The Trouble Is

Chapter 27: Santa Clause on the Fourth of July

Katie's parents left for their annual summer vacay yesterday. They usually go somewhere pretty cool, like New York, Seattle, or sometimes a resort in Mexico. I don't know how she did it, but she somehow managed to convince them to leave her behind this time. Of course, Katie's mom called my mom right away and told her all about it and made sure my parents would keep an eye on her during her first home-alone gig. Her dad stuck a list of rules and contact info on the refrigerator with a little 9-1-1 magnet. As they drove away, Katie started replacing her dad's list with a list of boys' names, labeled "Santa's List."

I'm now sitting at the island in Katie's kitchen, picking at a bowl of fruit while Katie pours a giant bowl of Lucky Charms. I can feel the heat through the windows at my back. It's going to be a scorcher today, but Katie prefers all the blinds open.

"I'm making a list," she sings, "and checking it twice. I'm gonna find out who's naughty or nice."

I am impressed by her focus. It's the Fourth of July, which is kind of the halfway point of the summer. This means that we will be on the downhill side as of tomorrow, so if she's going to do it, as in it, she needs to get going. If it were anyone else, I would write off the whole virginity thing as a fantasy or something said just to impress a friend. But this is Katie. Katie doesn't work to impress and rarely has long-running fantasies. She's a goal-setting, goal-achieving phenom.

"We've got a finite pool here, A," she explains, hands on her hips as she reviews the list. "You've already got the new guy. So that leaves me with my own little top-ten list to evaluate and choose from. As per usual, I've accepted the situation and am making the best of things."

I guess if you are going to hold auditions, a little organization never hurt.

"So what's the selection criteria here, K?" I ask. "Appearance, intelligence, popularity? Random selection? Or maybe the old 'go with your gut' approach?"

Katie thinks about this while taking a few slurpy bites of Lucky Charms. Then she grabs a marker and obliterates the bottom two names on the list. Two down, eight to go.

"I'm going with the gut," she says as she slides the bowl my way.

I take a huge bite of the cereal, letting the cold milk dribble down my chin just a bit before wiping it away with the back of my hand.

We spend the day reading magazines by her pool. The housekeeper comes in after lunch, and after she finishes, Katie waves goodbye to her and we are free for the afternoon. We head out to the lake to kill a few hours before date night for both of us. East is taking me to see fireworks but hasn't told me where, and Katie has some sort of date with Number Two on her list. Yeppers, that's what she calls him: Number Two. Katie may or may not text me to meet up with her later. We still have that item on our summer list to see fireworks and stay out until sunrise. Neither one of us has asked our parents' permission for that little item.