"Why do I have to wear a girly pink tie?" Teddy asks as I perfect his Windsor knot outside the preschool class just before we enter the festivities—ham and son.

"It's Valentine's Day," I say. I can barely bend over in this fucking pink rubber monstrosity they've got me in. I look like a gigantic whoopee cushion, only if I was, at least I could let the hot air out. "And girls like a man in a suit. Now, comb your hair like I taught you."

He nods and takes the comb I gave him out of his inside jacket pocket and slicks his hair back tight on the sides. I step away and take a look. That Armani suit is really something. He looks exactly like a little me. Well, if I didn't have pineapple rings adhered to various parts of my poor man's prosciutto.

"Do you think I shoulda shaved?" Teddy asks.

"No, I think you're just clear of a five o'clock shadow."

"But, it's not even lunchtime," he says, seemingly horrified at what might happen to his facial follicles by dinner.

"Don't worry, you look great," I say. "Now, do you have your Valentine's presents?"

He nods and picks up his backpack. It looks like he's armed with explosives carrying that thing. Poetically, maybe he is. I pray to God this girl doesn't break his heart.

"You know what you're going to say?"

"Would you..." He looks up at the ceiling like he's thinking. "Would you be my valentine 'cause I bought you stuff if you be it."

"Don't say the "bought you stuff" part. Just ask her to be your valentine." Ana would've smacked me upside the head if I ever used that line. Actually, if you replace submissive with valentine, I kind of did.

"Okay, you ready?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says, with a bit of trepidation, adjusting his collar and wiping his brow with his own monogrammed handkerchief that Gail has of course provided. Like father like son.

He looks up at me. "Dad, if the butterflies in my tummy get too many, can they explode and make me dead?"

"No. You're a Grey man," I say. "You can do this. Besides, butterflies aren't a bad thing. In fact, if I get them before a big meeting I tell them, "troops, help me out here," and they usually help me land the deal."

"You talk to the bugs in your tummy and they help you with your big work?" he asks, amazed.

"Often better than the sheep I employ." I laugh. "Or the snakes."

"You got a lot of animals at work," Teddy says.

"Tell me about it." I laugh. "It's a jungle out there."

I open the door and lead him through. It's a jungle in here.

We walk into what I'd imagine you'd get if Mr. Roger's Neighborhood and the Hallmark store had a rave. The place is wall-to-wall populated by school children high on cupcake frosting and glitter carded love passing out hugs and conversation candies to each other like it's the common cold. They're probably passing that around, too. I swear there's so much hearts and flowers action going on around here it would've made twenty-seven-year-old me run for my life. Since when did Kreative Kidz become  Tindr for the Kinder set?

"Okay son," I say. "Do you see her?"

"She's in the yard by the teeter totter until five minutes before recess is over."

"Every day?"

He nods." She watches us play there."

"She doesn't play herself?"

"Not really. She has to keep her dresses clean and watch out for Miss Tilly."

This is really weird. Although, she sounds like me at that age, just sitting and watching at recess. Maybe she has control issues or OCD or something. Geez, I hope she's not a junior miss nut job.

"Okay. Well, I think now is your opportunity." I look at my watch. "Only two minutes before she leaves her part of the totter. You'd better hurry! Remember, confidence."

He nods and takes off. And I realize what a milestone this is. I've just sent my son off to see about a girl. I'm still not sure what girl and since he's taken off to the play yard I disappointedly can't see the exchange. But, I'm so proud of my boy.

Speaking of boys seeing about girls, I look around for that little fucker Dukey Nutweiler. I haven't seen him yet. Ana's taken Phoebe to get ready for the show with Kate and Ava, and though she rolled her eyes at my worry, she agreed to inform me if there was a snot nosed Dukey sighting.  As soon as I see him with that arrow headed for Phoebe, he's going down.

"I'm gonna kiss Jennifer and Jillian and Sierra..." some little shit dressed as a marshmallow, I suppose for the hot cocoa number in the play, says as he knocks on my ham.

"Do you know Phoebe?" I ask.

He nods. "She hits me when I mess with her ponies." Best news I've heard all day.

"You're not gonna kiss her."

"Why not?"

"Because if you do her father will blow up all your video games."

"How will he do that?" he asks, scrunching his face.

"He's Darth Vader."

"Really?" His eyes get wider than the galaxy far far away.

"Yes. And get the word out."

He runs off and I think tells one of his cocoa mug contingency.

"Are you a heart?" Elliot asks me as he approaches dressed as fucking Romeo.

"A heart?" I ask. I'm barely able to hear or move in this thing they have me in. "How the fuck do I look like a heart?"

"Not like a love heart, a real heart," he says. "You know, like the one you don't have." He laughs. 

"No, I'm not a heart, I'm a ham."

"I never thought you liked attention." He's really laughing at me now. Fucker.

"Not a stage ham, a real ham."

"Well, you're about to take the stage as one, so technically you're both." My brother finds it fucking hysterical. I'm surprised his humor hasn't delved to toilet level to the point of heart-on jokes.

"What do you think these pineapple rings are?" I ask, pointing to my chest.

