Chapter 7 Red - Ain’t no thang but a chicken wang #2
Chris is also somewhat of a staple around town.
He’s young—I think he just recently turned eighteen.
He’s not really a pain in my ass. Well, not all of the time.
His grandma paid me a lot of money over the years to keep him entertained while babysitting.
He’s weird as fuck, but like, everyone is.
He just hasn’t quite figured out his place yet, and I think that’s perfectly fine.
I let my arms drop, still holding onto each package. “Ugh.”
“I promise! I take the quality control of this place very seriously!”
“Chris, shut up.” I lift the two boxes of popcorn. “I don’t know which one to pick.”
“Seriously?” He tilts his head and adjusts his giant, black framed glasses that make his eyes bug out a little. “The obvious answer is movie theater.”
Good enough for me. I place the extra butter back on the shelf and walk to the register. “Sold.”
I don’t know why I’m overthinking this. It’s microwavable popcorn.
Am I making a pit stop at The Store for this one specific thing to subtly hint at and hopefully score an invite to a movie night with Miller and Penelope for the second night in a row?
Who’s to say?
But aside from the butter trip-up, I’m feeling on fucking fire today.
Taking a day to rest and reset isn’t something I’ve allowed myself in a very long time, and I know I have a long way to go, but past me is really fucking proud of current me for putting in the work to find pockets of slow joy.
After my very satisfying couch nap, I took my time getting ready before my weekly—but is sort of becoming way more than once a week—dinner with Miller and Penelope.
It was nice to sit in front of my vanity and play with my makeup again.
I finally felt like I could put mascara on without fear of it streaking down my face from tears.
I even curled my hair—just for the hell of it.
Okay, not for the hell of it. I might have sort of noticed Miller staring at my hair when it’s like this one or twice and thought maybe I should try it out again. For like, science.
Chris lets out a low whistle when I reach his register. It’s harmless because, well, it’s Chris. I changed his diapers as a baby and consoled him when he cried after he lost his first tooth.
“Red, might I just say—”
But boy, does he try. “Chris, if you’re about to hit on me, you may not.”
He immediately looks down to scan the box of popcorn. “Yes, ma’am.”
As much as I do not need Chris Roberts painfully trying to make a move, the attempt tells me that I must have done something right. It’s the confidence boost I needed before heading over to the cafe.
“So, what’s shakin’?” I ask Chris as he takes his sweet time bagging the one item I’m buying.
“Nothing. Grandma is trying to get me to enroll at the community college. I’m not sure I want to.”
I check the time on my phone. “I have a few minutes, want to talk it out?”
“I don’t need to burden you with my woes.”
“God, you’re so fucking dramatic. C’mon, Chris. Give me the pros and cons.”
He sighs, and it takes everything in me to not flick him in annoyance. I don’t even know why he’s putting on this act. It’s not like he’s ever had a problem asking me for help in literally every aspect of his life. Despite how many times I’ve told him I do not ever need the dirty details.
“I really don’t want to bother you, Red.”
“You’re not bothering me. I’m offering!” I throw my hands up, about ready to tell him nevermind and dash the hell out of here.
“Well, since you asked…”
Fucking finally.
“If you didn’t have Red’s, where would you be?”
“Honestly? I’ve never thought about it. The place literally has my name on the door and has since I learned how to walk. But, I’m pretty sure it’s normal to not have your entire life planned out at eighteen.”
“It feels like everyone in this town does, though. Everyone except me.”
“That’s simply not true,” I retort.
Chris shrugs his shoulders. Seeing him dejected like this isn’t something I enjoy. I’d rather him try to hit on me again.
“Chris.” I gently shove his arm. “What’s holding you back from at least trying?”
“Failing,” he answers immediately.
“Now that is something I know a thing or two about. I’ve failed with a lot of stuff, and I turned out fine! Failed tests, failed gym, hell—I even failed my marriage!” I will use self deprecating humor to get him out of this funk. I don’t care.
The door jingles the same bell trill I have at Red’s, and I turn my head to see Daisy Stiles walk in as Chris says, “Red, I think everyone would agree leaving Dean Fitzgerald is the best thing that could have ever happened to you.”
“A-fucking-men to that, my dude,” Daisy says.
