Stella: We just got here. And since Carly’s making me drive around in one of those damn scooters like that cranky broad Nan, I’m sure it’ll be a while.
Nan lives at Sunny Creek, right next door to ole Betty Matthews and about two streets away from Stell’s and my places. She is certainly cranky, and, second only to Betty, she’s one of Stell’s biggest enemies around here. Whenever those two get together, it rains bickering cats and dogs.
And if you put Stella, Betty, and Nan in one room together? Well, you best be getting the fuck out of there.
Though, that’s neither here nor there. Right now, my focus is on getting to Stell.
Which will happen today.
I send her a quick, one-word message to tell her as much.
Me: Perfect.
Stella: Perfect? What are you up to, Sal?
Me: Just wait and see, darlin’. ;)
I smirk and set my phone back on the cushion beside me so I can slowly ease myself off the couch. My balls ache and a groan escapes my lungs, but I hardly notice any of it because I’ve got my Stella on my mind.
Ole Sal is coming to see you, baby…
Ryan
“I think that about covers it, Jeremy,” I say into the receiver and double-check a few addendum notes in the policy to make sure we’ve reviewed them before ending the call. Everything on my end has been addressed, so I feel comfortable continuing, “How about we touch base next month and see how things are faring on your end?”
“Sounds like a plan,” he responds.
Shortly after, I’m off the phone, and I tap my fingers against the keys of my laptop, adding several pertinent notes and questions that I’ll need for next month’s call with Franklin Motors.
But I only get halfway through the task when my dad comes shuffling toward the dining room—aka my temporary office—in a huff.
“Sheesh. It’s about time. I thought you’d never get off that damn call,” he booms and doesn’t stop his momentum until he’s standing just outside the room. “We gotta go, Ry.”
“What?” I question, taken aback by the request. “Go? Where?”
“Winn-Dixie.”
“Dad, I’m working,” I respond. “I have five more calls and several different projects to loop in with the team about. I don’t have time today, but I told you, I’ll get groceries tomorrow.”
“That’s not gonna work, kid,” he retorts. “I forgot I had to pick up my blood pressure medicine. Ran out of it yesterday.”
“What?” I hold both hands palm up in frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs. “I must have forgotten.”
I lean my head back on a sigh, my mind racing with all the important tasks I still need to get through before the day is over. “Can you give me about an hour?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“Nope. Gotta get there now. Pharmacy closes pretty soon.” He walks toward the front door and slips on his favorite leather loafers. It’s then that I realize he’s actually managed to change out of his lounge clothes and put on a nice pair of pants and a golf polo. “And either you’re taking me or I’m gonna have to call a Luber or something.”
“A what?”
“A Luber!” he shouts, hand already on the doorknob.
I don’t waste time telling him that he probably means Uber. When Sal’s mind is made up like this, it’s all useless. The only thing that can be done is to go along with his plans.
“Shit. Okay,” I respond and start the process of saving documents and sending an email to my staff to let them know I’ll be gone for a bit.
“C’mon, Ry!” Sal urges, opening the front door and walking out onto the porch. “There’s no time for that. You can do it when we get home!”
Christ. He’s in a rush.
I glance at my watch to see that it’s only half past noon. How early does this pharmacy expect these early birds to be? If this were New York, there’d be a riot if a pharmacy tried to close up before midnight. I almost toss a mouthful of sarcasm his way, but since it’s blood pressure medication that we’re after, I bite my tongue and get ready to head out the door and drive my dad to the goddamn Winn-Dixie for my lunch break.
I’ve barely pulled the Land Rover Discovery the rental agency was finally able to drop off yesterday to a stop in the parking lot of the Winn-Dixie before Sal is unbuckling his seat belt and making moves to pop open the door handle and hop out.
“Whoa, whoa, Dad. Take it easy.” I reach over and hold on to his arm that’s resting on the center console as if that’s somehow going to stop him. And well, I guess it is if he doesn’t want to rip his shoulder out of the socket. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Let me actually finish getting in the space, and I’ll help you.”