Fuck Peanuts (SpaMano)

A bright red Ferrari perched among the SUVs. No stickers or dents, certainly no room for a car seat, yet it still arrived every Saturday for the weekly PTO meetings. It received more than its fair share of envious stares and annoyed looks.

Jen never had much of a problem with a car. She knew that Lauren and Rachel muttered darkly to one another whenever they saw it, insurance premiums and the fate of the children swirling darkly. But Tom down the block had gotten a motorcycle.

It was probably because it belonged to Lovino.

“I can’t pack my kid Goldfish for lunch?” Lovino stood, one hand on his hip, sneer on his face. “Why exactly are you telling me what to feed my kid?”

Steve smiled, though it was faulty. “Because, Mr. Vargas, one of the children in the grade has a sever allergy—“

Lovino raised an eyebrow. “That’s my fault? If I want to pack Goldfish, then I should be able to pack fucking Goldfish.”

Jen frowned, and she heard Lauren and Rachel descend into a bout of disapproving whispers behind her. Lovino turned his head sharply before looking back at Steve. Jen wanted to sink through her chair into the floor.

“Don’t even get me started on the peanuts.”

Rachel’s voice cut off immediately.

Unfortunately, Sarah was in Claudio’s grade. Jen would stand awkwardly at pickup, trying desperately to ignore Lovino. After all, he had that car, and he wore those expensive suits, and he had such a mouth but…

Jen watched sadly as Claudio walked out next to Sarah, holding hands.

One day, Jen finally built up the nerve to ask, “Sweetheart, are you friends with that boy Claudio?”

“Yes, and Claudio’s gonna’ ask his dad if we can have a playdate!” She grinned, eyes wide. So innocent.

Jen’s heart sank.

The next day, Lovino walked up to her with a purpose. He had gone slightly more casual today, a button-up and pair of slacks, but they were both ironed vigorously, and his shoes were shiny. Jen, wearing a shirt that was too small for her growing stomach and sweats, smiled.

“Are you Sarah’s mom?” Lovino asked when he reached her.

She could lie.  

Jen held out her hand. “Jennifer, but most people call me Jen. Claudio’s dad, right?” As if the entire PTO board didn’t know. “Sarah talks a lot about Claudio.”

Lovino shook her hand with surprising warmth. “Lovino. Claudio’s been bitching about having a playdate with Sarah for weeks. When would you be free?”

Jen put it off, until Sarah threw herself to the ground (a tactic no doubt learned from Claudio) and sobbed that Jen didn’t want her to have friends. Left with no other option, at least according to Lauren and Rachel, Friday afternoon found Jen on the Vargas doorstep.

It was a fantastic house. Huge yard, three stories, the red Ferrari parked protectively in the driveway. Jen had even seen a pool in the back. She wondered if Lovino was rich, what he did, what his wife’s job was.

Sarah rang the doorbell.

Inside, there was the sing-song of another language, a shout in another. Something fell, and it knocked against the door.

A man opened the door, a grin already across his face.

“Eh, sorry about that! I was upstairs, trying to find the food for the turtles, and Lovino wouldn’t get the door. Neither would Claudio, because he’s out back. Who are you?” He spoke with a lisp, and he seemed strikingly happy.

“Uh.” Jen smiled back. “Jennifer, but people call me Jen. Sarah’s mom.” She pushed forward Sarah in explanation. “I… They have a playdate?”

It took a moment, but recognition eventually dawned in the man’s eyes. “Sarah! Claudio’s been very excited to see you…” He said something else, but Jen was too caught up in the accent to his words and the way his mouth moved.

Who the hell was this?

It took her a moment to realize he had asked a question.

“Sorry, what?”

The man laughed. Jen wasn’t sure what was so funny, but she chuckled along as well.

“I asked if you would like to come in! You aren’t allergic to cats, are you? Sarah, Claudio should be out back, right through there.” The man showed her inside, yelling upstairs in what sounded like Spanish. He looked at her. “How far along are you?”

Jen rested a hand on her stomach. “Just a couple of months. You’re the first person to realize I… Well, that I’m not getting fat, just pregnant.” Jen hesitated, then broke. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

The man let out another laugh. “I’m Antonio.” He led her to a light and airy kitchen, all windows and counter-space. “We’ve been thinking about adopting another, as well.”

“No, we haven’t,” Lovino growled, and Jen jumped. He had appeared out of a side room, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. 

“Not even a little girl?” Antonio teased, watching Lovino walk through the kitchen. “A little princess? Someone to dress up in skirts?” Antonio winked at Jen. “He likes to pretend adopting was all my idea.”

Lovino looked at Jen and then gave Antonio a glare. “It was. You literally brought the kid home and said ‘surprise.’”  

It clicked, and Jen let out a soft “oh” in understanding. 

Jen seems to have been the only one out of the loop. Lauren and Rachel launched into a tirade. 

“Can you believe it?” they said, “That someone as reckless as Lovino got such a nice husband? He’s so cute, and nice, and that poor boy only has one good father instead of two!” 

At the next meeting, Jen watched Lovino on his rant, and she imagined him laying in bed, Claudio wedged between him and Antonio, snarl replaced with a smile. 

“Fuck peanuts! Fuck you, Rachel!” 

It was certainly a strange image.