"I thought that was like cholesterol deposits." He laughs again.

"I wouldn't be laughing, you're wearing pink tights."

"That's burgundy, man," he says, seriously all of a sudden.

"Congratulations." His leg hair is sticking through. It's quite disgusting. Maybe I should've called Franco to wax him down.

"Hey bro, when the women are lookin' for lovin' they think gimme that Romeo. They don't think gimme that ham."

Wisdom for the ages.

"Well, good thing I'm not interested in any looking."

"Tell me you're not looking at that." Elliot raises a brow and nods in the direction of a college aged girl in a short skirt who passes by us.

"I'm not." I adjust the meat that's scratching my balls. Damn this thing is hotter and tighter inside on my cock than a gas station condom in the middle of a Louisiana summer.

She swishes by and starts adjusting Harry Diamonte's peanut butter sandwich ensemble in the distance. Harry, that moron. He's a low brow lawyer that advertises on TV to attract class action suits. He gives group discounts if he gets twelve or more jokes trying to sue, calling it the "Diamonte Diamond a Dozen" rate. And he argues about everything—politics, religion, if the weather's going to change. He actually argued that being a sandwich instead of just a jar of peanut butter was a better message to send out to the kids because it inferred that the peanut butter had made something of himself and isn't just sitting on the shelf waiting for life to happen. This guy has serious issues that go well beyond his nut butter.

"You're telling me back in the day you wouldn't have hit that?"

"Yes." I roll my eyes. "Don't you have a wife?" I ask, looking around for Juliet herself in the form of Satan. 

"Bro, loosen up, a man can appreciate the goods of opposing supermarkets without buying the cans." Elliot is such a cad. He keeps watching as she swishes her ass over to Jelly. Jelly being an eighty-five-year-old great grandma who always insists on taking part in these shows because, as she puts it, she missed her calling for the stage. I didn't see Harry making that argument about Grandma Jenkins remaining in her jelly jar on a shelf for her whole life. Sexist pig.

"Well, appreciate your blue light special another time, your wife and mine are coming this way with our children." Honestly, you can take the whore out of the man, but you can't take the man out of the whore.

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo," Kate says, on approach. Oh lord. Kate reciting Shakespeare is like Boone singing Sinatra with a chest cold.

"Hear Ye, Hear Ye, I'm right here for the taking, babe." He pulls her in for a kiss and the kids giggle. Oh, Mr. Fucking Romantic! He's eyeing some bimbo and I'm old faithful stuck in a ham suit.

"Christian, you look so real!" Ana says, coming up to me.

"Yes, the authenticity of pigs in this place is astounding." I motion to Elliot and Kate and she swats at my pork shoulder. I'm just glad it wasn't my pork loin. "Why aren't we Romeo and Juliet?" I whisper to her and try to nibble at her ear, but there's something thick and hard in my way and it isn't the usual thing.

"Well, for one thing I'm pregnant."

"So? They're in love and so are we." I touch her belly.

"She was thirteen."

"How old was Romeo?"

"I think he was like eighteen or twenty."

"That's disgusting. If I was her father I'd kill him before he killed himself and sent her to the convent."

Speaking of daughters I'd slay for and am seriously considering life for as a nun..."

"Daddy, Daddy," Phoebe says, dressed as the most adorable little cherub I've ever seen. Of course she's the most adorable angel I've ever seen, so it's fitting.

"You look beautiful," I say, and she pretends to stick me with her foam arrow. "You got me!"

"Now you'll fall in love with the first one you see," she says.

"Don't look at me, bro," Elliot says, on a break from sucking face with Kavanagh.

"Or me," Kavanagh snarks.

"Trust me," I say.

Of course I look straight at Ana and lean over, as best I can, and give her a sweet kiss.

"It worked!" Phoebe squeals, jumping up and down.

"I want peoples to fall in love with me, too!" Ava says and pulls out a clump of Phoebe's arrows and starts chucking them at unwitting boys. Just like her mother.

I lean in to kiss Ana again, but we're both sidetracked by something jolly, green and giant coming our way.

"Oh my word," Ana says.

"Taylor," I say. "You look..."

"Green, sir," he says, stopping before us. He's supposed to be peas in a pod, but instead he looks like bubbling disease in a boat-like contraption. Sea sickness, now that's funny.

One of his globular things bumps up against me and I notice he's left green markings all over my right side. Great, I'm old ham now.

"The costume is perfect," Gail says, walking up to him and gives her man a kiss on a cheek the color of stomach upset.

"Yes, I really do feel like a vegetable," he says.

"Tay-Looooor!" a purring tongue calls from the distance.

"Oh no," Taylor mumbles and goes stone still.

"Who's that?" Gail asks, but Taylor isn't given time to answer before the purring tongue is calling his name again.

Luciana Arroyo, or what Elliot has nicknamed her, Ta Ta Tammy, coming for us dressed as carrots. Or rather, she's wearing a skin tight orange body suit with a green stem hat. Why does she get to dress like she's visiting the playboy mansion and I look like I was rejected from butcher bargains?

