Noah
Trouble: Hey what are you up to tonight?
Trouble: Oh, can I join?
I don’t respond.
Nobody hurts me better than myself. Insomnia declared war against me last night. I still haven’t told Charlie about the record deal. I’m still just soaking in every bit of time I have with her. But I know I need to slowly push away, and I don’t know how.
“Tonight is the night!” Gramps licks his lips as we enter the bingo hall, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I’m gonna get that basket of dark chocolate.” He pulls out his lucky blue rabbit's foot from his pocket before kissing it.
“Take it easy, Bingo isn’t going anywhere.” He hurries across the floor to get to his seat.
After weeks of him not utilizing his oxygen tank I finally convinced him otherwise.
We weren’t going to his bingo night unless he obliged, so he did.
It was like having an argument with a five year old.
He huffed and puffed, telling me I couldn’t force him to do anything.
But the second bingo night was questioned, he caved in.
He uses his cane to shuffle across the floor to his seat next to Ms. Donna wearing her yellow floral dress.
She’s got short curly white hair, and always brings homemade cookies.
When those two sit next to each other, he’s always flirting up a storm and using his pick up lines.
She’s already placing a hand on his shoulder, rubbing his back as she kisses him on the cheek.
I grab his bingo cards and let the ladies know I already have one when they offer me a dauber. Yep, I scrolled through for the perfect hot-pink dauber. It says “shit” and I look forward to his expression as he marks his bingo card.
I sit on the hard plastic chair next to him while giving him his cards and dauber.
Gramps is adjusting his reading glasses while studying his cards.
The building is filled with the hint of old people's smell and stale coffee.
Fairy lights string around the bingo hall, and the chatting fills the room.
Once the place is packed and the tables are filled up, the caller turns on the bingo blower and starts pulling up balls.
Their voice booms over the loudspeaker, announcing numbers.
Gramps’ dauber hovers across the cards, checking each number.
When he finds one matching, he giggles with excitement and presses the stamper down.
When he glances at it, he puckers his lips then looks at me with his glasses at the tip of his nose.
“You little shit, where did you get this?” He looks at the pink tip.
“Merry Christmas,” I chuckle taking one of Ms. Donna’s cookies. I wave it up to her and she smiles with lipstick stuck to her front teeth.
“It’s summer...” Gramps blinks and snags a cookie as well, stuffing his face and getting crumbs between the creases of his lips.
“Christmas in July.”
“It’s August,” he replies dryly.
Another number is called and Gramps bounces in his seat while scanning each card, and I point it out as soon as I find it.
The chair next to me scrapes against the floor and a fruity scent wafts by, filling my lungs.
It’s so much better than the mothballs emanating from vintage handbags and sweaters.
I turn as Charlie scoots in with several bingo cards and her own dauber.
Her damp hair curls naturally as it dries, she isn’t wearing an ounce of makeup, and I hear myself swallow my own heart.
“Hey Trouble, didn’t think you’d come.” I really didn’t, but I can see it in her eyes that she really wants to be around me.
“I didn’t want anyone hitting on you and stealing you from me so I thought I’d tag along.” She gives me the biggest, most infectious smile.
“Me?” I press a hand to my chest. “Man, the women here are top notch. Ms. Donna made cookies. Might take her home with me.” I dip my head in her direction and take a bite of the chocolate chip goodness, and Charlie’s mouth drops.
Ms. Donna didn’t hear me – her hearing aid just squeals a high pitch tone and she grabs a cookie with a shaky hand offering it to Charlie.
“Thank you.” She takes it and nibbles at it.
“You didn’t have to come here. This is honestly just something I do for him every month.” I give her a pitiful smile.
“Hey, it’s bingo. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Shh...shh!” Gramps puts his finger up to his lips, hushing us. “You two are gonna distract me.” He points the dauber as the caller pulls out another ball, reads it out, and displays it on the overhead.
“I’m gonna beat you,” Charlie bites her tongue uncapping her dauber.
“That dark chocolate basket is mine,” Gramps hisses then refocuses on the game as if it were the Superbowl.
Bingo could be classified as an extreme sport with him.
This will probably be the death of Gramps if he doesn’t win.
The first Bingo is called with an older lady up front waving her card and dabber in the air.
“Ugh...” Gramps clamps his bony fingers around the dauber hard enough to snap it in half. He bangs his fists on the table with his nose flaring.
