You Make The Pain Fade Away

Chapter Eight

“Red is here,” Grandma shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Red had invited me to cruise to the theater. She had proclaimed that she felt utterly guilty by the last dilemma between her and Jackson.

I gave one last analysis at my reflection, before I descended the first flight of stairs. Grandma had greeted me with a smile.

“Have fun, darling,” she softly mumbled.

“I will.”

“Is John staying in tonight?,” she asked. I shook my head. John had left, after he dropped me off last night from work. I don’t apprehend what’s been up with him.

“I’ll see you later, Grandma,” I kissed her cheek and then declined the last stairs and absconded outdoors. Red was resting in her car. I joined her in the passenger seat.

“Howdy,” she grinned, offering her cigar. I shook my head.

“No thanks,” I rejected her request. She shrugged, placing her car into gear.

“How’s Sam?,” I asked.

“Good as always. I like your outfit,” she said, glancing at me. I gazed down at myself. I had chosen denim shorts and a black & white, striped, loose shirt that hung from one shoulder. It had took me years to come upon a conclusion on my outfit.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry bout’ last time. Jackson is just a big mistake.”

“Mistake?,” I blurted out without rethinking her statement.

“Ya see, we were both drunk at this party and we didn’t know each other. We were both heated like a bowl of hot stew and we had a one night stand,” she paused, taking a long breath of the irritating smoke. “Sam was the outcome.”

“I love my son, but Jackson is just something else,” she continued.

“You don’t like him, right?”

“Hell no,” she sucked another puff from her cigar. “I try to push him away.”

“Have you ever considered giving him a chance? I mean you don’t know him and he either. Maybe what you both need is a date,” I explained. She laughed, shaking her head.

She didn’t reply. She seemed to be regarding my advice. I believe they’re a cute couple, but now that I reckoned all of this confession, it really astonished me.

“Ya think I should do that?,” she said quietly, her eyes concentrated on the road. She was gripping the steering wheel as if she was abashed of my disclosure.

“Do it for your son. He needs both of you,” I responded. She winced for a second.

“You’re right,” she murmured.

She parked at a small theater in town. We hopped off and approached the entrance. I let her choose the movie and we each paid for our ticket to prevent a disagreement.

I bought a smoothie and Red bought a large bag of buttery popcorn. We decided the top would be perfect and because there weren’t many people.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?,” Red asked me, turning sideways to gaze at me.

“No.”

“John and you will-,” she began, smirking.

“No way!,” I screeched, my eyes widening.

“Oh c’mon, John is stunning hot. How could you not like him?,” she said, stuffing popcorn into her mouth. I was sure that I was red like a tomato, but I was glad it was dark enough.