Page 17 of Deprivation

“Ha. I completely understand.” TL Swan is a personal favorite of ours. The only difference being, Mel was getting action on the regular, and I had to live through TL Swan’s characters for an exciting love life. “Well, my parent’s place isn’t too far from Rock Bottom Brewery. Do you want to meet there?” I ask hopefully. “The stupid excuse for attention, I mean party, starts at 4:00. I can probably make my exit by 7:00. Do you want to try and meet there around 7:30?”

“Oh, that sounds great. I love their cajon fish tacos. You have a deal.”

“Great. Go ahead and get us a table if you get there before me. I never seem to be able to make a clean getaway at my parents’ house without a shaming of some sort before heading to the car.” I groan just thinking about it. “If you’re sure Jake will be okay with it, I’ll meet you then. See you, Mel,” I say with a little more zeal, knowing my night won’t be a total bust.

* * *

I’ve barely gotten both feet through the front door of Rachel’s house, when I hear my mother call. “Kat, do be a dear and take this plate of hors d’oeuvres around to the guests for me.”Was I invited to be part of the wait staff?Heck, who am I kidding? I’d rather be part of the wait staff than be a guest and keep listening to tales of the perfect marriage and family.I bet his dick is only three inches long. There’s got to besomethingwrong with Mr. and Mrs. Perfect and their flawless family.“Kat, did you hear me?” Mom repeats.

“Yes, Mom. I can do that,” I reply. Just a few more hours until I can leave this detention center and get my drink on with Mel.Hang in there, Kat. You can do this.Grabbing the tray of bruschetta, I walk toward the sea of unfamiliar faces, undoubtedly also conned into this goofy celebration.Did these people actually bring gifts?I decide not to make idle chit chat, “Hi I’m Rachel’s older sister, the spinster. Yes, she is fabulous. I know, she is beautiful.”Ugh!Instead, I shove the tray in between guests, waiting until it’s clear so I can return to the kitchen to hide out until my mother has noticed her free help is missing.

“Hey, Auntie Kat. Is there anything good to eat in the kitchen?” Luke asks.

I bend down to look at the gorgeous, blond-haired, blue-eyed six-year-old and his similarly appearing younger sister and state in total seriousness, “I doubt it. But I can make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich if we can’t find anything better. Who’s ready to hunt for something really bad for us?” I ask excitedly.

“Me,” they squeal in unison.

The three of us skulk toward the kitchen on tip toes, like we’re sneaking into forbidden territory. We manage to get away without being discovered and quickly rummage through the pantry. I find what I need to make sandwiches and the ingredients for a decadent surprise. I bet these kids are given carrots for dessert, so this’ll knock their socks off.

After completing the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I instruct my partners in crime to sit quietly at the kitchen island while I gather the graham crackers, marshmallows, and Nutella I’ve found. Spearing a marshmallow on the end of a bamboo spear left over from assorted appetizers, I attempt to soften the sweet morsel over the gas range without lighting my hand on fire. I remind the littles “to never try this at home,” as Auntie Kat isn’t using the safety-first rule with this indulgence. I assemble the gooey marshmallow on top of the graham crackers I’ve slathered in Nutella and hand one to each child. The smiles on their faces are priceless.

“On the count of three, we dive in,” I whisper, watching them nod in enthusiasm. “One, two, three!” I shout, and we all chomp down on our sweet perfections just as we look up to see my mother tapping her foot on the floor, arms crossed in front of her chest. The kids undoubtedly see her but scarf down their snack like a scene fromOliver Twist. There’s no way anyone is taking those away without losing a digit.

“Katarina Kelly,” my mother scolds. “Are you giving these children sugary treats before bed?”

“Um, yeah. It’s a partay.” I stress the last syllable of the word. “Plus, it was small.”

“Katarina, you have no idea what it takes to properly raise children. Now, you two get back to your mother,” she scolds the two sprites. “And as for you, is it too much to ask you to try to be social?”

I shrug my shoulders in defeat, thinkingYes. Yes, it actually is. I notice it is 6:30 p.m.Holy cow, I’m almost done with this nonsense.I can pretend to be social for another thirty minutes.“Sure, Mom. Sorry. They said they were hungry, and I thought if I got them something, it’d free up everyone else to enjoy the party you worked so hard on.”

My mother gives me a look that says she’s calling bullshit on my compliments as she points toward the kitchen door with unyielding direction. I traipse toward a group of guests and try to smile and make eye contact with people until 7:00 p.m. when I can make my exit. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my right elbow and hear my sister’s voice next to me.

“Alex, this is my sister, Katarina, I was telling you about. Kat, this is Alex. He works with Steven, and we were telling him all about you and wanted to introduce you,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eye.

I look from Rachel toward Alex and have to fight to prevent my eye roll. This guy is about two inches shorter than I am and has never seen a gym in his life. He’s also sporting a comb over. On further inspection, he appears to be saving what looks like a piece of grilled shrimp in his seventies-looking mustache for a late-night snack. If Rachel is trying to set me up with this guy, I’ll put laxatives in her coffee the next time we have brunch with Mom and Dad.

“Alex, you two have a lot in common. Both of you are the oldest sibling and neither’s been married.”Is she for real?

“Hi, Alex. It’s nice to meet you. I wish I could stay and chat,” I say, glaring at Rachel who still thinks this is hilarious, “but I’ve got to get home. I just got a text from a co-worker letting me know a patient of mine from last night had bed bugs. I thought I was just itching because of this wool sweater, but now I’m worried I may have brought a few extra friends to the party,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

I watch as Alex takes a step back and Rachel looks at me in horror. I’ll fill her in later that this was retaliation for again attempting to set me up with one of her least appealing acquaintances. I turn toward the door to grab my things, praying I can sneak out before rumors of my antics reach my mother. I can’t handle another scolding tonight. Shutting the door behind me, I practically sprint toward my car. Opening the door and settling inside to start the ignition, I look up just in time to see my mother shaking her head in disgust from the front window. Oh, well, it isn’t the first and certainly won’t be the last time I get that look from her.

* * *

Walking into the Rock Bottom Brewery twenty minutes later, I’m pleased to see Melanie’s gotten here early and already secured a table. Waving at me from her perch at the bar-height table, I try to avoid running over in sheer glee to be around someone normal. She stands and gives me a big squeeze as I approach.

“How was it? Looks like you survived,” she laughs.

“Just barely. Why at twenty-nine do I still feel like I’m five when I get scolded by my mother? It’s ridiculous. My niece and nephew were hungry, so I fixed them a snack. Just because I didn’t feed them kale chips isn’t a reason to reprimand me. Then, Rachel had the nerve to try and set me up with some guy from Steven’s office that looked like he hadn’t had a date in years and still lived in his mother’s basement,” I guffaw, clutching her hand across the table.

She giggles back, “Kat, I hate to bring it to your attention, but he wouldn’t have been the only one who hasn’t had a date in years.”

“Okay, point made. But, mine is by choice. Oh, that poor guy was unfortunate-looking. Someone really needs to get his hair and mustache into the twenty first century. Have you ordered?”

“Only drinks. I ordered two margaritas. I was waiting for you to arrive to order food,” she says, rubbing her hands together like she hasn’t eaten all day. This captivating brunette has long, straight hair down to her waist, dark brown eyes, bright red lips, and voluptuous curves that make her look like a forties pin-up girl. I’m not sure if she has a strenuous workout routine, as she always seems to indulge in her favorite foods when we’re out, and her weight never fluctuates.

“Sounds perfect. After the PB and J and the Nutella s’more I had with the kids, I’ll just have some guacamole and chips.”

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