Cherry

Chapter 10

Cherry

Ethan had several ideas on how he could help out my family with money. Of course, I didn't want to accept his help. It's not his responsibility to worry about my family's finances. I told my Mom about Ethan's ideas while Momma was asleep, expecting her to laugh along with me about how he's crazy for wanting to help. But, Mom said I was the crazy one for not wanting his help. She told me he was trying to do a sweet favor to win me over and I'm crazy for not accepting.

"I don't need help from him," I told my Mom.

"Oh, Cherry. Why are you being so stubborn? He's trying to win you over by helping us, you know that, right?" Mom laughed.

I got defensive. "We're just friends, Mom. He's trying to be friendly."

"Mhmm," she smiled. "You know how Momma is, Cherry. She doesn't like people pitying her, but a fundraiser wouldn't hurt. We could surprise your Momma with the money once we've raised the amount."

I was on the fence about Ethan's fundraiser idea, but Mom convinced me to let him arrange it. He has a degree in business, so he knows a lot of good marketing strategies. I was just afraid that Momma wouldn't like the idea because with this fundraiser, everyone in town would be finding out about her diagnosis.

So, here I am, sitting outside of the diner in a lawn chair, both of us wearing pink to raise awareness for breast cancer. We have a table set up with a sign-up sheet and raffle tickets. Ethan convinced Sylas to let us do the fundraiser outside of the diner because we'd get a lot more people to donate since the diner gets a shit ton of customers. Next to us are three of my large paintings I've painted over the years. Realistic landscapes that range from a snowy night to an early spring morning with rabbits in the corner. These paintings don't mean a lot to me, so I'm making them the prizes for the raffle.

Ethan is really good at talking to people. He's convinced at least ten people to buy five raffle tickets instead of one, just by being a people pleaser and a good businessman. It's like he was made to do stuff like this for a living.

"How are you so good at this?" I laugh as someone writes their name on the sign-up sheet.

"Oh, you know. I only went to school to do this for four years," he leans back in his chair and relaxes his hands behind his head.

"Okay, true," I smile. Today we've already raised about three hundred dollars, which is a lot when we've only been doing this for two hours. The temperature has been scorching hot today, and we've both been sweating in our chairs, but at least we're raising money for Momma. And, of course, a few people have passed by, just glancing at the sign and giving me a look. A look that says, I know your moms are gay and you're a big freak. At least there are some good people out of the ignorant assholes and we've gottten a good turnout so far. 

"I still can't believe how good you are at painting," Ethan looks over at my paintings. "You're like fucking Van Gogh."

"I'm not even close to being Van Gogh," I chuckle.

"You're right. You're way better. I might have to buy one of them from you to hang up in my room," he smirks at me.

"Well, Ethan," I smile. "Lucky for you, there's a raffle you can enter to have the chance to win one of these three paintings."

Ethan gets out his wallet and places fifteen dollars in the tiny safe that sits in front of us, which buys him five tickets. "Fingers crossed," he writes his name on the sheet underneath the other contenders.

"Hey sweetie," I look away from Ethan and see Mom standing in front of the raffle table, wearing pink, just like Ethan and I.

"Hey Mom," I smile and stand up and hug her. "Where's Momma?"