Tara Sivec - Passion and Ponies

He replies immediately, asking me if I’ve forgiven him yet and it makes me wonder if he’s been sitting there for five days with his phone in his hand waiting for me to respond. This just makes me angrier because I kind of like the idea of a guy waiting around for me. I just don’t like the idea that it’s Tyler doing the waiting. He needs to go away.

Tossing my phone on my bed, I abandon my blog post, no longer as excited about it as I was, and make my way into the kitchen. Even though I’m not keen on being a part of the family business, I still like the things that are part of that business, namely, baking. I pull out all of the ingredients I need and get busy making some cupcakes. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I certainly don’t want anywhere near Tyler’s heart, but maybe a few dozen cupcakes dusted with rat poison will finally make him realize I don’t want him.

The first batch of cupcakes is on a rack cooling and I’m whipping up some frosting, when I hear the front door open. Glancing up from the mixing bowl, I see my Aunt Claire walk into the room.

“I smelled baked goods as soon as I pulled in the driveway. Ooooh, cupcakes. What kind?” she asks, coming around the counter and bending down to look in the oven.

My Aunt Claire isn’t really my aunt, just my mom’s long-time best friend and business partner. She’s the one who runs the sweet side of Seduction and Snacks and she taught me everything I know about baking.

“Chocolate chip cookie dough cupcakes with chocolate ganache icing,” I tell her as I turn off the mixer and grab a spatula.

“Alright, out with it,” Aunt Claire tells me as she turns around and perches on one of the bar stools across the counter from me.

“Out with what?” I ask her innocently, making sure not to make eye contact.

“You only bake when someone pisses you off or you’re upset about something, so spill. Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

I should have known that Aunt Claire would realize something was wrong as soon as she walked in the door. She practically raised me and can read me like a book.

“Several people have pissed me off lately. My ‘People to Kill’ list has grown by leaps and bounds in the past few weeks,” I admit.

“Well, that’s nothing new. You hate people. Be more specific,” she tells me, swiping her finger into the bowl of frosting and bringing it to her mouth. “Add a teaspoon of almond extract to that.”

Turning away from her, I reach into the spice cabinet above the stove and grab the almond. I’m not really ready to discuss how disappointed I am in my mom for not understanding my future career choices with anyone, but especially not my mom’s best friend. If I asked her to, she would keep my secret, but I don’t want to have to put her in the position of keeping something from her best friend, so I go with the easier target.

“Tyler. He’s gotten a little taste of the Amazing Ava and now he won’t go away,” I joke, adding the almond to the frosting and mixing it in.

“I’m assuming that’s why you have six boxes of chocolate-flavored laxatives sitting here next to the container of sugar?” Aunt Claire asks, lifting up one of the boxes and raising her eyebrows at me.

I shrug. “We didn’t have any rat poison. I figure if he’s shitting his brains out he’ll be too busy to bug me.”

Aunt Claire gets up from the stool and starts rummaging through the pantry until she finds what she needs. With her arms full of pastry bags, decorator tips and pre-made frosting, she comes back to the counter and dumps everything on top.

“I’m going to kick your mom’s ass for buying this shit frosting in a tub, but it will save us some time,” Aunt Claire tells me as she scoops some of the vanilla frosting from the tub into a pastry bag and adds the standard round tip to the end of it.

“Let’s give Tyler’s ass a break and do something a lot more fun,” Aunt Claire tells me.

I start to say something about how he didn’t give my ass a break, but I’m not ready to get into that with her, either. I watch over her shoulder as she begins piping words onto the cupcakes. Her handwriting with frosting is flawless and beautiful, even with the words she’s chosen to adorn the top of the cupcakes.

I read them out loud, confused a little at the last one. “Smelly crotch, dick biscuit, taint licker…shart fucker?”

Aunt Claire pauses and moves the pastry bag away from the cupcake. “Yeah, I’m running out of ideas.”

She continues writing random things on the cupcakes and we’re both silent for a few minutes as I watch her work, putting as much concentration into these cupcakes as she does with a wedding cake she makes for a stranger.

