Shopping? What?

Myrtle was waiting outside by the time Fred pulled up and she noticed immediately that he looked quite pallid and rather gloomy. As soon as she was inside the car she laid one tiny hand against his cheek and gazed sympathetically into his mournful eyes. "What’s wrong, Fred?"

He looked away and sighed. Part of him wanted to keep all the sordid, embarrassing details from Myrtle, and part of him wanted to confide all. The latter part was winning. "I had kind of a bad day," he confessed.

"Pull the car over there and tell me about it," she instructed firmly, pointing to an open area at the side of the building.

Fred obediently parked the car and shut it off, then turned to look into Myrtle’s one good eye. "Yesterday my boss told me to send out a truck to exchange two shipments and I sent out two trucks instead… ‘cause I thought it would be quicker… and today they got into accident," he explained quietly.

"Both of them?"

Fred nodded. "With each other," he clarified.

Myrtle stared. "But… but… that’s incredible!":

Fred sniffed and nodded resignedly. "The boss was pretty upset with me for sending two trucks. I don’t understand why these things always happen to me," he groaned.

"But surely he can’t blame you for such a thing," she comforted. "Oh Fred, it wasn’t your fault," she insisted. Moving as close as she could without inadvertently leaving her bucket seat, she slid an arm across his shoulders and gently stroked his temple with the other hand.

Fred moved a bit closer to her. "That’s what I told him and he didn’t fire me. I thought for minute there I’d lost my job."

"Oh you poor thing," she sympathized, kissing his cheek.

"I fainted," he confessed, shamefaced.

"I shouldn’t wonder," said Myrtle. Then she gazed at him curiously. "When?"

"Right in Mr. Grieves’ office… when they told me what had happened… I couldn’t believe it and I… I passed out."

"It must have been quite a shock." she surmised.

He nodded, then with head bowed as much as possible with the collar, he toyed with a bit of fluff on his pant leg and glanced only furtively at Myrtle. "Luckily I was sitting down at the time… but I guess it wasn’t a very game reaction," he mumbled guiltily.

Myrtle couldn’t help smiling. "There now, Fred," she comforted. "It’s not as bad as that. It was terrible news… and you might have done worse."

"How?" he challenged.

"Well… if you were the hysterical type, you might have burst into a fit of giggling or something." She patted his arm. "Now Fred, if you’d done that, you would have been fired," she smiled. "Just as well you quietly fainted instead." Fred looked into her twinkling eye and couldn’t help smiling himself. Myrtle planted another kiss on his cheek. "Now, if you don’t feel like shopping, I quite understand. We could go to my place and I could whip up a quick dinner…"

He shook his head. "I don’t mind shopping, Myrtle. I feel better now… and I don’t want to put you to the extra trouble."

"It wouldn’t be any trouble, Fred," she admonished. "But, if you think you wouldn’t mind shopping, perhaps it would take your mind off your awful day for awhile."

"Yeah. Let’s go to Tim Horton’s," he replied. "I’d like some of their chili."

Myrtle gave him an encouraging little squeeze, then slid back into her seat properly as Fred started the car.

Myrtle had soup and a sandwich as Fred slurped down his hot chili. It was a dubious choice with the soft collar on, but he made it through the quick meal with only a few fresh stains. Then they began their search for Fred’s new bed at the Western Furniture, which happened to be next to the Pricemart.

The rest of the evening was pretty much a blur for Fred. He just wasn’t used to the rigours of shopping, the thrust and parry with salespeople, the rifling through bins of sale items and searching... searching the aisles for just the right shade of the right colour or the right size of throw cushions. As Myrtle happily shopped and variously asked him questions about what he liked, which he couldn’t really answer, and prattled on happily about the merchandise, Fred just tried to keep up to her so he wouldn’t get lost in a store.

When they finally left the last store, a dazed Fred looked up and down the rows of cars in the parking lot, vacuously wondering where his might be. Unaware that Fred was having difficulty finding a car that looked familiar, Myrtle strolled along beside him chatting merrily. "I think we did very well tonight, Fred," she announced.

Fred stopped and looked at her. "Myrtle, I just spent well over a thousand dollars in there… all at one time," he said with obvious awe, and in a rather shaky voice.

"And money well-spent too, Fred," she assured him. "The car is over here, dear," she said helpfully, pointing.

He made his way to the car and unlocked it as Myrtle went on happily. "Now, except for two small lamps and two bedside rugs, you’ve got your entire bedroom furnished and you’ve got a 20-inch colour television besides," she recounted joyfully and after putting the parcels in the trunk, they both climbed into the car.

He only nodded and somehow got the key into the ignition. After starting the car he looked around, sort of wondering what to do next, then fumbled to put the car in gear. He’d just never experienced anything like this before. Refusing to pay $4.95 for the bed legs, Myrtle instead ordered him a bed frame with wheels that cost $29.99. Fred wasn’t sure why he needed wheels on his bed. For just a brief moment he visualized driving to work in his bed. He gave his head a shake. Apparently he needed the frame in order to attach the headboard to the bed and he had to have the headboard because it went with the bedside tables and chest of drawers she picked out for him. He was well enough pleased with the dark pseudo wood grain furniture and it was available at substantial savings because of being slightly damaged, but it had all seemed to happen so fast.

"Myrtle, why did you pick the chest of drawers with the scratches on top, instead of the one with the gouges on the side?" he asked.

"Because the gouges were on the side facing out in your new bedroom," she explained. "If they’d been on the side against the wall it would have been different. Anyway, we can cover up the scratches on top by setting something over them… like a jewelry box," she suggested.

"I don’t have a jewelry box," said Fred quietly.

"We could always get you one," she said.

"I don’t have any jewelry," he countered.

Myrtle chuckled. "Oh Fred, I’m sure those scratches will wind up covered with something. Dresser tops always wind up covered with things."

Fred sniffed. She was right of course. He could always put his brush and comb set on the chest of drawers and he was sure a great many miscellaneous items from model ships to loose change would eventually accumulate there. He sniffed again, pondering the delivery arrangements for the furnishings. It was all a lot for Fred to absorb at once. He was confused, but he just couldn’t let it go. "Are you sure you don’t mind waiting at the new apartment for the furniture," he asked, concerned. The sales people hadn’t been very flexible about the delivery date, and the one they’d been given coincided with Fred’s hospital visit, so Myrtle had volunteered to wait for the delivery instead.

"Not at all, Fred," she assured him. "I know you wanted to be there yourself, but I’ll make sure they put everything where it belongs, Fred. And I’ll even make the bed for you. Think of it, Fred… when you get out of the hospital, you’ll be coming home to your own apartment and a freshly furnished bedroom."

Fred smiled gratefully. It would be nice to be able to climb into his own, freshly made bed after his operation. "Thanks Myrtle. I appreciate your help."

Then he grinned again at the thought of being picked up and taken home by Myrtle, who would have his car anyway. And then tucked into his freshly made bed by her. It was a lot nicer than the prospect of having to go home to his mother’s and rely on her for his care while he convalesced. When he pulled up outside Myrtle’s house, he turned off the engine in anticipation of an invitation inside, and of course, Myrtle obliged.