“There are plenty of baskets.” I place a hand on his shoulder. The older lady went after the basket of wine and cheese. The chocolate is still up for grabs.
After several more rounds, a few other old goons win, grabbing their baskets of goodies. Gramps slumps more and more as the caller doesn’t announce any of his numbers while Charlie and Ms. Donna keep punching away.
There are only two baskets left after a little over an hour of playing – the chocolate basket and some sort of spa basket.
Gramps’ face is pure Grumpy. The frown, the angry look, and his brows were even drawn tightly together.
One more number is called and in unison Charlie and Ms. Donna stand up with their cards.
“Bingo!”
Gramps says nothing as Charlie and Ms. Donna head up front to claim their baskets. They both converse with each other up front. Ms. Donna grabs the spa basket while Charlie snatches the chocolate. It plops to the table, and Charlie scoots it in front of Gramps.
“Here!” she flutters her eyelashes. “I won it for you.”
“You keep it. I didn’t win it,” Gramps wines. “Dag-nabbit!”
“But you wanted it.” She scoots it closer to him, “I wanna share it.”
“I don’t want it!” He grumbles again, using a palm to steady himself as he stands up. He struggles to grab his cane and oxygen tank. I take the basket, the wrapping crinkling in my grip.
“Thank you,” I lean and whisper into her ear when I see how her face has fallen. “This is sweet of you. Don’t mind him. He just really wanted to win it himself. Tomorrow he’ll be eating it.”
“Okay,” she whispers back, perking up a little.
Gramps says goodbye to Ms. Donna and scuffles to the truck. Charlie follows behind me, with her thighs kicking up her purse as she walks. She stands patiently as I help Gramps into the passenger side, making sure he buckles up. But the second he does, he tears off the oxygen nose plug.
“You need to keep that on,” I argue, knowing it’s just a waste of words and energy I don’t have.
“It ain’t doing shit,” he grumbles, and this is when I start to block it out. The words he says, the way he’s acting. “You can’t tell me what to do!” he yells, spit flying. “What the hell do you know? Huh!”
“Yep...” I suck in a deep breath, my lungs getting tighter by the second.
“That piece of garbage doesn’t help me!”
It would, but we just don’t like things over our ears and shoved up our noses.
It irritates him, but he can’t formulate that into words.
It’s the same with his medication. He avoids them because he gets nauseous and groggy.
With them he can’t function. I place his cane and the chocolate basket behind the seat.
I close the truck door and turn to meet Charlie’s pretty little face.
She stood there so patiently with sparkling grey eyes and a smile to die for.
“I’m going to take him home, get him settled and head over to Omen’s for a bit.”
“Can I tag along...”
“Not tonight, we’re making some pretty big decisions, and we are finishing up the demo. I'm sure you need to study and stuff.”
She rubs her upper arm, and her face sinks. She crushes dirt underneath her shoes and glances down at the damp pavement. “Are we okay? You’ve been kinda off.”
“I have a lot to do tonight, and I get you wanna spend time with me, but...”
“But what?”
“I’m not trying to be the bad guy here. I want to be with you... it's just...”
“What are you saying?”
That I like you more than anything I’ve liked before. Maybe I like you more than music. But I’m not going to be good enough for you. I can’t give you a life you deserve, and in the long run, there is no way I can make this work. “It's...” I pause.
“What is it? The last time this happened to me was when...” She bites her bottom lip and her eyes are glistening. “You’re avoiding me... just like...”
“I thought I could date,” I take a deep breath and my hands clench down on my truck keys.
“...and if I did date it would be with you but this is just too much for me. This is just something I do with my Gramps once a month. And you even showed up here. It’s not that I don’t want to see you or hang out with you, but you can’t show up out of nowhere.
I need to focus on him, and my music, and you should focus on school. ”
“Right.. Yeah... sorry.” She ruffles her hair and she swallows hard. “All I wanted was to spend time with you... but I get it. I’ll go.” She points a thumb behind her.
“Wait...” I reach and grasp her hand before she can book it. “We can be friends.”
“So this is real... this is really what’s happening. So what have we been doing for these past few weeks? Was this just sex? I thought you couldn’t open up to anyone, and now on some random bingo night you wanna end it?”
Fuck no... Shit. I don’t want to end it, I just have to. I'm coming off as that guy. I say nothing. Maybe if I leave her with that impression she’ll get over me sooner. We’ll stop talking on a random Tuesday morning, and become strangers. “I gotta go. I’m sorry.”