Gary Allen Short glanced up at his wife, Tambria, and fell in love with her all over again. But that romantic feeling of bliss and security lasted no longer than the sentence you are reading now as he switched his mind back to his present concerns.
"Should I be looking at a mid-sized Nissan or a Dodge, hon?" he called out, his eyes glued to the newspaper ads spread out before him.
There was no answer. Not that it mattered anyway - he?d already decided on the Dakota. Staring at the ad, he tried to picture himself in that truck to get some idea of where he would fall on the "cool" scale. Though the Nissan was pretty cool, he felt that it might be a little over the top on the "toy" scale. It looked like a full scale version of one of the Tonka trucks he had when he was five. And that was thirty-five years ago. It wasn?t a toy he needed today, it was a truck - a man?s truck, a cool truck. Anything but that "girlie car" he was forced to drive around now.
"You okay, hon?" he asked, turning to look into the living room where Tambria sat stretched back in a recliner.
"Could you come here for a sec?" she asked, turning to look him in the eye. "We need to talk."
"On my way," Gary answered. He stole a quick second or two to look back down at the Dakota.
That?s a definite eight point five on the cool scale, he thought, getting up out of his chair. And with me behind the wheel, that goes up at least as high as nine point four two five.
In the living room, he knelt at his wife?s side and reached over to brush the bangs from her eyes. His hand came away wet and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to dab the sweat from her brow.
"How you doing, honey?" he asked.
"I think it?s time," she answered, smiling thinly.
"My appointment is at one," Gary answered, looking up at the clock. "We still have two hours. I called to confirm this morning."
"No, not that," she said. "Time for the baby."
"The baby? Really?"
"Really."
"My goodness. Already?"
"It?s time," she smiled, reaching out to grab his hand. "I?m going to make you a proud papa, Mr. Short."
"I?ll be the proudest papa in the world," Gary affirmed, squeezing her hand. He did a rapid mental calculation to figure out how a baby seat in the back seat of the Dakota would affect his position on the cool scale, but the results were inconclusive. On one hand, toting around a baby was cool to some segments of the population, but a turnoff to others. At best, he might stay in the nine point three to nine point four range. At worst, he could drop one or two points.
Hope it?s not an ugly baby, he thought.
"But you?re not due to deliver for another eleven or twelve days, Tambria."
"Six days," she corrected. "I?m six days early. It happens."
Gary fell silent, letting go of his wife?s hand. He counted the days on his fingers and realized she was right. But still, six days was a lot of time. Would this qualify as a premature baby? He?d heard all kinds of things about premature babies: lengthy hospital stays, specialized treatments, compromised immune systems, and the like. That would all have to come into play on the cool scale.
"False labor?" he asked hopefully, glancing up at the clock again. Every passing minute ushered him closer to his appointment at the auto dealership. This was getting close...too close.
"I don?t think so, Gary," she answered, bringing up a hand to rub her lower tummy. "I think this is the real deal."
"But how can you know that for sure?" Gary countered. "You?ve never had a baby before. You know, I hear about false labor all the time. As a matter of fact, Tim Bosley told me that his wife went into false labor twice. They went all the way to the hospital and had to go through all this rigmarole, only to be sent back home empty handed. And Marie talks about her babies all the time. I think she had false labor on the last one and - "
"Gary," Tambria interrupted, her voice taking on a sharper tone. "This is not false labor. This is it - the real thing."
Silence fell between them and Gary took advantage of the lapse to consider calling the dealership and rescheduling the appointment. But no, that would not work. It was Friday, and he didn?t know if the dealership was open on weekends. That would delay things until Monday and this was the first weekend in eight weeks that promised bright sun and warm temperatures. If he waited until early next week, there was no guarantee of good weather on subsequent weekends.
This truck deal has to happen, and it has to happen today...
His wife moaned and clutched her lower abdomen while Gary
Got to happen. Got to happen...
struggled with his
...today
dilemma.
"Okay, then, goddammit," he barked, smacking his palm down on the recliner?s footrest. "Let?s get you into the car and we?ll get this over with. But I gotta tell you, Tambria: if this turns out to be false labor and I miss my appointment, I?m going to be very unhappy.
"Very unhappy."
Grabbing a small blanket from the couch, he stormed toward the door after stopping at the kitchen table to tuck the newspaper ads up under his arm.
"Gary, that?s not - "
"Don?t!" he snapped, his hand resting on the door knob. "You wanted to go to the hospital so I?m taking you to the hospital. I?m sorry I snapped at you but I?m under a lot of stress with this truck deal, hon. You don?t even know."
