Oops, I've Fallen
He huffs and turns back to the windshield, slamming a hand against the door. “You drive slower than I do, son. By the time you park, I’ll be dead from lack of medication.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t drive that slow. I go the speed limit.”
“The speed limit is just a suggestion!” he says through a snorting laugh. “I saw a lady with blue hair pass us back there.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder in the random vicinity of his delusions.
“There was no lady. There was no blue hair.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Stop flapping your lips and get this hunk of metal shut down so we can get inside.”
I shake my head as I readjust and back up to straighten my position between the white lines on the pavement. This isn’t my car, but I still don’t want to come out to find dings on the doors because I parked too close to one side or another.
My dad grumbles audibly in his seat, and I shift into park and turn the engine off as a means to bring his one-man freak-out to an end. Noticing that this vehicle has the option to fold in the mirrors automatically, I carefully read the instructions below the buttons and flick them downward to start the process. Truthfully, I might be doing this just to irritate him, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“For the love of God, Ryan.”
I fight my urge to laugh, grab my phone from the cupholder, and climb out of the SUV.
The parking lot is relatively empty, but there’s a bus up by the entrance, unloading little old ladies in droves.
Obviously, this Winn-Dixie is a happening place for the seniors.
Rounding the back of the Discovery quickly, I trot up to my dad’s door and open it for him, but he’s sporting a scowl that says I didn’t move quickly enough.
I hold out a hand, and he takes it. His face, however, makes it abundantly clear he’d rather be getting a double root canal than relying on someone to help him do simple shit like making midday runs to the pharmacy.
I suck my lips into my mouth and gently turn him out of the way so I can close the door behind both of us.
It’s an extremely rare occasion when I don’t want to snap at my dad with sarcasm, but I have to admit, seeing him like this—and knowing how I would feel if I weren’t in control of my own simple tasks—makes me want to go a little easier on him.
I tuck his elbow over my arm and point us in the direction of the front door.
Sal shuffles a lot more than normal, but his speed isn’t too shabby. He’s obviously concerned about getting his medication filled.
“If the pharmacy is closed or something, I’ll call the doctor, Dad. Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you go without your blood pressure medication.”
His eyebrows do a weird, pinched roll sort of thing as he looks up at me. “Wha-uh. Oh. Yeah. I know.” He nods. “Let’s just get in there and get it.”
The glass sliding doors open upon our arrival, a cool breeze from the air conditioning blowing out and across my skin in time with it. Even in September, the humidity of Florida is no fucking joke, and I welcome the assault on my almost sweat-dampened dress shirt.
There is a collection of carts on one side of the double doors, and on the other, a small convoy of electric scooters. The sheer number of them outdoes any store I’ve ever seen in New York, but frankly, after the busload of seniors I just saw coming inside, I’m surprised there are any left.
“Do you want to use a scooter?” I ask my dad, unsure of whether he’ll think that’s better or worse than having to be escorted by me.
He considers it for a second, his thoughts quite possibly similar to my own, and then finally nods. “Yeah, what the hell. Might as well take one of those fuckers for a spin.”
I’m a little surprised by his acquiescence but not put off in the least. It’ll really make getting to the pharmacy a lot easier for both of us if we don’t have to hobble along at a snail’s pace, bickering the whole damn time. I help him over to one, and he gets settled in the seat. The controls don’t look too complicated, so I flick on the switch to power it up and lean in to see if there’s anything else important he needs to know.
Sal doesn’t wait, though, taking off like a shot, right through the second set of glass automatic doors into the store and running over my foot in the process.
“Ow!” I yelp, throwing my head back and dancing in place to try to make the sting go away.