Eat For Two

Down here at the Pawn Shop

Dedicated to 2brokegirls

A/N: Thank you for the votes and comments, and please if you have any constructive criticism let me know :D Unrelated to this, check out aintnowifey's new story Infinite. BACK TO THE TOPIC (with finger and arm pointed in the air) Here's the new chapter dearies! Short note I know. OH! Just a heads up, I am going to be (trying to) updating every other monday starting next monday.

P.S. whoever knows what the title is from will get a dedication next time :D

Chapter 5: Down Here At The Pawn Shop

I stare at the thin, chicken-scratch writing in my hands. The number and address are clearly marked, so that is not preventing me from calling. Neither is the fact my parents obviously disapproved of her. So what is?

“Clearly you’re afraid of another rejection”

What if I call her and it is useless, she calls me slut and hangs up? What if she moved and has a new number? What if—

“Just call her.”

But, but, bu—

“Phone. Dial. Call. NOW.”

Sighing, I stand up, stretch out my limbs and crack my joints, and walk over to my side table and grab my phone. Shit, I didn’t even think about my phone. My parents obviously are not going to continue to pay my phone bill. Well, to the pawn shop that goes too. Resolving that teensy debacle, I carefully type in the numbers, take a deep breath, and with eyes closed press send.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Okay, just one more ring and I’ll hang up

Rin—

"Hello?" A melodic voice comes from my speaker as my thmb hovers over the end button.

"Aunt Izzy?" I tentatively asked, still holding my breath and gnawing my lip. "I did get the right number, right?" I continued.

"Oh my good golly gosh! Remy?!?!? Is that you dearie?" My phone crackled as her shouts burst an eardrum.Good golly gosh?

"Yeah, yes it is Aunt Izzy."

"Psh. Enough of this Aunt Izzy nonsense. I'll have you know I'm only thirty!" She grumbled first, but then added in her bubbly, boisterous tone, "Anyway how are you? Oh you mus be so big now! I haven't seen you in forever. Yeah! Yeah! The last time I saw you I gave you that let--oh no." She ends sadly.Is this lady bi-polar?

"Izzy?"

"Oh, baby what happened? Are you okay? You can tell me anything and I swear I won't judge you. I've been judged enough." Izzy is so quiet and gentle, I think there are two people at the phone.Deep breath Remy, you can do this. And I do. I talk, telling this almost stranger my story. And I can, I think because she is the first to ask how I am. By the end, after multiple breakdowns and sobfests on both lines, I feel lighter. I feel as if a great weight has been removed from shoulders, as if someone is sharing the burden. Izzy, as talkative and scatterbrained as she seems, is an amazing listener. It seems as if she feels my pain and lonlieness, offering words of comfort and crying with me. She makes me feel less alone.I hope she stays.

"Okay this is how it's gonna be." Izzy speaks matter-of-factly as soon as we both have calmed down, "You are going to scoot your little booty up here and live with me."