"I think we need to practice our lines, Mis-terrrr Yason," Luciana says with that Columbian accent of hers and grabs Taylor's arm to take him away. 

I've never seen it before, but Gail's face is so red it could boil her fusilli.

"I think I'm good," Taylor says, shifting away from Nympho Carrot.

"No, no! I need to practice with you, Yason. I need to get my parts right."

She pulls him away as he mouths sorry to Gail.

"Why the nerve!" Gail says and starts to lunge for Luciana, but Ana holds her back.

"The play is about to start soon. Why don't we take care of the refreshments?" Ana asks and pulls a not happy Gail along. Maybe she can distract her with food service. It usually works.

"Oh Christian!" my mother says as she, my father, Mia, and my grandparents exit the elevator and walk toward me. "I love seeing you in costume." She puts her arms around my hock. "I always prayed for this day."

"For me to be a ham?" I ask.

She pulls back and looks me earnestly in the eyes. "For you to be a ham for your family." Has she been drinking? If so, maybe she'll share.

"You've been in so many of these plays, son, we thought you were considering a career change," my father laughs.

"No, I won't quit my day job, Dad." Billions for skee ball tickets isn't my style.

"I was a duck when I was little!" Mia says, clapping excitedly.

"No Mia," I say, "That was Swan Lake."

"Oh yeah!"

"Where's my seat? I've been walking for ten minutes. My ass needs a rest! The gravitational pull on my balls is gonna render me useless," my grandfather says, far too loudly.

"Oh quiet, you old goat!" my grandmother says. "You've been useless down there for years!"

"That's not what you said last night!"

"Mom, Dad!" Grace scolds, mortified.

"Hey, family!" Ray says coming up behind us and everyone says their hellos. He cuts his eyes to me. "Are you an eraser, Christian?"

"A ham."

"I didn't know hams were a Valentine's Day thing."

"They're big at this school."

I notice quite happily that he's alone. For once in my life Jose and his father aren't tagging along with Ray. This is the best news ever!

"Hey, we made it!" Speak of the fucking devil, Jose. "We were just parking the car."

Let me guess—his grandmother's best fourth hand jalopy.

"Jose," I grumble. "It wouldn't be a holiday without you."

"I know, right?" What an idiot.

"Uncle Jose!" Phoebe and Ava yell as they run up to him like he was candy bars for breakfast.

"I always gotta be here for my family." His family?! Why are my parents nodding and smiling in agreement? How has he infiltrated my whole damn life?

"You're like a brother!" Mia says and hugs him.

"And another son," my mother says.

What the fuck?!

"Jose doesn't want your germs, he has his own," I say as I pull Mia away.

"Oh I get it! You're like chewed bubble gum!" Jose says, looking me up and down like he just hit the jackpot with his lottery winning guess.

"I'm a ham!"

"That pig shit ruined my father," Jose Sr grimaces and rattles off some indeterminable Spanish. I have no idea what the fuck he is saying. Status quo. 

"Sorry to hear that," I say and he nods. 

"Dad and I brought some flowers for the ladies," Jose says and old man Rodriguez pulls out his golden anniversary auto club duffel bag—probably a gift from his mother's mother, lord knows she needs auto assistance with those death traps she collects— and hands some wildflowers to my mother, sister, grandmother and the girls. I'm not sure, but they could just be some fancy looking weeds. The kind that look like flowers until you remember they just popped up in the middle of some dog shit on a patch of grass after a hard rain.

The women ooh and ahh. What's there to fucking get so excited about? 

"Is this drugs?" my grandmother asks and I have to wonder myself if he didn't slip in some of his favorite pastime.

"No mother," Grace says. "They're exquisite flowers." Exquisite? I bought her lilies!

"Did you grow them yourself?" I ask Jose.

"Nah, I picked them in nature while I was shooting impromptu portraits," he says. Yeah, that's code for picked them off the lawn of a friend who he shot some intoxicated selfies with for Instagram.

"Ooh, that's so exotic," Mia says.

"They're simple flowers, Mia. Ana and I have them all over our property."

"Where is Ana?" Jose asks, craning his neck to look around.

"Busy," I say.

"I wanted to wish her a happy Valentine's Day."

"I'll tell her." Never.

"I also wanted to talk to her about her "with children" pictures."

"Excuse me?" He's trying with this shit again? He's done this twice before during her pregnancies and twice before I nearly slammed his head into my driveway with my car tire. Why can't he get that I don't want him taking nude photos of my pregnant wife?

"Since it's twins, you'll want to really document it this time."

"Yes, I'll want to and I will. Me."

"Cool! Glad you agree! I'll talk to her. Maybe we could do it next week when you're at work so we won't bother you."

I'm about to bother the fuck out of his craning neck with my circling hands, but my arms can't move out that far in this shit.

"My ass!" my grandfather yells.

"Okay, Dad," Grace rushes him away and the rest of them all go to find their seats. I keep an eye out to make sure Ana isn't handed one of those weed bouquets. I realize I've just spent enough to buy an island at Cartier for her Valentine's Day and it's ridiculous to be threatened by lawn blooms, but fuck if anyone else is going to give Ana hearts or flowers but me—ever.

