“I would pay to see that,” Uncle Drew adds.
“Eeeeew, seriously?” I ask in disgust.
“Dude, not you. That’s just gross,” he reassures me. “But Jenny? Totally. You should put Jenny on your site taking her clothes off. I’ve already got a few good shots of her ass on my cell phone I can send you.”
He pulls his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and starts scrolling through his pictures. “Oh, man, I forgot about this one. Remember when we rented the dolphin costume and recorded that public service announcement?”
Aunt Jenny forgets about my site and her face lights up. “Yes! The pasa! That was so much fun!”
“What’s a pasa?” I ask in confusion, looking back and forth between them.
“She means PSA,” Uncle Drew tells me.
“Right. PSA. It’s pronounced pasa,” Aunt Jenny adds.
“It’s not pronounced anything, babe. It’s just called a PSA. It’s an acronym,” Uncle Drew explains.
“Do I even want to ask what this dolphin PSA is about?”
Uncle Drew sits down at the table next to Aunt Jenny and looks at me seriously. “It’s an epidemic that is spreading far and wide. People just have no idea what is happening right under their noses. It’s scary and dangerous and they need to be aware. Jenny and I took it upon our selves to educate the world. I can’t believe you haven’t seen the video. It’s been all over YouTube.”
Aunt Jenny nods and grabs Uncle Drew’s hands. “We read an article about it online and we just knew we had to do something. So, we made a video talking about the dangers of dolphin rape and we posted it online. We’ve received a ton of messages from people thanking us for our information.”
“I’m sorry, did you say dolphin rape? Like, what? Dolphins raping other dolphins?” I ask in confusion.
I know I’m going to regret asking this.
“What? No! That would just be silly. Ava, this is about dolphins raping people. Surely you’ve heard the news,” Uncle Drew adds.
“Every ninety-six seconds someone else is raped by a dolphin. Innocent men and women just enjoying a day at the beach and then BAM! A dolphin latches on and doesn’t let go. They may seem like sweet and innocent creatures but let me tell you, they are not,” Aunt Jenny says with a shiver.
Uncle Drew reaches over and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. “Your aunt had a close call with a dolphin last year on vacation. She doesn’t like to talk about it very much.”
“It was the worst day of my life,” Aunt Jenny wails, burying her face in Uncle Drew’s shoulder.
Every day I wonder how in the hell my parents became friends with Aunt Jenny and Uncle Drew. Today, I am completely baffled.
“Um, wow. That’s… I don’t even know what to say about that,” I tell them, completely at a loss for words.
“It’s okay, not many people know how to handle a situation like this. It’s why we started D.R.A.W. It’s a place where people like your Aunt Jenny can meet once a week and talk about their horrific experiences,” Uncle Drew explains.
“And D.R.A.W. would stand for….” I prompt, even though I know I’m going to regret it.
“Dolphin Rape Awareness Workshop,” Aunt Jenny finishes for me. “Although the meetings don’t take place in a workshop. We just couldn’t think of another word that started with W.”
I’m not sure my brain can take much more information. I really need to bring this conversation back around to my reason for coming here.
“So, anyway. You said you could make some graphics for my site and make it look a little more professional?”
Aunt Jenny pushes away from Uncle Drew and sits up a little straighter. She turns back towards my laptop screen and studies it for a few seconds.
“Sure, no problem. It should only take me a few days. Just write down your password for me,” she tells me.
“Well, if you two ladies will excuse me, I have a meeting to get to,” Uncle Drew tells us, getting up from his chair and making his way to the front door.
“Meeting? What meeting? You didn’t mention that you had a meeting today,” Aunt Jenny says as she pushes a piece of paper and a pen towards me so I can write down my log-in information.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just have to see this guy… about a thing. Just… this… thing and a guy with a thing… that I need to see,” Uncle Drew stammers as he grabs his keys from the side table by their front door.
