This motherfucker!
“Yeah, well, I got the idea from him, as he needed a mold of my breasts because he wanted to make a pillow to sleep on when he was away.”
Sanders looks over at Wilder, who raises his hand and says, “Guilty. She has great tits.”
God, does nothing faze him?
“Were you offended by the breast pillow?” Sanders asks me as he tosses the ball in his hand back and forth.
“I was offended when he pierced it,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “He’s been begging me to get my nipples pierced, and it’s just not for me, so when he pierced the breast pillow, it was like a slap to the face.”
Ha, take that, you fuck.
Wilder turns toward me and says in a reserved tone, “You said on our honeymoon that you’d get them pierced after I got my dick pierced for you.” He wets his lips. “So you can just use my dick piercing for your personal pleasure, but I can’t even get one goddamn nipple?”
The challenge in his eyes spurs something inside me, and before I can stop myself, I yell, “I told you my nipples are too small for it, yet you consistently make me feel bad over and over again about not piercing them.”
“The guy at the shop said he could do smaller barbells.” Wilder’s voice raises.
“At a higher expense,” I shout back.
Wilder’s face contorts into pure anger. “And I told you, I don’t care about the expense. There’s no price I wouldn’t pay for you to have that experience.”
Sanders holds up his hand. “Okay, we’re going to pause right here.” He lets out a deep breath. “I see there’s a lot of deep-seated animosity between the two of you, and that’s what today is about. Today’s about getting it all out there, not holding back anything that might be sitting on your chest. So I’d likeyou to get comfortable, because we’re about to get down to the nitty-gritty.”
I glance over at Wilder, facing off. Seems like he has no intention of keeping this tight and pulled together. So I slip my shoes off my feet, turn toward him completely, and sit cross-legged.
Let the games begin.
“It started when he stepped on Velcro,” I say.
“They were brand-new, expensive socks,” Wilder snaps. “The Velcro was going to tear them apart, and then what, I’m just going to flush fifteen dollars down the drain?”
“Maybe don’t buy the expensive socks,” I counter.
“Says the girl who has caveman feet. You know my feet are sensitive. You know if my socks touch me in a weird way, I can’t walk properly. That’s how I ended up with that lopsided gait.”
“You ended up with that lopsided gait because there was a rock in your shoe.”
“There was not a rock in my shoe. Stop saying that. You make me sound like a crazy man.”
“Because you are,” I shout. “You’re crazy. You ruined an entire day at the pumpkin farm because you stepped on Velcro. Velcro, Wilder! Who ruins a day over Velcro?”
“The people whose socks get destroyed from it!”
“You should have seen her,” Wilder says as he walks back and forth in front of the sliding glass window, tossing Sanders’s baseball. “The look of utter satisfaction on her face as Irummaged and rummaged and rummaged, looking for the lid. Sitting there, on her high perch, looking down at me as if I was her Tupperware peasant, and the entire time, she knew there was no matching lid. Fucking knew the whole time.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I told him he needed to organize the drawers. He needed to learn a lesson.”
“You got rid of it on purpose.” He points at me. “Vindictive, that’s what you are.”
“Lazy.” I point back at him. “Utterly lazy. You can’t do one thing when asked.”
“Oh really?” he says, stepping up. “So when you asked me to pick you up pads with wings, did I not deliver?”
My face falls flat. “You came back with pads…and buffalo wings.”
“That’s what you said, pads with wings.” He turns to Sanders, whose eyes are bouncing back and forth between the two of us. “She said pads with wings! What the hell am I supposed to assume?”
