Party Hearty

(Started Feb 2022)

DISCLAIMER: Everyone is age 19 or 20, names are randomized.

== Chapter: A Valentine's Day Party... ==

In the last year since my girlfriend's Valentines Day party, my life has gotten WAY more complicated.

So, last Valentines' day, my girlfriend Patty had a party. It wasn't technically a Valentine's Day party, but a baby shower for her long time BFF Deb.

Deb had married Ken, her high school sweetheart, and they just decided to come to CU-Boulder and pretend they were normal students like the rest of us.

Really, to them, it was just a grand adventure, being grown-ups and married, but also being college students. I think they were having more fun than we were, actually, since they were getting all the sex and romance they wanted, even to the point of having a kid!

It seemed pretty damned grown-up of them. I envied their situation, but I wasn't quite ready to pop the question at that point with Patty.

I'd grown up a few hours from Boulder in a larger city. There, marrying a high-school sweetheart was unusual, but Patty and Deb were from rural northeastern Colorado near the Wyoming border where it was more normal to marry right out of high school.

Compared to the rest of Colorado, Boulder is a liberal hotbed. It's also pretty big, so CU has both normal students and the oddly-dressed, older, married, night-class b-school execs, pregnant-or-whatever, and non-traditional students. Sprinkled in for fun are a heaping pot of "granola" Rocky-Mountain-High folk.

== Chapter: ...Is Really a Baby Shower ==

A week before this, Deb had told Patty about hearing the fast-paced heartbeat of her impending bundle-of-joy, and they 'just gushed' and Patty decided a baby shower was Quite Necessary.

At least, that's how Patty described it to me. I presume 'gushing' is something akin to saying OMG and putting palms on cheeks or something. I'm an engineer. Please please please don't ask me to define or describe this. Patty is more staid than that; I've no idea what her 'gushing' would look like.

Now, having a party takes work. And, when Patty asks me for help, it's not really an ask. It's something akin to, 'avoid at your peril'. I could have refused but Patty was way more attractive and classy than I was and I wasn't going to risk it.

Plus, my answers for this stuff was consistent anyway: What you need, I Will Do.

What can I say... I'm in love.

On the occasions when I'd needed things - like when I got the flu the previous semester, Deb had played nurse to get me back to health - doting on me with food, tea, meds, blankets, etc.

We went back to normal when I got better: focused on classes.

I loved her, she knew that; the way she helped gave me a good view into her loving me back, too.

As a 'baby shower', the party was an all-girl affair (except for yours-truly). I could complain, but really I didn't mind that much, I knew Deb pretty well, I'd hung around with Patty's friend group for almost a year at that point, and my decorating was only physical, not mental effort.

The location was our shared, rented, huge 1890's Victorian way-off-campus farmhouse. It was plenty big with high ceilings, 6 bedrooms on 3 stories, and a big farm kitchen for feeding field hands, we suspected.

The property was surrounded by scrub pastureland but without animals, had a nice big yard, barn and outbuildings, and was a great change of pace from the frequently hectic campus areas.

Since Valentine's Day was on a Thursday, the campus buzz was that everyone would skip classes Friday (and most profs weren't dicks, they allowed for this).

In attendance were all our roommates plus some other friends. The list:

(note, all the girls were really fit since half were in an IM volleyball league and the other half were otherwise into athletic stuff):

Shelly - Brown straight shoulder-length hair, med frame, trim.

Mary - Volleyball, med height, smaller chest, perky, upbeat, hispanic ROH

Sue - Goth, diff college, long dark hair, muscular, tattoo on inner arm, wicca

Dana - Wicca; light airy clothes, ultra-smart

Maddie - pre-med, smart, volleyball. Taller, thin. ROH

Abra - Jewish, black curly hair, tall, forthright.

Hoki - Japanese-American, bbrun., runner ROH

Sooni - Chinese - Shanghai Cantonese - thin, archery

Kelly - Blonde, short, runner, athletic, cook.

Kim - quiet, black hair, beautiful eyes, amazing, lithe, taller than me.

Patty - my GF, med height/weight, normally kind of shy. ROH

Me - Yeah, I was there, I'm Patty's boyfriend ROH

Deb - the married and preg. one

So, we had a dozen guests and ample wine flowing courtesy of Mary, whose father owned a chain of liquor stores in South Jeffco (Denver SW suburbs).