After a little while, she finally breaks the silence. “You know, Tyler might be immature, but he does have a little bit of sweetness in him, even if it’s kind of fucked up. He’s loyal to a fault and will do anything for one of his friends. Plus, his mom’s more of a slut than your mom, so there’s that.”

I can’t help but laugh and I’m thankful that my aunt decided to stop by. I still need to end things with Tyler once and for all, but maybe I can stop being such a bitch to him. After I give him these cupcakes, of course.

Aunt Claire finishes the last one, pulling back to examine her masterpieces. “There, all done. I have to stop by Seduction and Snacks after this. Want me to hand deliver them?” she asks.

I nod my head, my eyes zeroing in on the last cupcake. I quickly snatch it from the counter. “Yes, but not this one. He can’t have this one.”

She watches in shock as I shove the entire thing in my mouth. “Hey, that was my favorite one! What’s wrong with Ass Captain?”

- Tyler -

“Tyler, what the hell are you doing?”

Looking up from the mess surrounding me, I see Gavin standing at the end of the aisle where I’m currently sitting on the floor. It’s the end of my first week at Seduction and Snacks and really, I should be ecstatic. Every tour I did of the warehouse went smoothly, I answered all the questions thrown at me expertly and I started up a competition with the warehouse workers that’s already starting to boost morale. I’m going to have to set a few ground rules for Vibrator Sword Fight Fridays so we don’t almost lose an eye again, but other than that, I’m pleased with my performance. Shoving a handful of ice cubes into the penis-shaped pillow we carry went a long way towards calming Scott Jameson down after the Racing Rocket came close to making him a Cyclops. Obviously the penis pillow didn’t make him happy, but we don’t carry a vagina pillow. The ice brought down the swelling on his eye and he promised not to sue us for assault with a deadly weapon.

Unfortunately, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Ava won’t return my calls or that I might find out today who my dad is.

“Well, Gavin, I’m sitting on the floor surrounded by vibrators and pocket pussies. Obviously I’m trying to think,” I tell him, lying down on my back in the middle of the pile and swiping my arms and legs against the floor.

“Are you making a dildo angel?” Gavin asks, walking down the aisle until he’s standing right next to me.

I sit back up and carefully stand, making sure not to disrupt my masterpiece. Jumping over the toys on the floor, I stand next to Gavin and we stare down at my pretty dildo angel.

“I heard you talked to my Aunt Liz about the whole birth certificate thing,” he finally says.

“Yep. She told me to take my time getting her the real thing and that she’d pay me under the table until then.”

I thought for sure Ava’s mom was going to fire my ass when I told her I couldn’t get her a copy of my birth certificate for the employment forms. She just smiled at me and told me not to worry about it, which is very unlike her. Obviously either Tyler or Ava had already explained the situation to her and she felt sorry for me. Awesome. Yet another person who pities me. I didn’t mind it so much the other night with Ava because it meant she’d sleep with me. I don’t like everyone else looking at me like I’m some sad, pathetic, fatherless dude.

“Did you tell your parents you called the sperm bank to have them pull the records?”

I nod and we turn to walk away from my angel, making our way into the offices. “I had to. The place wouldn’t release any personal information unless my mom went in and signed a few papers saying she was okay with me finding out who my dad is. They’re supposed to call me today with the guy’s name and phone number so I can contact him.”

Unfortunately, they can only give me the name of the guy who donated the sperm. That doesn’t mean he’s my real father since my mom was a slut.

Goddammit!

We walk into the break room and take a seat at the table.

“And how do you feel about that?” Gavin asks.

The thing about Gavin is, he’s a genuinely good guy no matter how much I’ve tried to corrupt him. He’s always been a good friend and I know he’s worried about my mental health right now, but I don’t feel like hashing this out with anyone. I just want to get this thing over with, find out who my dad is and beat the shit out of him. Then, I can go on with my life and never have to think about the guy ever again.

“Can we stop pretending like we have vaginas? I don’t want to talk about my feelings, Dr. Phil. How about we talk about the fact that I got anal the other night at your house,” I tell him proudly, leaning back in my chair and clasping my hands behind my head.

“Correction, you accidentally had anal and you barely got the tip in. You’re forgetting that you’re sleeping with my girlfriend’s sister. They tell each other everything,” Gavin laughs.