“If that’s all, I have to go. I have to run errands for my Sunday brunch.”
“Yeah, that’s all,” he says and hangs up.
“Oh my god.” I run to my purse, searching for where I put the dry-cleaning bill. Once I find it, I call the number at the top. They answer after one ring.
“Rinse and Clean, how may I help you,” the lady says right before I stutter out.
“Hi, hi, I was in a couple of days ago. I don’t know if you remember me. I needed an order washed twice.” I sit on the stairs. “The number is 076453.”
“Oh, the one who brought back the clothes still in the wrapping. Yes, ma’am, I put a rush on it, and they should be ready in about an hour.”
I look at my watch and see that it’s already almost four. “Okay, thank you. Are you open tomorrow?” I ask her, knowing I won’t be able to get there and back before I have to get Gabe to his soccer game.
“We are open until four on Saturday and noon on Sunday,” she says and hangs up after we say good-bye.
“Fuck! I have to add a stop to our growing list of things to do tomorrow. Next time I offer to host a brunch, kick me in the ass, please,” I tell Kaleigh. The day flies by in a flurry of errands and preparations, and before I know it, it’s Sunday morning.
I set my alarm for eight, since the caterers will be arriving at eight thirty.
I make my way downstairs just in time to see Kaleigh walk in the door still wearing last night’s outfit.
“Oh, the walk of shame. Nice. Very Nice,” I say while I sip my coffee and she sits down at the counter.
“What’s a walk of shame?” Rachel asks, and I look over at Kaleigh.
“It’s when you are still wearing last night’s clothes,” Kaleigh discloses to her and then whispers to me, “After they were on the floor of the hot guy whose cock you rode all night.” And then she throws her fist, pumping.
I smack her arm and pick up Rachel in my arms. “You get to wear the pretty dress today. Are you excited?” I ask her.
“So excited! We get to go get our hair fixed?” She throws up her hands, mimicking Kaleigh.
The doorbell rings, and I let the caterer in while we go upstairs to get dressed so we can leave the caterers to do their thing while we get pampered.
Even Gabe comes along for the fun. Well, not fun for him, but he pretends.
Once we get home, we all rush upstairs to change with only twenty minutes to spare.
I hurry into my room and pull out my white skirt that is tight to the knees with pleats all the way around. I pair it with a tight brown spaghetti-strapped camisole that molds to my boobs, and my brown strappy wedges.
“Umm, Lauren? I think you should see this,” I hear Kaleigh say at the same time the doorbell rings. I spray my perfume on and rush downstairs, where my parents have just walked in with all of their friends arriving at the same time.
“Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.” I greet them with a hug.
“Thank you, dear,” Mom says, hugging me in return.
“Please, everyone, come in. I had the backyard set up for our brunch.” I point the way to the backyard. Kaleigh, who has changed and is now wearing a pretty, pink sundress—with a bra, I might add—rushes over to me.
“I think you need to see outside before everyone else does.” She says talks with her teeth clenched, which confuses me.
“What are you talking about?” I ask and then the doorbell rings again. I go to answer it before Kaleigh does. I open the door to be greeted by a guy holding a huge chocolate bouquet.
I gasp out in shock when I see that all of the chocolates are made of penises and the pail holding them is adorned with a huge pink bow. “I have a delivery for Lauren,” he announces, looking at the clipboard in his hand.
“I…” I stutter, while he pushes the pail into my hands. “I didn’t order these.” I look down and see that there are both white chocolate ones and milk chocolate ones, all on white sticks. I shake my head, my throat getting dry. He walks to his truck that is parked in the driveway and comes back with two more pails. “I don’t want this,” I say to him, but he’s just a delivery guy, so he just smiles and leaves.
“Oh my god,” Kaleigh says from beside me. “Don't freak out.” She looks at me.
“Why would I freak out?” I ask right when my mother yells from outside.
I walk past the caterers, who are still preparing. When I walk into the backyard, my eyes survey the scene as my mouth hangs open at what I see.
I look at the white tables I ordered that are all set up with the turquoise tablecloths I requested. The little glass vases holding the white flowers in them just like I ordered in the center of each table. Except there are also bouquets of balloons—all white and turquoise, each one stamped with a penis.
Now, as if that isn’t bad enough, there are also approximately fifty two-foot tall pink, penis-shaped helium balloons. The penis has a smile on the head and a blue bow around the shaft. They are all floating around the yard.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” I cry, looking over to see that there are penis straws in all the glasses. The table in the corner that I set up for the cake is now filled with cupcakes with little penis cake toppers.
“Dear, what is this?” my mother asks me with a forced smile on her face. My father is holding a glass