She made her way to the door, avoiding eye contact with her husband.
"I do know," she said finally, stopping close to him. "Believe me, I know. I want you to get that truck, too. But I think the baby is our first priority right now."
Gary kissed her lightly on the forehead and reached down to rub her tummy.
"I?m going to make sure we have a comfortable, safe, secure ride for the little guy," he said confidently, determined to keep the truck at the forefront of their conversation while addressing the birth of his firstborn son as well. "You know, that truck would be a lot safer in an accident than if we were all crammed into the Daihatsu. Steel reinforced doors, front and side airbags - you know, the works."
"Can we go now?" Tambria asked impatiently.
"And that?s not to mention front crumple zones and anti-lock brakes."
"Please?"
"Okay," Gary sighed, leading her out into the attached garage where the Daihatsu sat amidst the clutter like an old beer can in a grassy field. It had lost of lot of its former luster in the past forty-eight hours.
Later, Tambria asked where they were going, pointing out that they had passed the Navy Yard Highway exit that would get them to the hospital in the shortest amount of time.
"Oh!" Gary said, feigning surprise. "I?m sorry, honey. I was thinking about the baby and about our lives together and I totally blew the exit. I?ll get off on Auto Center Way. It?s right up ahead."
"It?s also the road to the dealership," Tambria sighed, shaking her head.
Gary said nothing but activated the right signal though they were still a half mile from the exit.
"How are you doing?" he asked, reaching over to pat her on the leg.
"Better," she answered, smiling. "The contractions seem to have died down a bit. I?m starting to think you may have been right. Perhaps I misread the signals. It?s been a stressful day. I am more than ready to have this baby."
"Me too!" Gary chipped, taking the exit. He missed having sex with his wife and longed for a return to their normal non-pregnant life together. They would have sex in the bed of the truck first. Before doing it in the bedroom. That just might add some zest to their relationship and provide yet another positive aspect to the truck purchase.
"Honey, we haven?t talked about a name yet," Tambria said, looking at him with anticipation, certain that he would have some good ideas. He was quite creative.
"Oh," Gary answered back quickly, signaling a lane change, "that?s easy. The name will be ?Fargo.?"
"Fargo?" she asked, propping herself up on the armrest. "What the hell kind of a name is Fargo?"
"You know, Fargo! After the movie."
"The movie?"
"Tambria, you remember. The one with the tan Cierra and the two guys who won?t talk to each other in the car and the chipper shredder scene at the end. I figure that if we?re buying a Dakota and Fargo is in North Dakota, it would fit. There?s also that scene about the guy at the auto dealership. In fact, half the movie is set in an auto dealership. So it all fits!"
Tambria stared back, her expression blank.
"Auto dealership. Fargo. Dakota. Get it? I?m going to name the truck ?Fargo!?"
This time, the silence that hung in the air between the two was absolute. Gary could sense that he may have said something wrong, but figured she probably was just mad about him missing the exit. Or maybe she didn?t like the movie "Fargo" as much as she had led him to believe. After mentally replaying the conversation he decided that that had to be it. But that was just too goddamned bad - it was his truck, not hers. And he would call it whatever he wanted to call it. He couldn?t understand how women could get so worked up over something so simple.
He whistled the theme from "Fargo" as he drove. When the dealership came into view up on the left, he made a split-second decision.
"Honey, I?m going to make a real quick stop here at the dealership. Is that okay?"
"You do what you feel you need to do, Gary."
"I will," he said, patting her on the leg again with all the affection one would display when patting down trapped air beneath a bed sheet. "I really wasn?t going to, but you said the contractions were more manageable. I don?t think it will hurt to make a quick stop."
She didn?t respond, but he really hadn?t expected her to.
"Just let me know if things pick up again," he said, turning onto the lot and parking near the service bay entrance. "Yell out, get my attention, and I?ll drop whatever I?m doing. You and this baby are the most important -
"Look!" he yelped, pointing over across the lot to a silver Dakota parked near the street. "That?s it! That?s the truck we need to buy.
"Are you going to come look at it with me?"
Tambria shook her head, refusing to give the truck so much as a glance. She would just sit in the car, so long as he promised to take no more than five minutes and that he would come running if she honked the horn.
"Be right back, sweetie," he said after agreeing to her terms. Planting a quick kiss on her cheek, he said: "I love you, Tambria. This is a very exciting day for me. You can?t know how much I love you. Words can?t explain."
