I can almost feel the weight of Nash's bank account as his credit card fumbles around in my back pocket. I think it's dragging me down with it. We are technically living off of him at the moment. When this little break is over then I can go back to my middle class life.
"Do you need help?" An elderly women taps me on the shoulder as I look over the paint supplies. I hand her the list and she gapes.
"You big on drawing, boy?" Her red hair his curly and it kind of makes me smile. She reminds me a lot of my nana. I remember she was supposed to take me and Nash to the beach one day but I knew that if we didn't leave early, we'd be sitting in the worst spot in the sand. She insisted on staying home because she couldn't get her hair right; but that's every woman.
"Uh- No. My friend is ... quite the artist." Her wrinkly smile widens at my words. She begins to lead me to a specific isle with a bunch of art supplies. Half of the things I'm laying my eyes on, I didn't know existed. For example what the hell is a double ended embossing tool? Kind of looks like a knitting needle. The women laughs at me.
"You're a new face. Move here recently?" The way she speaks makes me assume this town is very tight with each other. I shake my head.
"oh, no. I was just visiting my grandmothers hou-" She cuts me off completely, clapping her hands cheerfully. her excitement catches me off guard.
"That's wonderful. Kids don't usually worry about things like that. Wow, I'm impressed you make it your duty!" And I frown at her words. I was one of those kids that she described. I abandoned my grandmother. I didn't visit her at all. No one did and I knew it.
"She died so um- yeah." I toss the strange art supply back where I got it from and continue looking for Nash's things. Bertha, as her name tag says, quiets. One hand on her heart and the other on my shoulder.
"Oh my- I'm sorry. Who was she?"
"Tiffany Dallas. The most beautiful person you'd ever meet. Inside and out.... I miss her." Bertha gasps.
"You're Tiffany's grandchild? I would've never guessed. You are in the pretty gene pool." Her compliment makes me smile but I don't read into it. Old people compliment you even if it isn't true. I guess that's why they reign innocent and sweet.
"Can you come over for lunch tomorrow? There may be something you might want to see." I nod and accept on spot.