“Alright, we’re not dogpiling on me. Not today.”
Daisy leans her head into my shoulder. I feel the long, black curls of her hair tickle my arm, her signature daisy crocheted bandana sitting perfectly in place on the top of her head.
She knows it’s very much so on the nose, just like being named after a flower by her two florist parents.
She’s never cared what anyone thought about her though, and it’s something I admire a lot.
“We’re not dogpiling, we’re just still celebrating your freedom,” she says.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Feels the same,” I respond.
Chris finally hands me the plastic bag with my single box of popcorn, and I tap my card on the reader to pay.
“It’s not,” Daisy replies. “Anyway, any plans tonight? I was gonna text Margot, but it’s Thursday so Sawyer’s probably fucking her against a washing machine.”
We both turn our heads to Chris when we hear him choke on air.
He shakes his head to let us know he’s good as he takes a sip of water.
We all know his unrequited infatuation with Sawyer Hale and pay no mind to it.
Margot blew into town and now gets to live out his dream.
He’s still trying to swallow it. Literally.
Daisy continues, “And I was going to see what Beth was up to. I have some ad ideas to run by her. But when I pulled up to the riverside, I saw Gus was still there and decided my day didn’t need ruining by that oaf.”
Their hatred for each other truly knows no bounds, and as much as I would fucking love to meddle, I don’t have the time or energy to unpack a decade’s worth of rivalry over seemingly nothing. It works just fine this way.
“Sorry, Daze. I have dinner with Miller and Penelope. I don’t have anything going on this weekend though, we could plan something with Margot?”
She tries to hide her disappointment, but I don’t miss the way her face falls. I know she hates being home, but I also know if I tried to invite her right now, she’d decline, thinking she’s a burden or something.
“No worries! Of course we can do something, text the group chat when you’re free.”
“I get off in an hour. I don’t have plans…” Chris throws out.
Daisy smirks. “Good to know, Christopher. The twins have a new Lego set they probably wouldn’t mind some help with.
Pop over next door to be a doll and help them out?
” She tilts her head slightly and lets those big, brown eyes widen.
I count to three in my head while I watch Chris fall into a trance.
Daisy pulls her bottom lip in with her teeth for good measure.
I know this act well. Daze and I have never had a problem tag teaming and leveling up our flirt game to get what we want in certain situations. Pawning off Chris to keep her eleven-year-old twin brothers occupied? An easy move. A smart one.
He nods. “Sure, sure. Sounds fun, yeah. Of course, Daisy.”
Daisy leans over the counter, smacking a kiss on his cheek. “Ugh, you’re the best. They’re gonna love that.” She straightens back up and stands on her toes to quickly pop a kiss on my cheek before she leaves. “Text me when you’re home after dinner, ‘kay?”
“Yes, captain,” I answer.
Once the door shuts, and both Chris and I watch Daisy saunter back over to The Fuzzy Leaf, her family’s flower shop, I hear Chris let out a frustrated sigh. “I fell for it again, didn’t I?”
I clap a hand on his shoulder before I make my way out.
“Yeah, my dude, you did. Don’t let it get you down though.
And hey, about school?” He perks up, and I wish I had some more solid advice for him than I do, but I give it my best shot.
“Carpenter Valley Community lets you try out classes for two weeks before having to commit. So, no money lost if you hate it and bail. Tell Judy you’re gonna give it a shot. ”
Chances are, his grandmother just wants to see him doing something. Like I said, he’s a good kid. Just needs a solid kick in the ass sometimes.
The relief on his face when he hears a solution that requires almost no commitment is laughable. “Thanks, Red. I don’t know how you do it, knowing everything about everyone. You’re the best.”
“It ain’t no thang but a chicken wang, Chris.”
I leave The Store feeling positive. I walk down the little alley between the Main Street buildings to reach the back, humming one of my favorite songs and swinging my plastic bag like an idiot.
I reach the only unlabeled door. It leads directly into the apartment above the cafe where I know I’m about to have dinner with two people who have quickly become fixtures in my life.
I ignore the pang of worry I feel when I think about how I’m probably more attached to them than I’m letting on. Miller and Penelope are my tenants, my best friend’s family, my…friends. None of this is a big deal.
God fucking damn it, I sound like Margot.