"I know," she assured, though she knew full well the reason for his excitement and proclamations of love. "Get going. We?ve got to have a baby today."
Spotting an eagle-eyed salesman standing outside the northern entrance to the dealership, Gary made a beeline in the opposite direction and walked with determination over to the silver Dodge Dakota parked on the far end of the used car section of the lot. When he got within twenty feet of the truck, he saw a shadow come up from behind and felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Beautiful, ain?t she?"
"Yes," Gary agreed, stopping to turn and look at the man behind him. Sure enough, it was the salesman and he knew the guy had to have broken into a full run to catch up to him so quickly. That was disconcerting; he hadn?t had time to build up the confidence and resolve to be as assertive as he?d promised Tambria that he would be. Off the lot, it was too easy to talk about detecting and deflecting cheesy sales techniques but now that he was within spitting distance of his dream truck, resolve went out the window.
"I?m John," the salesman greeted, extending a hand. He was tall and ridiculously thin, topped with a huge swept-back mane of prematurely graying hair that gave him the appearance of being top-heavy. There was some comfort in the fact that he didn?t look like a car salesman, but some concern that he looked more like an Amway nut.
"Gary," he said, shaking the hand and turning back to admire the truck.
"I?ll bet you think I would do anything to get you into that truck," John grinned, walking up to stand in Gary?s field of view. "But you?d be wrong."
Like hell, Gary thought. You?d probably sell out your own mother to get me into this Dakota.
As that thought left his mind, he realized that this was the time to display his assertiveness.
"Listen, John," he said. "My wife is in the car and she?s in labor. I?m thinking about buying this truck but I?m on my way to the hospital. I just wanted to take a quick peek at it since we were passing by anyway."
"Where do you live?" John asked. "What part of the county?"
"South Kitsap," Gary answered quickly, wondering what significance it had.
"I see," John said, stroking his chin absently. "There are faster routes to the hospital, are there not?"
"I - I took a wrong turn," Gary stammered, knowing he?d been had. It didn?t bode well that his transparency had been revealed in the first two minutes of their conversation.
"What I think," John ventured, "is that you just had to see this baby again. I think you went out of your way to drive by. I?ll bet you sucked up to the wife to be able to stop by here. You probably told her you?d only be out of the car for five or ten minutes and then you?d be back.
"Am I right, Gary?"
He said nothing, but nodded quickly.
"You probably told her to honk the horn or to yell out the window if things got bad," John continued, riding the wave of intuition as long as it would support any weight. "Am I right again?"
There was no reason to answer or even acknowledge the question; Gary knew that John had already pegged him for what he was - a man who really really wanted a Dodge Dakota.
"Don?t worry," John chuckled, "that?s okay. It means you are driven to arrive at a workable deal. And I don?t know how long you think it takes to buy a vehicle, but it?s probably not as long as you imagine.
"This is your lucky day, Gary. I?m sure we can get you behind the wheel of a new truck and get you on your way to the hospital in thirty minutes or less. Or maybe forty minutes, tops."
He looked over in the general direction of the Daihatsu and waved before turning back to Gary. Lowering his voice to feign concern, he asked: "Will she be okay that long, Gary? I mean, if her water has broken or she is in agony, you should probably get out of here right now. I can try to hold this truck here for you. But if her pains are still minor and she?s still holding her water, you probably have several hours of leeway. I?ve had three kids, Gary. I know what I?m talking about. This your first kid?"
"Yes," Gary answered distractedly, looking over at the car.
"Well, then," John said, clapping him on the shoulder again. "That explains your nervousness. Trust me, you?ve got time. If her water breaks or things go south in a big hurry, we?ll get her taken care of in short order.
"But back to what we were talking about earlier, Gary. No, I wouldn?t do anything to get you into this truck. This is an ?02. I would like to see you get into an ?04 - a new one.
"You ever had a brand new vehicle, Gary?"
He hadn?t.
"Yeah," he lied, dismissing it. There was no way he could afford a new truck, and he knew it. "But I really have my heart set on this one, John."
"We?ll talk about that later," John promised. "But nowadays, there are huge rebate savings on the new trucks and very generous interest rates, as well. If I could make the money work for you, would you consider an ?04?"
Gary thought for a moment, balancing his answer against his meager earnings and that all-so-important coolness scale. A new truck would blow the lid right off that scale, tipping it so precariously that he would slide right into the tight circle of manhood, and create a huge splash as well. But on the flip side, he would have to have a way to pay for it all.