One of the group, Kelly (a friend mostly of Deb first and the rest second), had brought a treat she'd been saving.

Kelly had gone on an exchange-student trip to Mozambique the previous spring and summer, and brought back cooking spices she'd bought at the local market.

Her idea was to cook them up in an olive-oil based pasta sauce - she'd had something similar over there, so she knew the name of it, but they were spices you just couldn't get in the west.

While she was cooking, we got the whole story.

She said the tastes were amazing, all the food had this distinctive set of flavors and depth but it wasn't something she could get anywhere else - a fair number of the plants they cooked with were local. She said her host family mother was this gracious type who always took huge pride in both making fabulous, nutritious meals, and being a great mom.

Kelly told how she tutored students in English for spare cash, and sometimes their parents would make her dinner, too. It had the side benefit for Kelly of also seeing how normal people lived, and slices of their lives.

Along with meal prep, her host mother had taught her how to shop in the marketplace and buy the right things for the right prices (a definite skill, by her telling).

Kelly had made friends with an older lady there who seemed to know cooking hints for the things she sold, and who always had great spices to add to whatever things Kelly was cooking. Her host mother knew the lady, too, and was happy she'd made a friend.

Near the end of her stay, the market lady knew Kelly was going home soon (she had talked about it), and she asked Kelly if she would like something for a special occasion when she got back home, maybe to cook for a boyfriend or whatever.

Kelly said sure, and the lady said come back tomorrow. She had to go to some trouble to get the right mix for her.

The lady said it would be good in couscous or a starch dish, and said it had a "light-making" flavor that would help even medium-quality food have a taste she'd 'remember for a lifetime', an epic memorable meal, but it was expensive so she should cook it for a someone she loved enough to gift a special meal to.

The lady had wanted quite a bit more money for that transaction, but Kelly figured it was worth it based on previous happy experiences, and it only added up to an extra $20 or so.

That last part, Kelly laughed about because the language they had in common was sometimes not perfect, and hoped it would be that memorable but couldn't promise anything.

This whole discussion happened around the stove, with Kelly telling stories, travel stuff, people and places and situations that would be odd for us but normal for them. That included some families who were Islamic and had four wives and a husband, and while that was a new idea to her, she saw that they made it work with their traditions.

Per her watching this, having kids from different mothers in one house (or connected adjacent houses) meant someone was always around to give hugs and help. But generally, the moms chased their own kids. Like any family type, everybody had their own troubles and hassles, but the kids ended up with lots of extended family to play with so it seemed like a good setup for them.

Since I had tasks still to do for setup (carrying chairs, etc), I heard lots of laughing (and some whispering) though I didn't have a clear idea if the whispering was private stuff about Deb or just girl stuff they didn't want me to hear.

So, back to the party. I was the gopher, carrying gifts in and standing ready with the tractor in case the lane would need plowing out. It was snowing, still being February, but we were prepared. I'd plowed the previous weekend and it was easy-peasy with the front end bucket.

Keep in mind I was mostly a suburban guy, but the tractor was really damn simple to operate - turn it on, wait 20 seconds for the glow plug light to go out, hit the starter, diesel sounds, normal clutch, standard transmission. I felt like "Farmer Bob" in its bouncy seat while driving it, but I had to admit it was seriously fun.

The context for mentioning this is feeling like the studly manly-man who could handle anything that the girls needed me to do, nevermind that intellectually I knew that Deb had grown up on a farm. I'd heard her talk about welding, detasseling corn with machetes, lugging 50 to 75 pound hay bales and feed bags to farm animals, etc. She looked athletic enough, I guessed, but the party's girl's-night vibe and gender roles let me think I was the he-man there.

After we ate, we were all feeling really good, at least they kept saying so, and I figured the wine had gone to their heads. I'd had a couple of coffee-mugs full over the course of the evening, too, and despite Deb being pregnant and not drinking, she seemed really into the celebratory mood with all of us tipsy folk.

Most of the presents they'd gotten Deb were simple, since she didn't know the gender yet. She was only in her 5th month so she wasn't showing much yet, just a little as a bump, plus slightly bigger boobs than her normal B cups.

