Opening Day

Chapter 12: Jones vs. Jones

Jonesy rounded the corner and stopped, pressing herself against the cool brick of the theater. She breathed hard and heavy, wiping the tears from her eyes once again with the back of her fists. She breathed out, growling on the verge of ugly crying, but steeled herself and found the strength to hold it together. A few steps away were three payphones lined up against the wall. She dug aggressively into her jean pockets, finding a quarter, an old ticket stub, and a receipt, folded thoughtfully into a square. She dropped the coin into the slot and dialed home. The phone rang. And rang. And rang. She sighed, growling and rolling her eyes. Of course, no one was answering. She knew Connie would be passed out on the couch by now and Ray was probably in the garage playing around with his computers. The only one who might pick up the phone was the absolute last person she wanted to talk to at this moment. Jonesy took in some new air to extend her already lengthy growl and clenched her whole body when there was a sudden interruption in the ringing.

"Hello?" A sleepy, slightly disoriented voice asked from the other side.

Jonesy unclenched, her eyes lighting up in utter surprise, "Mom??"

"Twizzler? Is that you, honey?" Connie asked, like a medium reaching out to the spirit world.

"Mom! Mom, could you pick me up? Please? I'm at Dreamland Theater."

"Theater? What the heck are you doing there, sweetie?" There was a pause of contemplation, "Didn't I just see you?"

"No, Mom, that was probably...Gina? Maybe? I saw you when I left for work this morning, remember?"

Silence.

"Look, it doesn't matter. Could you pick me up, please?"

"Can't Max pick you up, honey?"

"No." She said a little too curt, she tried to catch herself, "No, ma, he's busy with something. With Louie."

"Who's Louie...?"

Jonesy strangled the phone, then regained her composure, "Mom! Can you pick me up??"

"I'm kind of in the middle of something, to be honest, Twizzler." Sitting on the couch at home, Connie gestured to literally nothing, in performance for literally no one, "Can't you ask your father?"

Jonesy pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut in frustration, "Can you ask him, I'm here at the theater. You are at home, likely, where you can find my father."

Connie thought about this for a moment. She would have to get up to go pick up her eldest daughter, but she would also have to get up to find Ray. Plus she might even have to have a conversation of some kind with her husband. None of these options were ideal. Though, one option would give her an opportunity to spend some quality time with one of her children. She nailed it earlier with Gina. Could she go two for two, tonight?

"You know what, honeybug? I'll be there. Just let me put some undies on and I can be there in two shakes!"

Jonesy punched the air with ironic enthusiasm, "Awesome. Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it. I'll be waiting by the stop sign."

Connie smooched Jonesy over the phone, promising to be there soon.

Jonesy hung up the phone. She took her hat off, held it between her teeth, and ran her fingers through her hair before letting out a deep sigh. She replaced it and began walking towards the stop sign. Once there she sat on the curb, leaning back with her arms behind her and looked at the cold night's sky. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the stub and the receipt. It was back in August when her and Max had gone to see Escape from L.A. She smiled, remembering how Max had worn an eye patch for the whole week leading up to the movie. He thought it made him look bad ass. She thought he just looked like he had pink eye. She chuckled to herself for a second before her mind assaulted her with the image of Max and her sister slurping on each other's faces. Repulsed, she pushed it away as fast as possible, crumpling the ticket and throwing it into the street.