I see Kate and Elliot are running lines in the corner like they're about to put on some tongue-in-throat number. It's a disgrace. Oh, I wish Ana and I were doing that.

"Dad!" Teddy says, upon return.

"Hey, what happened?" I pull him aside. "Did you give her your gifts?"

He shakes his head. "I got too nervous and by the time I got done talking to the butterflies in my tummy, she got busy with play stuff."

"That's okay. You can do it in a little bit."

"Can you do it?"

"What?"

"Please."

"Son, this is your big moment."

"I know, but I think I need a delivery man to do it right."

I'm conflicted, on the one hand I want to teach Teddy to be a man, but on the other hand he's still just a little boy. And I know first hand how nervous you get giving flowers. Even at twenty-eight I recognized the importance of a delivery man.

"Okay, but you'll have to talk to her once she opens everything."

"Thanks, Dad!" He tries to hug me, but I'm so wide, his arms just shoot out straight in a T shape.

"Anytime, Champ." I smile.

"Hey Teddy!" his buddy Fritzy says, out of breath, as he runs up. This kid. "You gots to come see. Richie  says he farted in sandwich bags and gave them to all the girls and told them he caught chocolate chip cookie air when his mom baked cookies, but he didn't and now they're gonna open them and smell his farts!"

What the hell? This is an event?

"Cool!" Teddy says.

They run off, leaving me with the backpack of valentines. Fuck, how am I  supposed to deliver this stuff, nonchalant, dressed like I am? I swear, I hope her father is not here. He gets one looks at me and I'll be lucky if I'm lunch meat. Wait, how do I even know who this girl is?

I move to a secluded corner and start to take out the contents of the bag. He had me write a name on the  card last night: Miss Bentley. I pressed him for her first name, but that's all he would give me and he begged me not to look her up, so I kept my word. It's cute. Kind of formal, but cute. I did tell him to address her properly. And it goes, since I guess I got distracted when I wrote the valentine for him yesterday at work and signed it as Mr. Grey. But hell, how do I find a little girl around here only by her last name without looking incredibly perverse and weird?

"What's that?" It's Ana! Shit.

I turn around to see her standing in front of me, looking at me with my hands all over the glittery valentine.

"Uhh... Nothing." I stuff the valentine back in the bag and hope she hasn't noticed.

"Well, nothing has left pink glitter all over your fingers." 

Damnit. Caught glitter handed.

"Uhh... It's a surprise for later."

"What kind of surprise?"

"Trust me, it's nothing you'll ever guess."

"Is that part of my Valentine's gift?"she tries to sneak a better peek, but I hold it down and away.

"Could be..." The card I made with Phoebe looks similar. She'll never know the difference. I hope. "But, it won't be if you keep peeking."

She smiles and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?"

"For being so sweet."

"Charm won't get you anywhere."

"Oh yeah?" She puts her hands on my waist.

"Except maybe places below there."

She laughs.

"Ana, please. Eyes off my package."  Never thought I'd utter those words.

"Okay," she smiles and gives me a wink. "I can't wait until later." She bites her lip, teasing me, as she walks away.

Fuck. Now I have an erection. This is the one moment I'm thankful for this plastic hell I'm living in.

That was close. There is no way I can be seen delivering this stuff. I'm too much of a spectacle as it is. What am I going to do?

Speaking of spectacles...

"Taylor!" I say, when I see the green peas giant himself at the punch bowl in the distance, downing the stuff like it's a quadruple shot of whiskey.

"Hello, sir," he says as I approach. He looks so frazzled and mixed up he could well be a ladle of split pea soup that accidentally got stuck in the minestrone.

"What's wrong?"

"Rehearsals," he says as way of explanation. Oh right, Luciana.

"Trust me, I get it." I look around to make sure no nosey moms or Tarantula Tilly are in earshot. "Listen, I have a task for you." I pull him behind the felt art boards. "I need you to take this..." I lift Teddy's valentines from the open backpack. "And I need you to deliver it to the name on the card. Don't ask any questions, just do it."

I place the stuff in his hands and he gives me an odd look.

"And don't make a big spectacle of yourself. Make it as secret and seamless as possible. I can't get caught."

"Yes, sir." He walks off to perform his duties.

Shit, I hope this goes smoothly.

Someone is blowing the kazoo that alerts everyone that showtime is near. It sounds more like we're in the middle of a duck hunt. Where is my counterpart anyway? She's been missing. It's not like her not to use every opportunity to breath down my neck with her halitosis issues.  And just as I think it, I know I spoke too soon.

I turn to see the biggest, whitest egg coming my way. And it's not a costume, it's just Tilly. In fact, she's not dressed as eggs at all. She's wearing some sexy-ish (heavy on the ish) lady devil get-up.

"I'm ready for you," she says, and for a moment, as she shakes her hell-tail my way, I wonder if I have indeed suffocated in my costume and am meeting the devil, herself.

"You're  supposed to be eggs!"I say. Jesus, she acts like it's hubba hubba happy hour on a hot Saturday night on the boulevard. 