Along with the presents, the girls either bought or handmade cards. After I'd read the first one out loud to make fun of the sappy but well-meaning sentiments, Deb told me to read them all aloud (to good laughter and 'awww!' sounds).

The simple ones were hand-done "Congrats!" but arguably the best was an imported preprinted fold-out one from Abra. It was in both Hebrew and English. On the front it read, "Welcome Your Baby Beginnings / The Best is Yet to Come / Love and Obey the Love of Your Life / Fill, and Rejoice in Forgivings!"

I guessed that it might rhyme better in Hebrew.

Inside the card were drawings of kids being chased by mothers, knocking things off tables, breaking things, making messes, and even two women having fallen down from running into each other chasing their kids in a park.

It was a very cute card, and I pronounced it 'best yet' and 'true', passed it around.

I'd done some babysitting, and there was a fair amount of chasing and catching involved.

They talked about it for a long time, noting that there were at least a dozen women in the pictures, and that since there were a dozen of them in our group, maybe in some future they could get together and have their kids play together.

This transitioned into laughing that they'd noticed there was precisely one man shown, so maybe all the women had the same guy as a husband. They also joked that he was probably the idiot who had left all that stuff - the vase, picture frames, flour jar, ironing board, egg carton, lamp cord, etc. - precariously and dangerously strewn about.

Patty rescued me. She said proudly, "Oh, No! My Kevin is smart, and capable, and Studly."

This got an, "ooOOOooo" so she added, "He takes good care, and I love him lots and lots and lots..." She kept going with the, '...and lots...", so I knew she was a little tipsy. I accepted the compliment and said, "And I return all the love I get, never lacking."

Kim, holding up her wine glass, added, "Oh, and we all love you, too, Kevin! Thanks for helping. You're very helpful." Looking over at Patty, she said, "... and, _studly_, too!"

They all laughed, and I wondered if I needed to be there, so I started picking up dishes until I had my arms full and headed for the kitchen.

Patty said wait, she'd get the swinging dining-room/kitchen door, but before she opened it, she stepped in between my full arms and gave me a deep, passionate kiss. Our tongues met, light and dancing on each other, a seriously inhale-nice, passionate, and Wow-making kiss.

Breaking the kiss, she pronounced to Kim, right behind her waiting to get to the kitchen, too, "He's mine first, but you can, too, if you want. Jealousy is... stupid."

Kim's smile lit up, and she stepped between my arms (I was still holding dishes) and said in an overly-exaggerated tone and with a huge smile, "And, I do love you, Kevin. I promise not to be jealous... And the other things."

Her kiss was stronger than I expected, but they were at least a little drunk, and I didn't care, what the heck, it was just kisses, and Patty had already said okay.

After she broke off, I was genuinely thankful for it and said, "I love you, too, Kim."

Abra, and then Hoki, then all of them were lined up, and gave me kisses, and said in one way or another the same words, exaggerating each other and getting wild eyes and wild smiles.

These were not casual kisses. These were passionate kisses. I had a feeling some of them were lonely and I was the available guy they had permission to kiss. I didn't object! Strong and soft and grazing and languorous and breathy and tongue-dancing and all the things in between, each competing with the other, I think, to make theirs memorable.

How do I compare kissing a girl I'd never kissed before, who I wasn't in a relationship with, to kissing the girl I did love and have a relationship with? Answer: Not At All, Bad Idea.

Everyone had their pattern and personality and beauty and softness and passion.

I was one frickin' lucky guy, for sure.

After we all put our plates in the sink, it was my job to wash them. I told them, I'm responsible, I'll handle things. Normally, you're... responsible, but we can cooperate." Waving them back into the living room, I continued, "I can do the manly-man studly small stuff. You focus on the love-fest." My magnanimous hand-waving 'I've got this' kept going and I added, "Do the Important things. Share. Life events."

They again seemed tipsy and headed out the kitchen back to the living room where Patty had spread couch cushions and the futon mattress out so everyone could be cozy.

For that matter, I realized I was kind of tipsy, too, discombobulated, but okay enough to do dishes carefully.

Since this was the second load, it took me a while to unload and reload, but I kind of liked it because it got me out of the conversation. I did try for a while to listen to what they were jabbering about, but there was occasional laughing and some "OooOOoooo!" mixed in, too.

