Dan Versus Nature Read Free

“Or
baby
food,” I say, glancing at Mom for a reaction.
    But she doesn’t get the reference. Nor does she seem revolted by the desecration of her special cookies.
    Instead, she just smiles and says, “This is cozy, huh?”
    “Mmm-hmm.” I shove the rest of my cookie into my mouth so I can get the hell out of here.
    “So, Dan. We have something we wanted to tell you.” Mom takes a deep breath. She looks over at Hank. “Do you want to —?”
    “No, no.” Hank shakes his head and wipes a blob of milk-soaked gingersnap from his lip. “You go ahead. It’s your . . . you know.”
    “OK.” Mom laughs nervously, shifting her cookies on her plate. “Well. All right. So. As you know, Hank and I have been dating for a while now . . .”
    Oh, Christ. Is that what all this is about? This cookie defiler is going to be moving in with us? That’s just what I need — another one of Mom’s freeloading man-child boyfriends eating all our food, shedding body hair in the shower, and stealing money out of my change jar.
    “I realize this is the first time you’re meeting Hank,” Mom continues, placing her hand on his woolly arm. “But things between us have gotten pretty serious, and . . .” Mom takes another deep breath.
    “And?”
I say, because, really, I’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible so I can go hide in my room. Maybe search for the earplugs I haven’t had to use since the last grunting loser took off, leaving cigarette burns in our couch and a thousand-dollar pay-per-view porn bill.
    “And . . .” She glances over at Hank and smiles. “Well . . . we’re engaged.”
    I blink hard. “I’m sorry. What?”
    “Hank and I . . . are getting married.”
    Her words punch me in the gut. A mass of gingerbready hurl rises in my throat.
    I shake my head. “Wait. You guys . . . You’ve only been dating for a couple of months.”
    “It’s three and a half months, actually,” Mom says. “I know it seems fast, but I told you from the very beginning that I thought Hank was the real deal.”
    Right. Like I haven’t heard that before. “When did this happen?”
    “Last night,” Mom says. “During our Valentine’s Day dinner. It was totally unexpected, but it all just felt so
right.
” She thrusts her left hand at me to display the ginormous diamond ring on her finger. Jesus, how did I miss that? “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
    “It’s . . . um . . . big.” And fake, probably. Hank claims he’s a dentist, but a thousand bucks says it eventually comes out that he’s involved in something only
vaguely
dental related.
    A receptionist at a dentist’s office. Or a toothbrush sales rep. Or the ever-popular “No, no, no, I never said I
was
a dentist. I said that I
go
to the dentist. Because I’m concerned about good dental health.”
    I look over and stare at my future stepdad. College football star. Extreme cookie dunker. Alligator wrestler.
    Rick Chuff all grown up and ready to make my life a living hell.
    I clutch the edge of my chair, the kitchen becoming a Tilt-A-Whirl.
    “I realize this may seem fast to you, Dan,” Hank says.
    “What? Fast? No, it’s — it’s great. Three months is . . . plenty of time.”
    “The thing is,” Hank says, “when you get to our age, you sort of know what you want in a partner.”
    “And what you don’t,” Mom adds.
    Hank smiles shyly at Mom. “And you recognize pretty quickly when you’ve found someone truly special.”
    “Yeah. No,” I say, the back of my neck sweating. “It’s great. I mean, it’s a little . . . surprising and all, but . . . if you both think —”
    “We’d like your blessing, of course,” Hank says.
    Now? You’d like my blessing
now?
What about before you bought the ring, jackass? What about before you freakin’
proposed
?!
    “No. Yeah. No. I mean, if my mom’s . . . happy, then . . . I’m . . .” I swallow my scream. “Congratulations.”
    I glance at the window over the kitchen sink, tempted to make a run for