"I am! I'm deviled eggs." She points to two fried eggs with extremely large yolks stuck near her breast area. Although, on Tilly the breast area is closer to her navel than to her chest and two feet out. Whatever the case, the whole thing is quite obscene.

"Where'd you get those eggs—the dinosaurs?"

She laughs. I don't.

"You look scrumptious," she says and licks her chops. I think it's partially lusting for me and partially because there's a ham in front of her and salivating over pork is an involuntary reaction for Tilly.

"We've been coupled in so many of these things, it's kind of like I'm your other wife."

"Uh, no."

"We're a good match-up."

"For what, wrestling?"

"You kidder!" She laughs and everything south of that turkey neck jiggles. Oh god, she's pushing her chest out. I fear a quick movement and a concussion.

"Miss Tilly," some little boy pulls on her demon tail, rescuing me from the earthquake happening in her cellulite. "I just farted and I don't think only air came out."

"Oh dear," Tilly says. "Let's get your mother." She pulls him away.

Saved by the fart.

"Lovers!" some old lady says over a muffled loud speaker. It sounds like she's dead and trying to reach out from the other side. Should she really be calling us lovers in front of the preschool class? "It's now time to go through the time machine of love and experience romance through the Agezzzzz."

The lights go off and some kid in the back cries. Then, they start playing Adele as the curtain rises.

Couples from history take the stage—Robin Hood and Maid Marion; Antony and Cleopatra; and of course our own Romeo and Juliet.

Elliot is waving to the audience like he's been named Beauty School Dropout.

Why the fuck are they playing Adele?

Taylor passes right in front of me without even an acknowledgement in my direction. Odd.

"Taylor," I whisper shout. He stops, but doesn't look back. Is he trying to avoid me? "Taylor!"

I can see him clenching his fists, almost as if he's trying to steady himself before he faces me. What's his deal? I guess Luciana is really getting under his skin.

"Yes, sir?" he grits his teeth and spits his words after he finally turns to me. He's never spit a "sir" before. He's been so odd these past few days, just because I haven't let him in on my, or rather Teddy's secret. It's like if he's not all up my ass he just isn't happy with life.

"Well, did you do it?" I ask.

"Yes sir, I did." The hostility in his voice is palpable.

"And?" I don't care about his co-star problems, I want to know about this girl.

"I now know what you've been up to, Mr. Grey." Oh shit, that's ominous. He's bitter I didn't tell him.

"Listen, this all hit me quite suddenly," I say, trying to brush it off.

"Did it now?" He won't even look at me.

"Yes, like two days ago. I was back and forth about it at first, but then I figured what the hell, let's go for it. And it's been fun. I just had to keep it quiet, you know. Especially from Ana."

His fists are balls by his side now.

"And the job is done, sir." Why is he acting like he just dropped the body I told him to knock off into the river?

"Well then, how was she?"

"Mr. Grey, I did what you asked," he bites. Taylor's never bitten before, either. At least not the hand that feeds him. All this spitting and biting is worrisome. He's either extremely upset or he has rabies.

"Did she like it? Her father wasn't around, was he?"

He exhales, almost like he's a bull blowing out steam. Why do I get the strange feeling he wants to charge me?

"I know I work for you, but I thought I've come to know you as a friend, even family. A friend of your family." He gives me a pointed look. "I will always do my job, but I don't have to agree with it, sir."

He walks off.

Shit. Is he really that against Teddy having a little girlfriend? Or maybe he's just upset he wasn't part of making the valentine card. Maybe Taylor has glitter envy.

"You are the sun Juliet..." Elliot says on stage and after a long, odd pause... "Yeah, girl. Here comes that sun." He pulls Kavanagh into a lip lock to avoid further line readings, I'm sure.

"That a boy!" I hear my grandfather shout out.

Fuck the actors. I look out in the audience. I can't see any girl holding Teddy's valentine. But, Taylor said he just gave it to her, so the girl has to have it.  She couldn't have just thrown it away, could she? Oh god, I hope not.

"Ready to make some magic happen?"

Oh fuck, Tilly's back. Kill me now. Wait, maybe Tilly can be good for something...

"Hey, do you know the first grade class well?"

"Yes, I do their PE on Thursdays and Tuesdays." It annoys me to no end that she said the days in that order, but then again so does so much about Tilly. I'm sure she doesn't actually do their PE. She instructs from the sidelines eating whatever frozen burrito was available on a two-for-one special. She takes the two and leaves the one. No, she probably takes that one, too.

"Is there a girl with the last name Bentley?" I ask.

She thinks. This could take all millennium.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. There's no one with the last name Bentley at this school at all at the moment."

What the hell? Who is this kid—ghost girl?

"Are you sure, because I'm positive it was Bentley."

"Well, there is some girl with the first name Bentley..."

First name? Oh, maybe I misunderstood...

"Oh, yes! That must be it. Where is she?"

"Why do you want to know?" She gives me a death glare all of a sudden. Why is this girl inciting such distasteful reactions?

"The kids mentioned her. I hadn't heard her name before. I was just curious."

