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Charlie
“Morning Bull,” I said, as I entered the kitchen.
“Morning Charlie. Do you want some coffee? I made a fresh pot.”
“No,” I said, twisting the muscles of my face and biting my bottom lip.
“Are you okay? You don’t look so good,” Bull said.
“Cramps,” I said, holding my stomach.
“Oh. Sorry to hear that. But that’s easy enough to get straight. I done had heaps of cramps. Happens a lot when lifting,” he explained. “A couple'a aspirin and a heat pad and you’ll be right as rain,” he said, hopping off his stool and rummaging through Dante’s pantry.
“I don’t have those kind of cramps, Bull. It’s girl problems,” I said.
At his confused expression, I was more direct. “My period. I got my period and not only do I have cramps, I also don’t have any feminine products.”
“Oh,” Bull said, his eyes twin saucers of surprise.
“I need to go to the store, or ...”
“I can’t let you do that Charlie.”
“I don’t mean alone,” I amended quickly. “With you, of course.”
“But Dante don’t want you going outside,” he said.
“I didn’t mean go out by myself. I meant we need to go to the store together. There’s a pharmacy on the corner. It’s either we go together, or you go by yourself. And it’s gotta be soon, or there’s gonna be blood all over,” I said. “And I’m not kidding. I just need to get some tampons.”
I deserved an Academy Award for swallowing my laughter at his expression on hearing that word tampons. Why did feminine products weird men out so?
“Ok. Ok. We’ll go,” he said. “I’ll take you to get what you need.”