realize there’s a penalty right?”

“God help him.”

“So, about that garlic bread?”

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