"She's nothing special, but if you must know," she says with the only thing Tilly will ever be pregnant with besides burrito triplets—attitude. "She's standing by the teacher's desk."

I look over and I don't see any little girl. In fact there are no kids over there at all. All I see is that bimpy blonde Elliot was going on about—

"Oh fuck!" I say as it hits me like a bolder in my face.

"Mr. Grey!" Tilly scolds, but then gets all breathy like she's turned on by my dirty mouthed outburst. But, I have no time for beasts in heat.

"Don't tell me that grown woman is Bentley." I point straight to the girl twirling her bleached ends and drinking diet soda with a pink straw while she watches the play.

Please no. Please no. Please no.

"I wouldn't call her grown, but yes, that's her."

"Who the hell is she? I've never seen her."

"She's a college aide. She started a few weeks back, part time."

As if a the typhoon hit, all of my worst nightmares crash into me. My son is in love with an old blonde. 

Holy shit! That's why Taylor's mad at me. He thinks I gave those gifts to that girl.

The gifts!

Fuck. I look around. She's not holding them. Both her hands are caught up in her split ends and her caffeine and chemicals. And I don't see them anywhere around her. I have to get them back! I start to take off, but Tilly holds me and prevents my leave, and trust me the moose is strong.

"I have to go!" I say, the ham fighting the hoof.

"Oh no you don't. You're staying with me!"

"Let me go!" I fight.

"We're on next!"

I look up as stage smoke starts to blow in and I'm blinded and coughing it up. Where did they get this shit—Asbestos R Us?  I can't even see the audience anymore to look for the gifts or the girl. Or Ana! Oh shit, where's Ana?

A bad recording of Love and Marriage by Sinatra comes on. I bet Tilly recorded a Married with Children rerun with her iPhone straight off the TV. I think I can hear her munching chips in the background.

"I'm seeing hearts," the announcer says.

I'm seeing nothing! I take that back, I'm seeing my life flash before my eyes if Ana catches wind of that girl getting Cartier and tea roses from me. Let alone that valentine with my fucking name signed on it in my fucking writing!

Suddenly a bunch of little preschoolers dressed as pink and purple hearts fly out onto the stage like they were just shot from a canon fueled with pixie sticks.

Before I know it, Tilly is dragging me forward as other food groups, Taylor and Nympho Carrot included, take the stage. Along with Peanut Butter Dick Head and his Granny Jar of Grape we have Almond Milk and Muslei (the moms who IV frappuccinos directly into their veins around here thought it was healthier than Lucky Charms and milk); mustard and ketchup; and being the high brow hippie joint it is, a vegan sushi roll with gluten free, low sodium soy sauce.

Fuck this food, I have to get to Taylor. He's gotta tell me where he left that gift.

We're all standing in a chorus line formation, like some broadway buffet. That fucking sushi roll keeps sticking his chopsticks in my ear. And I have Tilly hanging onto me like the E. coli in her yolks. Taylor's not faring any better. Luciano has her hands all over his abnormally large green balls.

Then, the little cocoa cups and marshmallows do some tap dance thing across the stage to grand applause and surround us.

As jelly steps forward to spread herself on peanut butter's sandwich—I swear, if I wasn't shitting in my hog about everything going on, the commentary on this quite embarrassing, mildly pornographic display would be endless—I shimmy my way left to Taylor's  right.

"Taylor," I whisper and I can see he's trying to ignore me. "Taylor, listen to me. I didn't give those things to that girl."

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't corroborate your story," he whispers out of the side of his mouth.

"It's not a story. None of that was from me. You need to help me get it back!"

"So, now you're sorry about it, Mr. Grey?"

"Yes, but not why you think. I'm in trouble."

"Shhh!" Sushi says, waving his sticks.

"I understand, sir. You need me once you're in trouble." Is this about him being upset thinking I'm cheating on Ana or him still pissed he didn't get to drive me anywhere yesterday?

"I can explain everything."

"Save the marriage counseling for off-stage," Soy Sauce whispers. Big advice from a woman who fucked her therapist while her husband fed the meter.

I look around and the entire food circus is appalled we're making noise through this epic performance of Muesli getting Almond Milk poured in her bowl. Seriously, this is going well beyond what should be deemed decent for a preschool performance. And how did I become the moral barometer for these things?!

"I need to know where you put it," I fight to get Taylor's attention again, but Nympho Carrot has her head all up in his business. Oh wait, that's not her head.

"Her box in the teacher's lounge," Taylor says.

Fuck. Well, maybe I can still get it.

"Run as you may," the old lady narrator says, stopping me in my tracks. "But, Cupid'z arrow always finds a way."

Some tinker bell jingle sounds and the lights dim.

All of a sudden the lights go up and Phoebe flies across the stage. And I mean literally flies! They have her on some sort of contraption with a harness and wings. Granted, she's only four feet off the ground, but still, this highly dangerous and why wasn't I warned about this?!

"Phoebe! Get down!" I say to her and she giggles as everyone on stage tries to shush me. She flies back and forth for the oohs and ahhs of the audience. But, I will not be shushed! "Phoebe!"

