Chapter Fifteen: Macaroni

Some of the best times in our relationship were just hanging out. Victor could make me feel better about everything. It was a gift.

Patty sat Indian style in the beach chair Victor had set up in his apartment, a bowl of macaroni and cheese balanced on her left hand. Absently, she stabbed the fork into the bowl, scooping out a bite. It was warm and creamy, and one of the few foods Victor was proficient at cooking. Victor sat opposite her, on a very musty couch, his own bowl already finished and discarded onto the floor. The apartment was still highly unfurnished, but neither Patty nor Victor seemed to care. Patty found it a little refreshing, in fact, to for once be in a minimalist environment.

This particular Wednesday night, however, Patty wasn't as at ease as she usually was with Victor. For nearly a week her mother had been prodding at her to invite Victor to dinner, insisting one conversation was not enough for her to sufficiently know her daughter's first serious boyfriend. Patty had been reluctant to extend the invitation, though. It would be like inviting Victor into a war zone.

"I need a TV," Victor complained, turning so he was reclined on the couch. "It's the first thing I'm adding to this apartment when I save up some more money."

"What about some curtains?" asked Patty, giving up on her dinner and setting the bowl down in her lap.

"What?" said Victor. "You don't like the light blasting its way in during the day? Personally I find it refreshing."

"You were complaining about it waking you up just yesterday," said Patty.

"First a TV, then the curtains."

Patty rolled her eyes. He'd probably never get around to getting curtains for this place. Maybe she'd make him some for Christmas.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, when she didn't respond.

"No."

Except for the fact that she felt defensive and on edge today, and her mom wanted her to feed her boyfriend to the sharks, so to speak.

"Come on, Patty. I know you. Something's going on."

Patty groaned and threw her head back so she was staring straight up at the ceiling. That was another thing. How could he know her so well already? They'd only been dating a couple of weeks. She groaned again, inwardly. How ungrateful could she be? She actually had a boyfriend who cared enough about her to realize when something was wrong and all she could do was complain. God, what was wrong with her today? She was acting like a crazy person.

"My mom wants you to come to dinner on Sunday," she said, still not facing him. The ceiling was fascinating, anyway.

"Oh," said Victor. "Well, fine. I can come. No big deal."

"My mother will eat you alive."

"I'll struggle. It'll be okay. She can't eat me if she can't catch me." He smiled. "And even if she does, I'm all bone and stringy meat. She'll only get through a leg before throwing me out."

Patty smiled, in spite of herself.

"Knowing my mom she'd eat you whole just to prove she can, stringy or not. Besides, it won't just be my mom. The rest of the family will be there too."

"Even better," said Victor. "It can be a family dinner. An early Thanksgiving. I'll be the turkey."

Patty raised her head and looked at him. "Are you sure about this?"

"What twenty-year-old guy wouldn't want to go to his girlfriend's house for dinner and to hang out with her eccentric and sometimes scary mother?"

Patty slid off the chair and crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the couch. Then she leaned down and softly kissed Victor. After a moment, she pulled back very slowly, leaving only a breath between their lips. "Thank you," she said.

Victor leaned up an inch and kissed her again, and for a few moments, thoughts of the family dinner fled Patty's mind.

"Is that all that's wrong?" Victor asked as he broke away, settling his head back against the couch. Patty sat up straight and laid a hand on his torso.

"I just feel a little funny today. That's all. No big deal."

"Okay," said Victor, and Patty patted him with her hand a couple of times before standing.

"I have to go," she said.

"No," protested Victor. He grabbed her forearm gently. "Don't leave."

"I have-" But she was cut off by Victor's lips on hers again.

She giggled. "I have to," she said. "I'm working tonight."

"You don't have to work," said Victor. "Quit and run away with me to Hawaii."

Patty shook her head and stood, Victor's hand trailing down her arm to grasp her hand as she went. "As tempting as that sounds," she said, "I'm afraid I'll have to stick with staying here in California and working at Buddy's."

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

Patty smiled, squeezed his hand and let go. Minutes later she was out the door and on the way to work, feeling just a little bit better than she had earlier.