Too Much Is Just Too Much

Friday was a much better day for Fred. He had only just settled down to dig into his work, for however long it was still his work, when he was informed by Helen that the accident of the previous day wasn’t as bad as they had all feared. Both drivers were already released from hospital and the damage to the trucks was considered "reparable" and "minor," respectively. A recovery crew had been dispatched straightaway to the scene for the contents of the trucks and, while the engine parts were on their way to be inspected for possible damage it was thought they would likely be fine, and the heavy ovens, remarkably, were found to have survived the crash unscathed. Due to a shortage of vehicles available on short notice, the ovens had been loaded into a truck already half full of mattresses. The chief of the recovery crew expertly pronounced some of the mattresses a righteous mess and just as expertly judged the ovens undamaged. They were then labouriously transferred to another truck and were now, presumably, in the possession of the irate restaurateur.

Helen was confident that if anything should turn out to be wrong with them, Soames would hear about it

The news had an almost magical, restorative affect on Mr. Grieves and by lunch time, Fred was assured there was nothing untoward in store for him, although he did suspect any future raises normally due him might be deferred to offset increases in the company’s insurance premiums. However, his position with the company was secure for the moment, so by the time he left to pick up Myrtle he was in a positively light-hearted mood.

Myrtle, meanwhile, was eagerly anticipating more sales at Pricemart. The linens sale that began that very day was next on their shopping agenda and they’d decided to go straight there after work, then head for Myrtle’s afterwards for a late supper. On the way to the store, Fred filled Myrtle in on the events of the day and she clucked over him and offered her heartfelt congratulations in return. Then, scarcely out of the car, she hurried into the store prepared to take on the expected crush of eager shoppers attending the sale. Fred caught up with her at the towel bin. It wasn’t quite the melee Myrtle had foreseen, but there was still a small group of jostling, no-nonsense women around the bins, each intent upon getting her hands on the best towels first. Fred stood back and watched in an odd combination of horror and amazement as Myrtle plunged confidently into the sea of human elbows.

He was a little surprised when she emerged intact only a few minutes later with four of the bound sets in colours he wasn’t sure about, but decided he could live with. Myrtle placed them in the cart and marched on, leaving Fred to assume custody of the cart and keep up with her.

Unfortunately he didn’t. The events of the past couple of days had actually taken a lot out of Fred and he just wasn’t used to this kind of shopping. Oh, he sort of kept up with Myrtle for a couple more of the sale bins, then stood aside as she dived into the fray. But then, dazed and confused, he sort of wandered off alone, eventually leaving the cart parked at the end of an aisle where something had caught his eye.

When Myrtle finally realized she’d lost her companion, she didn’t have the slightest clue where to look for him. Her arms loaded with sheets, pillow cases and dish towels, she hurried along a main aisle looking in both directions for any sign of Fred. Suddenly she bumped into an abandoned cart. Looking into it, she recognized the towels she’d already picked out. This was a clue, she thought. So she looked down the first aisle, which was in the toy section, and saw no one. She dumped what she had in her arms into the cart and moved on to the next aisle, but something made her hesitate. She backed up and looked down the first aisle again. While there were no people shopping in that aisle, there was a pair of legs in brown suit pants and two feet in brown shoes sticking out of the bottom shelf that didn’t seem to belong. Taking the cart with her, she went to investigate. There, quite asleep amongst a gaggle of stuffed animals, was Fred. He reminded her of the toy closet scene from E.T.

“Fred,” she said quietly.

“Smufffledup,” he said, jerking awake. “Huh? Wha...” He sat up and looked around. “Oh Myrtle... I was... I mean...” his voice trailed off.

Myrtle couldn’t help chuckling. “C’mon Fred,” she said, again quietly, hoping no one would come down the aisle at that moment. “I guess this was all a bit much for you. Let’s check out with what we have.”

Fred, looking as if he barely comprehended, only nodded, and struggled to his feet.

Once again Fred seemed unsure where the car was, but this time Myrtle was in the lead pushing the buggy with their bags. She put them in the trunk, then turned to Fred and suggested he give her the keys. Surprised, Fred nevertheless handed them over. It would be nice just to sit in the passenger seat for a change, he thought, and let Myrtle drive them home. Indeed, he snoozed part of the way, which had Myrtle congratulating herself on a good call.

Also at Myrtle’s suggestion, Fred settled onto one end of her couch and sighed contentedly. They had carried all the parcels in from the car and carefully stowed them in her bedroom. Myrtle had agreed to hang onto Fred’s purchases pending access to his new apartment, pointing out that it would be easier for her to get his apartment ready for him coming out of the hospital if she had everything at hand. Fred immediately and gratefully accepted her offer. He was certain his mother would have found an excuse to peep into every bundle he had taken home. He also suspected she might feel compelled to offer critical comment on his choices and was a little concerned that during the inevitable verbal onslaught, he might blurt out in his own defence that most of the choices were actually Myrtle’s, providing his mother an opportunity to prematurely criticize his girlfriend.

He thirstily gulped his milk while making up his mind to bring the parcels he’d taken home back to Myrtle’s. Draining his glass, he had just sat back to gaze out the window when Myrtle called him to the kitchen for toasted western sandwiches and oven fries.

They chatted as they ate, and afterwards they snuggled back on the couch. Fred was getting these funny, urgent feelings when he sat next to Myrtle. He wanted very much to get closer ~ close enough to smell her hair and nuzzle her ear. But he got a warning twinge in his side every time he strained to get closer. So he tried to content himself with putting his arm around her and snuggling with her, at least when Myrtle wasn’t getting up for coffee, or to put wood on the fire, or to get a catalogue out of the magazine rack. Fred was a little worried that Myrtle might be hurt by his seeming reluctance to be amorous, but she was plainly quite excited and content for the time being with the shopping, cooking and planning.

He left that night after some kisses he would very much have taken further if he could, but Myrtle only pushed him away playfully and told him he should go home and come back for breakfast in the morning. Then, as he headed out the door, she listened for that tell-tale bang or thump that meant he needed her. But there was none. Apparently Fred made it to his car safely.