"Look Daddy, I'm flying!" Phoebe says and the audience laughs like it's some cute joke.

"Phoebe get down!"

But, of course she doesn't listen.  She takes one of her arrows and throws it, knocking some kid in his head. The funny thing is he barely even notices.

"You're in love!" she scolds him and as if he's just remembering his part because of Cupid's not-so-subtle reminder, he skips off hand-in-hand with another heart and that cheesy 80s song Two of Hearts starts playing on the speaker.

Then, I see him. Like a gnat flying at me. Brown hair, beady hazel eyes and bad intentions—Dukey Nutweiler.

Though I feared Dukey may be more of a Don Juan romantic, it's worse. He doesn't just throw an amorous spear or two out there and see if they stick, he uses his love bow to chuck arrow after arrow. So many arrows that I know he's waging battle against me.

Heart after heart falls under his expert skill and range. He's got the quick wrist of a heartbreaker and the aim of a sniper. He's also got a wedgie from that harness.

The kids keep swinging back and forth. I didn't know I'd have to stop this shit mid air and at mid torso. While I dive between arrows, I try to block Phoebe. I'm making progress until I see Bentley get up from her seat.

Oh shit.

She's throwing her diet soda can in the NON recycle bin of all places and she doesn't look like she's going to sit back down.

"It's almost our turn," Tilly whispers and yanks me away from line of fire.

"Tilly, stop!" I whisper back and pull away.

Taylor and Luciana have taken their featured place and are about to start to do whatever abominable pea people and nympho carrots do, when I turn and see Dukey pulling his last arrow out of his bag and aiming just as Phoebe is swinging into his line of shot.

"No!" I say as I hurl myself through the air to stop his love shot, throwing Tilly off and sending her into the cocoa mug kids like a ball to pins. I extend my reach and catch the arrow in mid flight, just before it strikes a giggling Phoebe and I fall forward and topple Taylor straight to the ground, stabbing the foam arrow into his heart, instead.

There are gasps from the audience and the whole place falls silent.

"What the heck are you doing?" Soy Sauce yells out.

"Uh..." I look out onto the audience and then to Taylor. "Well, I don't think it's right that if Ham and Peas want to be together they can't because of dietary restrictions."

There's a moment of silence, then the place erupts in applause. There's a standing ovation. Taylor and I are called to our feet to take a celebratory bow as the audience chants "ham and peas" in honor of our union. We've suddenly become the poster children for food pairing equality.

I look to the back of the room and I see Bentley doesn't care about the evolution of this social cause playing out on this stage. I think she needs another diet soda, because she's headed straight for the teacher's lounge.

Fuck.

I guess everyone deems Taylor and me the best ending of the show, because the big number is scrapped, much to Tilly's dismay, and the curtain is called with the audience on their feet demanding an encore.

Encore my ass. I take off running for the lounge.

"Bentley!" I say, out of breath as I open the door and  see her standing in front of the mailboxes. "Don't look in your—"

She turns around and smiles, holding the empty Cartier box and tea roses in one hand and the card in the other.

"Box." Fuck. I'm done for. "Look, I can explain."

"You don't need to explain." She walks over. "I will definitely be your valentine, Mr. Grey."

Oh shit. She's wearing the necklace already; the words "so sweet" spelled out in pink diamonds and shimmering from her chest.

"I'll be real sweet for you," she says and she sounds like she has experience.

"No!" I try to back away but she's all up on my meat." Listen, I have a wife and almost four children."

"Don't worry, I'll be quiet. I know a man in binding situations has needs." Odd choice of wording.

"No, you don't understand. I don't need anything but you gone and this forgotten."

"Oh, I know the kinky games you'd like to play."

"Trust me, you have no idea."

I back up further. This girl is far too experienced and shrew-like for college. Of course the only college girl I've ever been with was a virgin. She chases me around the room until she has me cornered by the refrigerator and then I hear the door open.

Fuck.

"What's going on here?"

I turn my head sharply. Oh double fuck, it's Ana!

"Nothing!" Bentley and I both say in unison as she jumps away from me and I gain my bearings.

"It doesn't look like nothing to me," Ana says as she stands shell shocked at the door.

"Ana, no! This is a big misunderstanding." I rush to her.

"Oh yeah," she says and points to the card and Cartier box in Bentley's hands. "Why does she have my gift?"

"That's not your gift!"

"You told me it was."

"Okay, I kind of lied. But, it was for a good cause."

"What cause? Your own?"

"Ana, no, that stuff is not from me to her."

She steps forward to Bentley.

"Can I see those?"

Bentley doesn't even try to stop her as she grabs the card and the box.

"To Bentley," Ana reads. "Will you be my valentine? Mr. Grey." Ana drops the card and box, immediately in tears.

"Ana, no!" I move to her, but she pushes me away. "That's not from me."

"It's in your writing!"

"Yes, there's an explanation."

"Mr. Grey, is everything okay?" Taylor peeks his head in and when he sees the situation unfolding tries to scoot away.

"Taylor, did you know about this?" Ana asks.