“Okay, well have a good time!” Aunt Jenny tells him brightly as he rushes out the front door.
I stare at her as she clicks away at my computer. After a few seconds she looks up at me questioningly. “What?”
“He has to see a ‘guy’ about a ‘thing’?” I repeat, using air quotes.
“That’s what he said.”
I continue to stare at her. “And you don’t think that sounds a little bit suspicious?”
“Suspicious how? He knows lots of guys who have things that need to be looked at,” she tells me seriously.
I decide to let it go for now, mostly because Uncle Drew isn’t here to act as interpreter while I’m talking to Aunt Jenny. I have more important things to worry about right now, like how I can find a way to make money on this website so I can quit working at Seduction and Snacks without giving my mom a heart attack.
Chapter 10 – I Like Mushrooms
“Do you want me to come in with you or stay in the car?” Gavin asks as he pulls up to Quick and Delicious, the diner where I’m meeting my…father.
Jesus, it feels so weird so say that.
“Come in. No, stay in the car. Wait, no, come in. SHIT! I don’t know what the f**k to do!” I complain as Gavin puts the car in park and shuts off the engine.
“Just take a deep breath, this is going to be fine. Just because you share the same DNA means nothing. Your dad who raised you is still your dad,” Gavin reminds me. “Did the company send you that email with his name?”
I grab my phone from the center console and pull up the email app. They sent me an email after we hung up the phone yesterday, but I was too afraid to look at it then.
“This can’t be right,” I mutter, as I stare at the email from Cryobiology, Inc.
Gavin leans over and glances at the email I pulled up.
“His name is Dean O’Saur? That’s got to be a typo,” Gavin states.
I close out of the email and open it back up, hoping we both read something wrong.
“Dude, your dad is T-Rex. This may be the best news you’ve gotten all week!” Gavin says with a laugh.
I groan and throw my head back against the seat.
“T-Rex be like, ‘I can’t make my bed with these tiny arms’,” Gavin says, pulling his elbows into his sides and flapping his hands around.
“This is not funny,” I complain.
He continues. “T-Rex be like, ‘Raaaawr, that was a good performance, I’m going to clap now. Oh, wait.’”
He continues flailing his hands until I reach over and punch him in the arm.
Gavin finally drops his arms and sighs. “Just don’t be a dick right off the bat. It’s not like he got drunk and had a one-night-stand with your mom and then didn’t speak to her again for like a ton of years.”
I look over at him and raise my eyebrow.
“Fuck! I just described MY dad. Well, this sucks,” he complains.
“I’m just going to go in there, see if we look anything like one another and then leave,” I tell him.
Gavin nods. “Good plan. Get his medical history too. If there’s a history of mental illness then at least you know your problems are hereditary, T-Rex, Jr.”
“I’m going to drag you out of this car and beat the f**k out of you,” I warn him, reaching for the door handle.
With one last fortifying breath, I shove open the door and step out of the car.
“Oh, you should give him some My Little Pony trivia questions. If he gets them wrong, you know he’s not really your dad,” Gavin shouts as I flip him off before slamming the door closed.
Really, what’s the big deal with the fact that I like My Little Pony? I know for a fact I’m not the only one. I Googled it. There’s an entire following of people just like me who appreciate that friendship is magic. If Gavin took one second to watch the videos I gave him, he would realize that they are relatable, endearing ponies that have meaningful developments in their lives. If more people liked My Little Pony, world peace wouldn’t be an issue, I guarantee it. You just can’t watch that show without feeling happy. I also can’t watch that show without getting horny.
I walk through the doors of Quick and Delicious, scanning the restaurant for a dude in his forties who looks like me. After a quick glance, I don’t see anyone that fits the bill. I walk up to the hostess counter and wait for one of the waitresses to finish cashing someone out.
“Hi, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here. His name is Dean,” I tell her. I refuse to give his full name to anyone ever, even a complete stranger. That shit needs to stay quiet.
