Love and Lists (Chocoholics) by Tara Sivec Read Free Book Online Page B

dammit!
    “We’ll also have a cheesecake. A whole cheesecake. And so will those ladies over there.”
    “I’m pretty sure those ladies are already eating cheesecake,” the waitress tells me.
    Can you just help me the fuck out already?!
    “Really, I don’t need a whole bottle of wine. Or an entire cheesecake.”
    “We’ll just have one of everything on the menu.”
    Take THAT, Rocco!
    “I think I’ll give you guys a few minutes,” the waitress mumbles.
    “No, no, it’s fine. He’ll have the Steak Diane, medium-well, I’ll have the French onion soup with a side salad and Italian dressing, and we’ll each have a glass of Moscato,” Charlotte explains with a smile as she hands the waitress her own menu.
    And just like that, the next item on the list dies a slow, painful, emasculating death.

 
     
    It’s probably best if I take a few days off from the list. My mental state demands it. It’s the last Friday of the month and that means Chicken Paprikash day. My mom makes the best Chicken Paprikash in the world and always invites a few people over when she makes it once a month. Tonight, my grandfather and his wife Sue are going to be joining us.
    My grandfather George is pretty bad-ass. For the first few years of my life we lived with him, and I have some of the best memories ever from that time. He always let me watch whatever I wanted on TV, and I could swear as long as I never told my mom. My grandfather is the king of stringing together long, completely inappropriate words that hardly ever make sense but sound good coming out of his mouth when he’s pissed off. He used to let me practice my run-on sentence curses until one day I said “Shit-poop-hell-freak-monkey” and I was banned from cursing. He shook his head at me sadly and told me he was disappointed in my lack of effort.
    I haven’t seen Pops in a few weeks, and since the entire freaking family is now aware of my love for Charlotte, I’m assuming he is too since my mom can’t keep her mouth shut. Hopefully he’ll be able to give me some good advice. He’s been married twice; he’s got to have something useful for me.
    I walk into my parents’ house without knocking and see my grandfather sitting on the couch watching the Game Show Network. What is it with old people watching game shows? When I’m old, please don’t let me ever fall asleep in my recliner watching reruns of Family Feud.
    “It’s about time you got here. There’s too much estrogen in this house,” Pops complains as he lowers the volume on the TV.
    “Where is everyone?” I ask.
    “Sue’s in the kitchen with your mother and Sophie.”
    “Dad’s here, isn’t he?”
    “Like I said, too much estrogen,” Pops deadpans.
    Flopping down on the couch next to him, I let out a great big sigh.
    When Pops doesn’t say anything, I sigh again, hoping he’ll get the hint.
    “Just spit it out, kid. You know I don’t do the whole touchy-feely thing, so don’t expect me to ask you what’s wrong.”
    I should be used to his crass bedside manner by now, but I’m not. Being subtle isn’t one of his strong suits.
    “So, there’s this girl I’m in love with—”
    “Yeah, Charlotte, I heard,” he interrupts. “She’s not out of your league, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    Well thanks a lot. I wasn’t thinking that at all until now.
    “She doesn’t know that I’m in love with her. We’ve known each other since birth, and it’s a little hard to just come right out and tell her at this point,” I explain.
    “Stop being a pussy and just tell her,” Pops replies.
    “But what if she doesn’t love me back?”
    Pops shrugs and turns back to the TV. “Then grow a pair and get over it. Jesus mother of fuck Christ in a piss shithole, dick for brains, the answer is bathtub.”
    Well, this little talk sure helped to boost my confidence. As I get up from the couch to go in the kitchen and check on dinner, Pops grabs my arm and pulls me back down next to