Baking and Babies (Chocoholics #3)(69)

“Did she say she’s getting locked up? I didn’t know Molly was going to prison,” someone whispers loudly.

I turn my head and realize I sat down at Molly’s grandfather’s table and he’s currently giving me the stink eye while Sue shakes her head sadly and he chews on a toothpick.

“Skull-f*cker,” Molly’s grandpa mouths silently, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth and pointing it at me.

I swallow nervously and turn back around to watch the train wreck in front of me, wondering if I should go up there and take the microphone away from Molly or if that would just make things worse.

One of the groomsmen leans to the side and holds his hand out for the microphone and Molly smacks him on the hand with it.

“Fuck off! I’m in the middle of something here,” Molly shouts when she brings the mic back up to her mouth. “Where was I?”

Yep, going up there would probably be worse.

She grabs one of the trays from the appetizer table and unsteadily carries it back to her original spot behind the bride and groom.

“Oh, yeah,” she continues, dropping the tray onto the table next to Charlotte. “So, this one day I was minding my own business, and then BAM, I was suddenly knocked up. And here’s the funny thing, I hadn’t even had sex! I know, right?”

Charlotte drops her head to the table and Molly laughs.

“Well, I mean, there was this one time with Pez Penis but that doesn’t count, and then like, fifteen times with a guy I thought loved me and those TOTALLY count and they were awesome because he doesn’t have a Pez Penis, but he’s a liar and he lied and I threw up on his penis and everything and he still lied,” Molly says with a sniffle.

“Did she say she threw up on a penis?” Sue whispers.

“God dammit, you heard that? There goes my Wednesday blow jobs,” Molly’s grandfather grumbles.

“DAMN YOU, TOM BRADY!”

I don’t even need to turn my head to see who yelled that, especially when I hear Jenny tell him to shut the hell up because Molly is trying to confess her sins to cleanse Aurora.

“I’m so happy my sister married the love of her life and had the most perfect wedding ever,” Molly continues. “I’m so glad she gets to live happily ever after when my life sucks and it never would have sucked in the first place if I didn’t have Cletus the Fetus and a liar liar-pants baby daddy who can’t get it up!”

This half of the room all whip their heads in my direction with shocked expressions on their face and I throw my hands up in the air.

“It was a soufflé, dammit! I collapsed a soufflé,” I tell them.

“Say it with a French accent, dude! It doesn’t sound as pervy that way!” Tyler shouts from the back of the room.

“Is Molly drunk? Isn’t that bad for the baby?” Uncle Carter asks his wife.

“Oh yeah, she’s trashed. Just wait for it,” Claire tells him with a smile.

“Is there something I need to know?” Jim questions Liz.

“You just sit there and look pretty, honey,” Liz says with a smile, patting the top of his hand.

“I’d like everyone to raise their glasses and toast the happy, perfect couple sitting right here looking all happy and perfect,” Molly tells the room.

While everyone awkwardly lifts their glasses, Molly grabs a huge handful of something from the tray she dropped to the table and then taps Charlotte on the head with the microphone.

Charlotte slowly lifts her head as Molly sticks her hand right up to her face.

“What the hell are you doing? Get that away from me,” Charlotte whines, the microphone just barely picking up her words.

“What’s wrong, Charlotte? It’s just some cured meats from your antipasto appetizer. Mmmmmmm, meat. Don’t they smell good? Like meat. Mmmmmmm lunchmeat,” Molly says into the microphone, waving a fist full of cold cuts in front of Charlotte’s nose.

Charlotte covers her mouth with one hand and shakes her head back and forth frantically.

“Smell the meat, Charlotte, SMELL IT!” Molly yells.

“This is a very strange wedding toast,” one of the guests whispers loudly from another table.

Charlotte tries to back away from Molly’s meat holding hand, but Molly moves right along with her and smacks her hand full of cold cuts against Charlotte’s chest. They stick to her skin as Molly pulls her hand away and laughs into the microphone.

Charlotte takes one horrified look down at the meat stuck to her chest and her cheeks puff out as she leans forward and throws up all over the table.

The room explodes in a chorus of groans and a couple of gags, but Gavin’s voice can still be heard above the noise.

“Shit! I thought you said your flu was finally gone?” he asks his new bride, grabbing a napkin to help her wipe her mouth.

“She doesn’t have the flu, you dumbass!” Molly informs him. “She’s got the meat sweats, isn’t that right, Charlotte?”

Charlotte’s hand flies back to her mouth, and she turns her head to glare at Molly.

“Stop talking about meat!” she screams behind her hand.

“Fine. SOUP, SOUP, SOUP! CREAMY SOUP, CHUNKY SOUP, GREASY, LUMPY, SOUP, SOUP, SOUP!” Molly yells into the microphone.

Charlotte’s eyes get so wide I’m surprised they don’t pop out of her head. Sweat drips down from her forehead and she quickly presses her other hand on top of the first one, holding them both as hard as she can against her mouth.