Troubles and Treats Read Online Free PDF Page B

she’s good.  She really thought this through.  I would have never thought to
     go get ice.  That limp kind of looks real too.  She must have been practicing.
    I jump up and go to her side in a show of “helping” her with her “injury”, when really,
     I just want to see if I can trip her up.
    As I help her walk into the kitchen, I stick my foot out in front of her and she stumbles
     over it, grabbing onto the table at the last minute before she falls to the ground.
    “Drew!  What the hell?  Did you just trip me?” she yells.
    “How’s your ankle?” I ask, staring down at the foot suspiciously as she holds it a
     few inches above the floor.
    “What is wrong with you today?  You’re acting weird,” she mutters before using one
     of the chairs to help her stand and then hops over to the freezer to grab an ice pack.
    “I’m onto you, Jenny,” I tell her menacingly.
    “What the hell are you talking about?” she asks as she sits at the kitchen table,
     brings her foot up to a chair, and sets the ice pack on top of her ankle with a wince.
    Man alive, how is she so good at this?  I never knew she was such a good faker.  Oh
     Jesus, what if this isn’t the only thing she fakes?  Oh my God.  This is why she never
     wants to have sex with me.  She’s tired of faking it!
    “You’re faking it when you have sex with Claire and now you want to cheat me out of
     my money!  Sons a bitchin!” I yell, before stomping out of the room.
     
    ~
     
    In hindsight, I’m pretty sure I can pinpoint exactly where I went wrong with Jenny. 
     I blame it all on natural childbirth.  No man should ever have to see his wife in
     that position.  No man should ever have to look at a live vagina in that position. 
     Although a dead vagina in that position would probably be just as bad because it would
     be dead.  A dead, gooey vagina.  It’s a sight you can never un-see.
    The day had started off fairly well.  Jenny was a week overdue so the doctor had her
     check into the hospital first thing in the morning so she could be induced.  We took
     Veronica with us since the day would mainly consist of us sitting around waiting for
     something to happen.  Carter and Claire agreed to take her home with them for a sleepover
     once things started progressing.  We did everything we were supposed to do so Veronica
     wouldn’t hate her brother at first sight.  We included her when we picked out the
     name, we let her help decorate the nursery, we brought her to the hospital, and we
     had a present hidden in Jenny’s overnight bag that would be given to Veronica, “from
     her brother”, as soon as he was born - everything necessary so she wouldn’t step on
     his nuts and call him a shitbag when she saw him.  Considering that was the name she
     picked for him, calling him that at first sight actually wouldn’t have been that weird. 
     It was her new favorite word, and it was a hard sell to get her to pick another name
     out for him when we were going through the baby name book.
    “But I wanna call him Shitbag!  Baby is a shitbag!”
    It was kind of hard to be mad when she strung together her first swear word sentence. 
     It really was a proud day for me.
    Around lunchtime on the day of delivery was when things got serious.  And by serious,
     I mean seriously fucked up.  Jenny’s contractions went through the roof and the woman
     I like to refer to as “Crazy-Ass Bitch” made an appearance.  And I mean that in the
     nicest way possible.
    “WHERE THE FUCK IS THE GUY WITH THE DRUGS?”
    I put my hands over Veronica’s ears and stared in horror at my wife.  Jenny never
     yelled or cursed in front of Veronica.  Ever.  She raised her voice at times, but
     it was usually just because someone couldn’t hear what she was saying.  This was a
     whole new side of her I wasn’t used to.
    “The nurse just paged him like two minutes ago, baby.  He’ll be here soon,” I reassured
     her as I removed my hands from