“Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for you for over an hour.”
“…and eggs, and bread, and cereal. What are we supposed to do for breakfast?”
“Pumpkin cheesecake bars! Yay!”
“We all know where the hell she’s been. And now, we riot.”
“Goddammit, I can’t believe another October is about to be ruined because of a man. I want to rip all their throats out with my bare hands and shred them in a cheese grater.”
“Well, now I just completely lost my appetite. But seriously, where do you keep your cheese grater, Sid?”
“Should I leave? I really shouldn’t be listening to you guys plan felonies.”
“No!” every woman seated around my kitchen table screams at Kenny, the lone man, whose wide, slightly terrified eyes dart toward the closest exit.
Which just so happens to be my front door that I’m currently slumped against, wishing I would have stayed asleep on Ford’s couch a little longer this morning. Like, for the rest of October.
It’s not unusual to find my family surrounding my kitchen table in the wee hours of the morning, nor Kenny. My family claims I’m the only one who knows how to make a decent, delicious breakfast, and Kenny is typically here to arrest someone. On good days, he’s just here to give a warning.
I’m really hoping this is a good day. I’m still exhausted after dealing with last night’s bullshit, even if the end of the evening was much more pleasant.
At least my favorite room in my rented townhouse is a welcome sight. With black cabinets and orange accent lighting all around the top and bottom of them, the Halloween village with pieces I’ve been collecting since I was a child are lit up and lining every inch of space all along the top of my cabinets close to the ceiling. My coffee nook is filled with all my Halloween mugs, and my jack-o-lantern utensil holder is filled with orange and black cooking utensils, along with all the other little Halloween odds and ends decorating the space. It’s the one room of my house I keep Halloween themed year-round. It makes me happy to walk in here no matter what month it is. It reminds me I always have something to look forward to, no matter what kind of insanity is happening in my life.
The fact that what I’ve been looking forward to all year is finally here, and he ghosted me before I woke up this morning—just like always—is the only thing that stops me from turning around and walking right back out my front door.
“Hi, sweetie! I made pumpkin cheesecake bars!” my Aunt Dawn greets me with a smile and a kiss to the cheek after scrambling up from my table.
“I heard.” My sigh is loud and heavy, and I don’t even bother hiding it as I carefully set my box of severed heads down on my entryway table, and then toe off my black Converse. “Care to tell me why you’re all in my home at 7:30 in the morning?”
“It’s your intervention. And you’re late.” My mother shakes her head at me while I stare at the words on my coffee cup she brings to her mouth, Witches be crazy.
How fitting….
“Wait, I thought I was here because you wanted to file a complaint about a resident?” Kenny’s orange mug with a jack-o-lantern face painted on it smacks against my table when he sets it down with an annoyed huff.
“We’ll get to that. Pipe down and drink your coffee,” my mother orders, which makes Kenny quickly take a sip.
Sure, he’s an officer of the law, but he knows better than to argue with a tableful of Tanner women who are fired up. Plus, my mother has been friends with Kenny’s mother since they were kids. She changed Kenny’s diapers when he was a baby, and she will not hesitate to bring up his “cute little tush” to win any argument. Since Kenny prefers his butt not be a topic of conversation when he’s in uniform, he wisely stays quiet.
“You’ve already forgotten about us, and it’s only day one!” my sister Penny complains, aggressively yanking the ponytail holder out of her long blonde hair until it all spills around her shoulders.
“How exactly have I forgotten about you?” I want to remind everyone at the table that I spent four hours in jail for two of them last night, but I can’t exactly do that in front of Kenny.
Even if he does know, he doesn’t know-know, and I’m keeping it that way.
The four blondes in my kitchen all wave me away with their hands and a roll of their eyes.
“You were late!” Ginger complains.
“To your own intervention!” my mom and Penny add in unison.
“You haven’t even asked for an intervention pumpkin cheesecake bar yet.” Aunt Dawn frowns.
Oh, for fuck’s sake….
“I wasn’t exactly invited to my own intervention… in my own home.” I sigh, moving into the kitchen to lean against the edge of the counter.
Aunt Dawn pours me a much-needed cup of coffee, smiling at me when she hands it over. “No one is invited to their own intervention, silly. But we made an exception, and I sent you an Evite last night. I have to say, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t RSVP by the deadline of midnight. We were all standing around, watching the pumpkin go up, and it just put a damper on the whole thing.”
“I didn’t have my phone. Because I was in jail,” I remind her, counting to ten before I lose my temper and setting my coffee mug down on the counter before I hurl it across the room. I’m the peace-keeper. The one who always remains calm in the face of absolute insanity, no matter how much it sucks. Someone in this family needs to be the voice of reason, and since I always seem to be the only adult in attendance, that someone is always me.
“Kenny, you have got to change the cell phone policy in the holding facility.” Mom tsks at him.
Aunt Dawn takes her seat again at the table, and they all start complaining about emergencies happening to inmates and the dire need for them to have phones. Kenny silently sips his coffee and shakes his head, probably wishing he was anywhere but here.
Join the club, buddy.
Just like always, I feel like the third wheel… technically the fifth, if we’re being all mathy. I am the only brunette with brown eyes in a sea of blondes with blue eyes, my aunt included. But it’s not just our hair and eye colors that always makes me feel like the odd woman out in this family. Penny and Ginger were born one day apart, and even though they’re cousins and not sisters, the two of them have always shared a twin-like bond.
My mom and my aunt are the same way. They were best friends since kindergarten who married brothers, lived on the same street, raised their families together, and buried their husbands together. The bond they share is what most girlfriends dream about and strive for when they’re younger, planning the future. Well, minus the whole dead-husbands who shit all over their wedding vows thing. That’s kind of a bummer when you’re living the dream.
Even though I share the same distrust for the male species as the rest of the women in my family, I’m not as ragey about it, and I realize not all men are created equal in the lying, cheating, betrayal department. That doesn’t mean I’m going to do something stupid like fall in love, but I wouldn’t burn everything to the ground if someone I cared about wanted to.
“I’m out of coffee, and the puppy kept me up all night. No one speak until I’ve had caffeine, or you will all die. Here, I met Abby out on your sidewalk getting ready to deliver these to you.”