Page 94 of Dirty Chorus

“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...”