Page 21 of The Kat Bunglar

Instead of giving them the apology they wanted but did not deserve, Kat rolled her eyes and stood her ground. “In my defense, I thought it was a trendy cosmetology school. How was I supposed to know they were still doing courses on chunky highlights? It was so backdated, Abu. You just don’t understand these things.”

“Okay, okay. It’s time to walk Mr. Benji. Let’s go.” Her mother announced this with a cautious glance at Kat, like one wrong word would send her spiraling back into a psychiatric ward.

“Who’s Benji?” Kat asked, stabbing her fork into the potatoes and cabbage curry—just as a cocker spaniel strutted into the kitchen, stretched, and preened for attention.

“You got a dog?” Kat demanded, outraged. “I begged you for a dog all through high school, and you always said they were too much work.”

“Yes. You and a dog are too much work,” her father replied. “But Mr. Benji, all by himself, is quite lovable and easy to manage. Aren’t you, Mr. Benji? Aren’t you?”

To Kat’s absolute shock and horror, her father picked up the dog and tickled its belly.

Without another word, her parents thankfully walked out the kitchen door into their backyard.

Kat shot Christian a look and hissed in a vicious whisper, “Alright, what’s the plan? We’ve got to get out of here ASAP.”

“What’s the rush? It’s so pretty here,” Christian yawned, smiling sleepily.

Kat did a double take, taking in Christian’s mascara-smudged eyes and wild, unbound hair. “Well, last I checked, we both had a few bills that needed funding assistance. Remember, we were pursuing the ‘government bailout’ we deserve in these trying times?”

Christian rolled her eyes. “I was checking out her socials this morning. She and her husband come into town today, Kat. We literally have five hours to pull this thing off. The only direct flight from Montego Bay lands at 3 p.m. It’s going to take us an hour to get back to her apartment. That gives us a four-hour window to get in and out. It’s insane! We can’t pull this off.”

Christian took a sip of her chai. “And that’s if you manage not to pass out again. And that’s a bigif. I’m staying here and eating theShorshe Ilishyour mom is making for lunch. You can count me out.”

She turned back to The New York Times crossword puzzle, the corners of her mouth slightly tilted upwards.

Something was off about Christian. Kat couldn’t put her finger on it. She seemed... lighter. Almost giddy.

“Why do you look so happy?” Kat asked suspiciously.

Christian scoffed. “I’m a happy person. As you know, ‘Happy is the one who takes refuge in the Lord.’”

Kat stared, unblinking.

Christian flashed her a mischievous grin. “Okay, fine. Joseph messaged me last night, and I think he’s sorry. He wants to reconcile and really work through our issues.” She sighed dreamily. “I just woke up feeling hopeful. Like God was leading me down the rightful path.”

Kat was dumbfounded, acutely aware of the clock ticking in the background—along with their chances of grabbing that pile of cash slipping precariously away. She swallowed her annoyance and forced a smile. “That sounds like quite the conversation. What did he say?”

Christian blushed. “Not so much what he said, but what he showcased.”

Kat almost choked on her roti. “Please tell me you did not sext in my parents’ house. No one has sex in this house. Not even my parents.”

Christian had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed. “We kept it PG-13.”

“I don’t understand—last time we talked, you and your ancestors were going to rain down Haitian curses and make sure he and his clan never procreated again. But now? Everything’s fine? How?”

“Haitians are a passionate people. The sun exploding is no match for our anger. But when we love...” Christian’s voice hitched. “We lurve hard.”

Kat felt her breakfast sour in her stomach as she furiously scrolled through her phone.

“Okay, um... how does that work when he still has a website with a make-believe charity that states you will contribute $12,363?”

“We’re working through that. He said it would take some time for the website to come down. But anything my followers contribute will be towards a just and righteous cause. He’s such a good person, Kat. Can’t you see that?”

Kat’s face spasmed.

Struggling to contain her frustration. Kat realized in that instant, that a happy Christian was way more annoying than a depressed Christian. If Kat were being brutally honest, she might actually prefer depressed Christian.

Kat slowly backed away from the kitchen table and moved to the stove top, where the morning chai continued to simmer on low. She grabbed a mug and poured the contents carefully, being sure to strain out the cardamom and cloves. She took a sip and forced herself to think.

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