Short Story: Pawpaw's and Ice Cream (2011)

It had been a long day. 

I was tired.

I was stressed out.

It felt as if I might lash out or burst into tears at any moment.

I sat through dinner without a single word to anyone.

It was an odd occurrence for me.

I'm loud, and very talkative.

Most of the time I ramble on about nothing and no one pays me any mind.

PawPaw listens to everything I say. 

He always laughs at my jokes and he makes me feel like a little kid again.

The same little kid who would sit on his knee and beg  "pretty please can we have some ice cream?" or  "Will you take me to a garage sale so I can buy more neat stuff?"

He was and is PawPaw.

The man who has spoiled me rotten because he couldn't resist my playful grins and pouty puppy dog eyes.

When no one else is listening, PawPaw IS.

No one noticed I wasn't saying a word, but I pretended I didn't care. 

I pretended my feelings weren't hurt and that I wasn't tired of being trampled on wherever I went because I was too nice to fight back.

My brothers and father went to a baseball game. 

I stayed where I was, pretending I didn't want to go.

A few moments after everyone left the room, PawPaw spoke up.

"What are you upset about?"

I gave him a surprised look, stunned for a moment before looking down at my plate and responding "I'm just mad."

By now I felt like I might cry but still he pursued the issue, albeit gently, "At who?"

I shoved some green beans around on my plate focusing on the movements of my fork to keep myself from crying. 

"People," I responded, "Everyone, the world..."

He didn't say anything, looking back down at his plate and shoveling a fork full of canned corn into his mouth. 

I sighed, figuring I may as well tell him why, "Everybody uses me like I'm a door mat..." I frowned. 

After a moment I gave him a half hearted attempt at a grin "I mean... I fairly sure I have the words Door Mat printed on my rear-end." 

He chuckled at me and my grin widened and for a moment I forgot that I was upset. 

I stood up and turned about leaning my head over my shoulder for a look, like a puppy chasing it's tail, "Honestly! Do I? "

This time he laughed heartily, and I laughed too, feeling a bit better. 

After he'd stopped laughing he leaned back in his chair, "You hate everyone huh?"

I shrugged, sitting back down, "Not everyone... I don't guess... just a lotta folks..."

He got that mischievous glint in his eye, the one that always meant that PawPaw knows something that I don't, and he said, "What if they have ice cream?"

I raised an eyebrow curiously, "You have ice cream?"

He got up from his seat, put his plate into the sink and disappeared into the wash room, reappearing with a tub of vanilla ice cream. 

I set to work immediately, fetching a bowl and a spoon and two cans of root beer. 

PawPaw ate his root beer floats in a cup, and he'd already emptied his. 

He scooped out the ice cream, poured in some root beer and the two of us moved to the living room where he put on a movie.

I took a bite, grinning over my shoulder at him in his recliner, from my spot on the couch. "I reckon people with Ice cream are on my good list..."

We laughed, and I knew that everything would be alright, because when it feels like everyone's out to get me... PawPaw's got my back.