She sits in her car, a dark green Ford Pinto hatchback, waiting for Britt and Mark to get back from the concession stand. She sent them with $2 each to buy drinks and candy, and to play a game of pinball or two with the change. But not popcorn. There's no need for that, as she's popped enough to feed a small army, half filling a trash bag to make sure there's enough for the three of them as they watch movies until the wee hours of the morning.
The boys are 9 and 7, and she's doing what she always does every other weekend: spending quality time with her nephews. This particular weekend, it's a Friday night at the drive-in to see Star Wars and Future World. She has already taken them to see Star Wars twice at the Xenia Cinema, but the outdoor experience of seeing movies at the drive in is so much cooler. Especially for the boys. They can swing on the swing set and climb on monkey bars until the first cartoon is shown at the darkest part of dusk. The old, rusty speaker hangs in the window on one side of the car, coupled with a heater in case it gets too chilly as the night goes on, and the boys love to be the one setting the speaker on the partially rolled down window.
The sounds of their return are obvious, but she glances in the rearview mirror to verify before extinguishing her cigarette. She's not going to smoke in the car with them in it, which is one of the reasons she sends them to get the refreshments themselves. That, and she knows how it makes Britt feel important to have the responsibility to watch over his little brother and handle the money.
She smiles as she blows that last drag of heady smoke out her window as Mark opens the passenger door and squeals with delight that he beat his older brother back to the car. He deposits his Mike and Ike's on the seat with a grin that takes in his whole head before rushing off without a word to get to the swings. Britt is more solemn as he gets to the car, carrying all three of their pops in one of those nifty gray cardboard cup holders.
"You didn't beat me!" he yells after his little brother, "I was carrying more than you!"
She laughs at him. "Aw," she says, drawing out the syllable as she takes the cups from him. "Thanks for carrying everything."
His nose crinkles as he looks at her, his mind working over the smell in the air. "You were smoking, weren't you?"
It's not a question, but a statement of fact, and she knows that this boy she's spent so much of her 18 years with is way too smart for his age. She smiles at him, continuing to laugh as he stands there, looking for all the world like a little tiny version of his father (her eldest brother). "Go play with Mark, Britt," she says in the midst of her laughter.
"Not until you promise not to smoke while I'm gone!" His voice is demanding, and brooks no argument.
She laughs all the harder. "I promise," she says. "Now go play before the movie starts."
As she watches him run off, she thinks about how much she loves hanging out with him. He's always attentive and giving, which reminds her of…herself. She can't deny that it's a good feeling. He barely makes it to the swings before the first Woody Woodpecker cartoon begins to play. She smiles as he gamely comes running back, far outdistancing his younger brother in his now unencumbered state.
As the boys climb into the car, Mark to the back and Britt beside her in the passenger seat, she hopes to one day have a son of her own who will bring her as much joy as her two nephews.
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