I had to go out there again a couple of times to pick up things, and the conversation would pause as I got there. I didn't look them in the eyes at the start, but Patty looked over at me on my second dishes-trip and said, "I love you, Kevin! WE LOVE you, Kevin!"

"And, I love all of you, too... Inside and outside." It was a mini-joke between Patty and me, that I had commented once that I liked both of her sides (front view and back view, she was Sweet and Athletic and Wow). But, the second time I said it, I had to change it up to include the fact that I loved her, so I said I loved her, inside and outside, which was true - she was smart and fun to talk with, entirely on top of having a sweet body, too.

Okay, fine, yes, sorry, I'm bragging, I knew her, and she outclassed me.

After I finished with the dishes, I cleaned up some of the other stuff and put it away, since I didn't know how long the party would last. Based on their alcohol intake, though, I figured it would be a while, but there's no telling with some groups.

One part that I overheard (sounds carried) was Patty describing that she'd come from a big family and she wanted one for herself, and then someone else said they did, too, and I wondered what they meant by that. Big means different things to different people, after all.

== Chapter: I Get Put on the Spot ==

My job scrubbing the burned-on stuff off the stovetop was put on pause when Patty came into the kitchen just enough to poke her head in and say, "Kevin. Follow me."

She held out her hand and pulled/led me back into the room where all eyes were on us... Or, really, they were on me.

Abra was leaning and took me (by the hand, too) from Patty (who went to sit on the arm of a nearby chair) and said, "Kevin. True or false: You want a big family."

This was a setup!

Obviously, the question had come from Patty, but she didn't want to be the person who asked it. And, I knew the right answer - my parents were pretty good role models, and my dad had given me girlfriend advice that had been pretty solid.

Dad had said, "Life is negotiations. In relationship debates, set up a position slightly farther out than your real position, and then be ready to compromise but still get your needs met. You may end up with nothing, but don't give up too easily."

This was in my mind.

I did want a medium-big family. For me, that meant at least 3 or 4 kids, not just one or two. Most of the time I'd heard it talked about in my friend-group, the girls didn't want that many, and I figured the best way out of this was to name a large number as a starting negotiation position. But, Patty had already said she wanted a big one, so I was torn.

I tried to be diplomatic and said to Abra (half-smiling with how I was being careful to phrase it right), "The Best answer is obviously, "I will want whatever she wants..." The girls all did the pro-forma impressed-with-right-answer, "WooooOOOOooo!".

Tempering that and being funny, I added a mock-unknowing bewildered look, "Whoever _she_ is..." I was smiling and looked over at Patty, but then looked around the room pretending with my eyes it could be any of them, as if it could be a mystery. It wasn't. I loved Patty. Still, I got some bemused looks back from all of them.

This reaction didn't seem to be complete, because no one said anything. I looked over at Patty and saw she was looking nervous and unsure - I hadn't really answer the question, and they all knew it.

My non-committal diplomatic answer was not a real number or type of number.

Mustering up as much reasonableness in my voice as I could, I said mostly to Abra (who had been the one asking), "Yes, I want a big family, the biggest ever, and I'll love every one of them with all my heart and soul, forever. But, I'm negotiable on numbers - all of life is a negotiation and compromise is part of it."

My smile was me trying to be wise.

Abra nodded, as this was a better answer, but she wanted more. "Yeah, yeah, fine, suck-up. But what do you really want?"

I deliberately took this the wrong way to duck the question, and re-paraphrased the question.

Looking at Abra and tilting my head in an imagination at what kind of things I'd like my kids to have as character traits, I said, "What kind of family do I really want? Yeah, I guess, whatever, as long as they're happy and healthy, and anything else - active, smart, organized, uh, tidy, athletic... frugal, hard-working... I guess there's beauty in many things."

Abra smiled back at me in a super-nice way, I thought, like she cared what I said, and I liked that, but then she said, "Okay, okay, good enough. Go on, Love-Bird, back to the kitchen for your one night of work."

They all laughed at me being dismissed, and I headed back to the kitchen to finish cleaning glassware by hand, it wouldn't all fit in the dishwasher.

I'd been to two previous gatherings like this 'girls night' event.

The first was a breakup "party" when Maddie (another house resident) had broken up with her long-time boyfriend and got some sympathy from her friends/housemates. I was unavoidably there as a designated driver, and in case something happened.