"No, Mrs. Grey. He kept everything hidden from me." He glares at me.

"Who's side are you on?!" I ask.

"Is this why you've been so secretive? Why you wouldn't let Taylor drive you around yesterday?" Ana asks.

"Yes and no."

"Do you want to fuck this tramp because I'm fat?"

"Hey!" Bentley says.

"What?! Ana, no! I'm horny all the time because you're fat!"

"You think I'm fat?!" She cries.

I can't win.

"No. I mean, you're beautiful! Listen to me. I love you. I would never cheat on you. Just let me explain."

"I'm listening." She gives that look that says
I better talk fast or testicles are going to be removed.

"I'm not the Mr. Grey that's in love with this girl," I say.

"That's your explanation?!"

"I'd say that was a weak answer, sir," Taylor says.

"Maybe, but it's true."

"Oh yeah? Who is it, Elliot? Your father? Because those are the only two I know," Ana says.

"No. Our son."

She stares at me for a moment.

"What?"

"Remember when he was acting all weird the other night?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he confessed to me he had a crush and he wanted to ask her to be his valentine. So, I agreed to help, but he swore me to secrecy."

"Our Teddy?"

"Yes."

"Why did you encourage him liking an older woman like that?"

"I didn't know it was her. I thought it was some other six-year-old girl, but once I figured it out it was too late."

"Little Teddy's in love with her?" Ana asks.

"Little Teddy's in love with me?" Bentley asks.

I nod to both of them.

"That's so sweet," Bentley says and Ana glares at her.

"Why is the card in your writing, then?"Ana asks.

"Because he couldn't spell the words!" I move to her. "Besides, if I was trying to get with some girl do you really think I'd glitter up a construction paper card and glue macaroni to it?"

"Well, you don't know much about romancing women." She laughs.

I take hold of her chin and tilt it up to me.

"I do now."

She smiles and I lean in to give her a kiss. "Mrs. Grey, just you wait until you see your valentines tonight."

"Oh, Mr. Grey, this all makes me so happy," Taylor says, practically weeping with joy.

"We have real trust issues to work on, Taylor," I snap.

"Yes, sir."

"You bought Cartier for a six-year-old?" Ana asks.

"Okay, so I went a little overboard, but I wanted Teddy to do all the hearts and flowers right."

"Oh, Christian," Ana starts uncontrollably weeping into my ham suit.

"What's wrong, baby? I told you I didn't do anything." I stroke her back.

"I'm not my baby boy's valentine anymore!" She sobs. And she's the one who told me I was ridiculous for getting upset over all those cards!

"Tell me about it. I nearly broke my neck catching that arrow on stage."

"Our babies aren't babies anymore," she sniffles.

"Well, we have two more coming." I touch her belly.

She snorts a laugh.

"Where is Teddy?" Bentley asks.

"He's outside playing with his friends," Taylor says.

She nods and heads out the door.

"Where the hell is she going?" I ask.

"I think she's heading for the yard, Mr. Grey," Taylor says as he looks around the corner.

"Stay here with Ana," I say to Taylor.

"No, I'm coming, too," she says.

"Teddy doesn't want you to see anything. Stay here, please."

I rush off to the yard. Just as I cross the doorway I see Bentley on bended knee in front of Teddy under a winter apple tree. I tuck myself behind a post and watch their interaction. She's saying something and he's spellbound. Then she smiles, leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Oh my god, I've witnessed his first sort of, kind of kiss.

One of the kids calls her in the distance and she waves goodbye and smiles at him as she walks away. Teddy looks like he just got hit by a semi truck. He stares ahead, blushing and touching a cheek he'll probably never want to wash again.

"Teddy," I say on approach after giving him a good moment to take it all in. "How's it going?"

He looks up at me, bewildered.

"She said she'd be my valentine."

"That's great, buddy!" Although I'm not sure if that's a good thing. It would've been sweet to take Teddy and another six-year-old on ice cream "dates", but with Bentley that's just awkward. Elena and I with my mother would've been less odd back in the day. In fact, we did do food outings a couple of times. Although it was usually French food and it always ended up with Elena trying to jerk me off under the table. How am I going to tell Teddy he has to drop this girl?

"Yeah," Teddy says and scrunches his nose. "But, I think I feel different now."

"You do?"

"Yeah, now that she knows, it's not as fun. I think it was all about the chase."

"Really?" Shit, I may have another Elliot on my hands here. "So, you're already onto a new love?"

"No, I think I'm done with girls."

"How come?"

"I'm tired of keeping clean all the time. Dirt is my life." He shrugs.

"Well, I think that's a good call. Talk to me again in a few years." I ruffle his hair. "How about we get home so we can give your mother and sister their Valentine's Day presents and eat lots of chocolate? I know your mom would love it if you'd be her valentine."

He nods. Shit, I still have a date with a hamster and a pig to get ready for before I can romance my wife.

"Hey dad?" he asks as I take his hand to lead him inside.

"What is it, Sport?"

"Don't tells the guys a girl kissed me, I'll never live it down."

"Okay," I laugh. "But again, talk to me in a few years."

To be continued...