Read Dunkin and Donuts for Free Online

tonight and, besides, we’re touched by Helen’s offer. She’s extending an olive branch. We might as well take it. Besides, the guest bed is huge, the bedding deliciously soft, inviting. Dunkin and I strip down to our underwear, crawl into bed together and fall asleep immediately.
    I awake to the smells and sounds of breakfast being made—bacon frying on a griddle, pancakes, eggs, and toast.
    “Hey, get up, hon,” I say.
    Dunkin rises. “I’m starving. That smells great.”
    We dress in a hurry, brush our teeth in the guest bathroom, both sharing the toothbrush and toothpaste I always keep in my purse, just in case, and splash water on our faces. We look a bit disheveled in our day-old clothing as we walk into Helen’s kitchen, our bellies growling with hunger.
    “Everything looks and smells delicious,” I say.
    “Good,” she replies. “I hope you’re hungry because I’m sure, as usual, I made way too much food.”
    Lindsay is in her playpen in the living room, entertaining herself with a much-abused, decapitated Barbie doll and a stuffed rabbit of the Velveteen Rabbit variety—by which I mean worn out and well-loved—covered in baby drool, missing one eye, and his fabric skin so thin in places you can see right through to the stuffing.
    “John, honey, let’s eat,” Helen calls out as she pours Dunkin and me cups of steaming hot delicious coffee then gestures to the cream and sugar on the counter.
    We help ourselves. As the four of us sit down to breakfast, Lindsay begins to fuss softly in her playpen.
    “Want me to get her?” I ask.
    “Oh, no,” Helen says. “I’ll put something on the TV. She likes that. She doesn’t even need to know what’s on, but the sounds and images relax her I guess. Whenever I have to cook or clean, I put her in her playpen, turn the TV on, and I’m all set.”
    Helen walks over to the TV, hits a few buttons and there is Sharon Stone writhing atop of Johnny Boz (Bill Cable) in the opening scene of Basic Instinct .
    “What the…?” she stands there, stunned, for a moment.
    Dunkin jumps up, rushes over to her and shuts off the DVR. The screen turns a vibrant shade of blue.
    “Sorry guys. We rented Basic Instinct and I guess didn’t take it out of the DVR player last night. Here, I’ll put in Inspector Gadget . That’s really PG. A kid’s movie. Lindsay can watch that.”
    Helen smiles wanly.
    Dunkin ejects Basic Instinct and deposits the DVD from the other movie rental box into the DVD player. I cringe to tell you what happens next. Emblazoned across the screen are a series of breasts and asses, penises of all shapes and sizes. The camera pans to a woman whose legs are spread open obscenely as she touches herself. In front of her is some sort of mechanical, robotic apparatus that looks like it is about to pleasure the spread-legged porn star.
    Dunkin inhales sharply and turns the TV off. He ejects the DVD from the player.
    “Oh shit! This is the wrong video. We rented Inspector Gadget , but this movie is Inspect Her Gadget . Some idiot must’ve put the wrong movie back in the case. Shit. I’m sorry, guys.”
    But, before either parent can answer, their lovable little daughter with a repertoire of three words decides to add another to her vocabulary.
    “Shit!” Little Lindsay exclaims dramatically.
    My sentiments exactly as, on that note, Dunkin and I hightail it out of there, leaving without having a chance to eat Helen’s delicious breakfast spread.

Chapter Eleven

    “Let’s just try to avoid a catastrophe tonight.” I’m looking in the mirror, giving myself a pep talk before going to meet my friend Liza at a yoga class. My mother’s comments about my ass the other night, combined with my own woeful lack of physical fitness and the embarrassing on-camera babysitting Oreo binge have compelled me to join my friend the workout fiend, for hot yoga. Yes. Not even normal people yoga. We’re going to a sweat your ass off, in your face, kick your butt, try