She smiles at me as she comes around the counter. “Yep, he’s been here for a few minutes. Right this way.”
My palms start to sweat and I feel like I’m going to puke as I follow her through the restaurant. I get more and more nervous with each table we walk by and I contemplate turning around and running back out to the car.
Why the hell am I doing this? Gavin is right. Nick Branson is my father, for all intents and purposes. He taught me how to play catch, he bought me my first My Little Pony and he passed down his p**n collection to me when I turned eighteen. I couldn’t ask for a better father. I shouldn’t feel like I don’t know who I am just because I suddenly found out the man who raised me doesn’t share the same DNA as me. It shouldn’t matter.
And yet, it does.
What if I need a kidney transplant and the only match is this guy? What if my sperm doesn’t work and the only way I can get my future wife pregnant with a baby who shares my DNA is by using this guy’s sperm? I have to do this. I have to be strong and do this for the health of my kidneys and for the lives of my future children. It wouldn’t be weird at all that their grandfather is also their father, right? I mean, people do that shit all the time and you never hear anyone say, “This is my grandpa-dad” when they’re introduced. It will be fine. It will all be just fine.
“Here we go, I’ll be right back to take your drink order.”
The woman smiles at me and walks away and I get my first glimpse of my father. He’s got the same blonde hair as I do, but that’s about the only similarity I see.
The man smiles up at me as I slide into the booth.
“So, you’re Dean,” I state, breaking the silence after a few seconds.
“I like mushrooms,” he replies.
Uh, okay.
“Did you know a female swine will always have an even number of teats? Usually twelve,” he adds, the smile never leaving his face.
Thankfully, our waitress comes over and I’m saved from having to comment on pig nipples. She takes our drink orders and leaves us alone again.
“So, thanks for agreeing to see me. I know when you do this sort of thing you never expect to actually meet one of your kids,” I tell him with a nervous laugh.
“I like to smell magic markers. Purple is my favorite smell,” Dean says, his smile growing even wider.
Oh, my God. They really scraped the bottom of the sperm think tank for my mom, didn’t they?
I guess it’s random fact time at this Father-Son event.
“Yeah, well, I like to give my balls names that coincide with holidays,” I admit, trying to get him to do something other than smile at me.
“Every time you lick a stamp, you consume 1/10 of a calorie. So far today I’ve had twenty-five calories. I like stamps.”
The waitress drops off our drinks and as she turns to leave, I grab onto her arm and pull her close to me.
“Please tell me you made a mistake and sat me at the wrong table,” I beg as I whisper in her ear.
She glances across the table and then back at me. “Nope, that’s Dean. He was really excited about meeting his son. But just so you know, he’s already eaten four paper napkins and he’s got one in his hand right now under the table.”
She stands up and pats me on the back before walking away again.
“Dean, give me the napkin,” I tell him, reaching across the table with my palm up.
He shakes his head at me and frowns.
“Give me the napkin right now. You can’t eat napkins, Dean.”
I give him a stern look and he slowly lifts his hand out from under the table, a small napkin clutched in his fist. He reaches towards my hand and right when he’s about to drop the napkin into it, he quickly pulls his hand back and shoves the entire thing in his mouth.
I stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes as he chews.
“The average human can eat two pounds of paper before risking a bowel obstruction,” Dean mumbles through his mouthful of paper.
As the waitress comes back to take our food order, I let my head drop to the table with a thunk.
Chapter 11 – I Will Not Have Sex With Tyler
“Look, I told you it’s fine with Gavin and I if you stay here until you can find your own place. But do you really think going out and getting drunk tonight is a good idea? You just got in a fight with mom. Maybe you should just stay in. We can pig out on ice cream and watch movies,” Charlotte suggests.
I know she means well, but staying here is not going to happen. I’m depressed and pissed off and sitting around watching her and Gavin be all cutesy with one another is just going to push me over the edge.