Ch. 91: Oh, Ms. Believer

12.1K 272 262
                                    

"Oh, miss believer, my pretty sleeper. Your twisted mind is like snow on the road. Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder. Inside your head than the winter of dead."

Oh, Ms. Believer- twentyone pilots

--

Dawn P.O.V.

"Grandma, Pap!" I hug my grandparents as they enter the foyer.

"Oh dear, you've gotten so big," my grandma squeezes me tighter.

"Hi, sweetheart." Pap squeezes my other side.

I haven't seen them since June; it's been too long.

"How've you been honey?" My grandma asks as she releases the hug.

"Mom, don't you think you want to settle down before we get to the whole question an answer." My mother lightly scolds her.

"Shush Marsha. I haven't seen my grandbaby for months, let me get a look at her." She pinches my cheeks between her thumbs and index fingers. Her dark blue eyes are swimming with emotion. Her white hair is, only growing lighter in the sun that reflects the windows. "You look just like me when I was younger." She sighs with a smile across her lips. "Young and full of life. You're happy, aren't you? I can feel it."

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? You're here." I grasp her arms and push her hands to my shoulders instead of my face.

"No. It's not just me."

"Pap too."

"Don't worry, Dawn. She forgets about me all the time." Pap quips and slaps my grandma's butt.

"Pap. Don't be disgusting." My mom says, taking generous sips of her cup.

My grandma let's go of me and glares at my Pap. "We better get settled then, or Pap is going to get even in more trouble." She leans into him. He pinches her once more before grabbing his and her luggage. My grandma is a step behind him.

"It's the first door on the right," my mother calls out, rolling her eyes.

"What's with the attitude?" I tease my mother. She gets extra anxious around my grandmother, and I don't know why.

"Dawn, not now."

"They don't know, do they?"

"About your father?"

I nod. She shakes her head in response. "Not yet. I'll tell them when you're not here. I don't want them pouring questions into you. They've always ridiculed me for marrying him in the first place, and they'll be happy to know he's out of the picture." She sips her coffee mug; staring aimlessly at the floor, "Your grandmother is such a hypocrite."

"Why you would you say that? Pap is great."

"Pap isn't my father." I already know this, but I always forget. My real grandfather left my grandmother when my mother was only three years old. My grandma met Pap when my mom was ten.

"Yes, he is. Don't say such things." Sometimes I forget who's the child and the adult when it comes to my mother and I's relationship.

"Shush. I'm allowed to say one terrible thing." I look down into her mug and find that it's not coffee or tea, but red wine. My grandma hates alcohol, so this won't go well if she sees. "Don't you have a boyfriend to invite for dinner." She murmurs. "What did you get grandma?"

"A tea set. She sent me links on Amazon, so might as well. She didn't like her gift last year." Mom got her a knitted sweater. Grandma took one look at it and gave the most disgusting fake smile I've ever seen.

BenefitsWhere stories live. Discover now