Loose by Coo Sweet

room, Celia lounged on the couch. Her slipper-covered feet were propped up on the coffee table. The worry lines that were usually parked between her brows were smooth for a change--even her jaw hung loose and her mouth relaxed. 
     
    The television blared, but she only caught snatches of the program, because she thumbed through a magazine that rested on her lap. She was just about to chuck the remote and her reading material in exchange for a quick nap when Raven walked in. 
     
    "Dinner's ready, Granny." Celia looked up, nodded acknowledgment. 
     
    "Smells good, baby," said Celia. 
     
    Raven turned back toward the kitchen. She’d only taken a few steps when Celia stopped her. 
     
    "Hey, don’t you have something to show me?" 
     
    Raven casually snapped her fingers. 
     
    "Oh, yeah. Be right back." She left the room. 
     
    In the bedroom, Raven dug around in her backpack. She retrieved the sandwich bag that contained the used sanitary napkin she’d borrowed. She took it into the bathroom, set it down, and unrolled some toilet paper. 
     
    Raven inhaled a big gulp of air and took the pad out of the bag with toilet-paper wrapped fingers. She wound the paper around the pad and held the pad at arm's length, like it was a bomb ready to detonate at any second, but she somehow managed to walk out of the room with it. 
     
    Raven handed the pad to Celia without a hitch. As natural as breathing. Celia unwound the toilet paper and used a corner of it to open the pad. She took a quick look at its surface. Satisfied with the condition, she rewrapped it and passed it back to Raven. 
     
    "You mark the calendar?" asked Celia. 
     
    "Yes, ma'am." Raven left the room on stiff, wooden legs. 
     
    Celia, a conflicted look on her face, crossed her arms over her chest and watched her granddaughter retreat. She got up and went to the bathroom in the hall to wash her hands. While she dried them, she took a look at herself in the mirror. The dim lighting cast a shadow over her features. Some things just have to be done, she thought. 
     
    They ate dinner in the kitchen with little conversation between them. The heavy silence in the room made the sound of the silverware clinking on their plates seem unusually amplified. Raven found herself flinching inside each time metal connected with dinnerware. Her food sat mostly untouched. 
     
    Celia noticed, raised an eyebrow. "You not hungry?" she asked. 
     
    "No, I feel kind of sick. Probably from my period," said Raven. 
     
    "Well, don't waste good food. Wrap that up for later." 
     
    "Yes, ma’am."
     
    Celia nodded and resumed eating. Raven pushed the food around on her plate. She stole a few glances at her grandmother, trying to gauge her mood. 
     
    When Celia looked up and smiled, Raven jumped at the opportunity to ask the question that had been bouncing around in her head all evening. She took a big breath and plowed ahead. 
     
    “Granny, you think I could go to the basketball game Friday night? Tia’s dance group is performing at halftime. I want to go support her.” 
     
    Celia took her time answering. She looked at Raven with a burning intensity in her eyes. She wiped her mouth with her napkin, took a drink of water. Not once did she break eye contact with Raven. 
     
    “I’m picking up an extra shift that night. Won’t be home until late,” Celia said. 
     
    “Oh, I thought you were off,” Raven muttered, trying not to sound too pleased. “That’s okay. Maybe I can go some other time.” 
     
    Celia took a long, mournful look at her granddaughter. Her face softened a little. 
     
    “How did you plan on getting there?” she asked. 
     
    Raven perked up, but not too much. 
     
    “Tia’s sister is dropping us…I mean her…off. I could catch a ride with them.” 
     
    Celia cracked a tentative smile—as if she worried it might become a habit detrimental to her perpetually rigid demeanor. 
     
    “Alright. You can go, but I want you home as