Page 7 of Merry with Me

“It is.” She nods as she swallows hard.

“Come on. I’ll take you to get it, and you can tell me about these wiener pants on the way.” I offer her a grin, trying to calm her fears.

“You don’t have to do that. I can call my roommate. She gets off work in an hour.”

“You can’t stand out here for an hour to wait on her. I’m offering. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

“Are you sure?” There she goes again, worrying that bottom lip.

“I’m positive. Come on.” I wave my hand toward my SUV. Maybe this will help with the whole gala thing. Perhaps she’ll take it easy on me for helping her out? Regardless, I’d be helping her, but I’d take that win for sure, for my act of kindness.

“Thank you, Dr. Thompson.”

“Oliver.” I offer her another smile.

“Thank you, Oliver.”

“You’re welcome.” I lead her to my SUV, and she beams. “You drive a Toyota 4Runner?”

“You drive a Ford Fusion. What’s wrong with my SUV?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I guess I just expected you to drive some kind of luxury car, like a Lexus or Audi, or something.”

“They would all get me from point A to point B safely. Why spend all that extra money just for a name or status?” She looks shocked at my words but doesn’t comment. I realize that I enjoy the fact that I was able to surprise her with my choice of vehicle. I pull open the door for her.

She smiles softly and mumbles, “Thank you, Oliver,” before I close the door and rush to the other side.

Once behind the wheel, I crank up the heat, and we’re on our way. I don’t need directions. Willow River is a small town, and there is only one new apartment complex. “Now, tell me about these wiener pants.”

She sighs. “When I was little, I used to love going to work with my dad. He has eight brothers, and for the longest time, I was the only grandchild, and well, I wanted to be like my dad and my uncles. Anyway, Dad would take me to work with him, and he always dressed me in these bib overalls. The crotch always bunched up every time I sat down. The story goes that I told my dad I didn’t want to wear wiener pants.”

I’m laughing, and when I glance over, I see she’s smiling.

“Have you ever worn bib overalls, Oliver? They’re not flattering for a woman.”

“How old were you?”

She shrugs. “Four or so, I think. I don’t know. I just know wiener pants are now a staple conversation piece among my family. I’m cool like that, I guess,” she teases.

“Definitely a good conversation piece,” I admit.

“I’m sure it was way funnier back then, hearing it from a four-year-old. It’s lost its luster over the years, but my uncles and my cousins never let me live it down.”

“I’m sure they’re teasing you out of love,” I say. Something has come over me. I don’t talk like this. Not anymore. I’ve been shit on by those who were supposed to love me, and my days of offering words of encouragement outside of my patients and my parents are long gone.

“This is me.” She points to the apartment complex.

“Where’s the tire?”

“It’s around the side of the building. We have a small shed for each unit, and my tire is in ours.”

I leave the car running and follow her to the shed. She opens the door and goes to lift the tire, but I gently maneuver her out of the way with my hand on her arm. “I’ll get it.” I lift the tire and turn back to my SUV. I’ve got it loaded and am sitting back behind the wheel before she returns to the SUV and slides into the passenger seat.

We’re both quiet on the way back to the hospital. When I pull into the spot behind her car, she removes her seat belt and turns to face me. “Thank you for taking me to get the tire. How much do I owe you?” She reaches into her purse for what I assume is her wallet.

I place my hand over hers, and she stills. Even in the dim lighting of the car, I can see the question in her eyes. “I was happy to help you, Blakely. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Thank you, Oliver.” She hesitates, then pushes open her door. I do the same and open the back of my SUV and grab the tire. “I can get that.”

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