"If you can make the money work, John. But the money end has to work."
"I thought you?d say that, Gary. You are a smart man. Besides, you know as well as I do that you can?t put any price tag on being hip. And I think you?d be interested to know that I have an ?04 on the lot in this same color but with one added feature: it?s supercharged!
"So you can buy a little truck for a lot of money...or you can buy a lot of truck for the same. Pound for pound, I don?t think you have to be a rocket scientist to make that equation work for you. We both know that these babies don?t come cheap.
"But," he concluded, waving his index finger in the air, "you have to promise me that you?re not a rocket scientist, Gary, because I?ve never sold a car or a truck to a rocket scientist."
Gary chuckled and looked over at the Daihatsu again, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He knew his five minutes were up. But what John had said earlier did make a lot of sense; her water hadn?t broken and the contractions - if that?s what they really were - seemed sporadic and only mildly discomforting.
"Are you?" John asked, flashing his white, even teeth through a polished, congenial smile.
"Am I what?"
"A rocket scientist?"
"Oh, heavens no," Gary answered, switching his attention back from the Daihatsu."
"Good! Then we can do business. What do you have to trade? The little orange car over there?"
"Yeah, my Daihatsu," Gary answered, cocking a thumb back over his shoulder. "The one my wife is sitting in. It?s got less than 87,000 miles on it and still runs like a dream. Haven?t had a problem with it in mon - in a long time."
"That?s a nice little car," John answered quickly without even bothering to look at the vehicle. "Good, economical little car. Bet you get good gas mileage with it."
"Sure do. But that aside, I haven?t been really happy with it, if you know what I mean."
"I?m afraid I don?t know what you mean. Why don?t you tell me about it?"
"Well," Gary started, his voice dropping confidentially, "my friends call it a ?girlie car.?"
"Ah," the salesman breathed, drawing out the word to a full second. "You mean your friends who drive Mustangs. And SUV?s. And pickup trucks."
"Yes," Gary answered sheepishly, realizing that John had pegged him again. Could he hide anything from this man? "Yes. Those friends."
John reached out to put an arm around him and squeeze his shoulder.
"We?ll get you into that crowd," he promised, turning Gary around toward the dealership. "When you leave here, you?ll be at the top of that hierarchy in a big hurry. You?ll have a man?s truck."
Five feet from the glass doors leading into the showroom, John stopped and turned to face Gary, winking once.
"You ready?"
"More than ready," Gary said eagerly. "But bear in mind, my wife is in the car and she?s in active labor. I don?t have a lot of time."
"She thinks she?s in labor," John dismissed, opening the showroom door. "Women always think they?re in labor, even when they?re not pregnant."
He laughed deeply, smacked Gary on the back and pushed him toward a table.
It was all Gary could do to keep from crying out; that back slap had been hard, and still stung. But he managed to laugh along with Gary, knowing that
This truck deal has to happen, and it has to happen today...
they were building a camaraderie that would move things along smoothly and efficiently.
The salesman motioned him into one of many cheap plastic chairs and he took it anxiously, steeling himself for the incessant barrage of transparent sales tactics and insincere gratuities from the salesman. Gary had done his homework and he knew that he didn?t have to like the guy, he only had to make the guy think that he liked him.
"You like to haggle?" John asked, sitting down on the other side of the small round table.
"I just want to get into a new truck at a reasonable price," Gary answered cautiously, having been thrown off-guard by the question. His research had shown that dealers do not like to haggle and he found it disconcerting that he?d been thrown off kilter so quickly by one simple question.
Turning it around, he asked John if he liked to haggle.
"I?m sure you?ll be shocked," the salesman answered, thumbing through some paperwork on the table, "but the answer is yes. Most salesmen don?t like haggling but I do. It?s a good way to get to know a customer and a good fact-finding technique, as well. You may know what you want to buy when you walk through the door, but you may not know what you really want to buy...or what you need. That?s my job - helping identify what will really make you happy in the long run."
Gary nodded in agreement and his self-confidence ratcheted up yet another notch, as did his certainty that he would not be leaving the dealership without his truck. This would work, but it would have to work on his terms, not John?s.
"Now here's my deal," he said, after clearing his throat. He hoped his tone wasn't as timid as it sounded to him. "You pay off my car, the Daihatsu. I pay you no money down, and you keep my car payments right about where they are now.
"I'll run my wife to the hospital and when we're finished there, I'll come right back. That should give you more than enough time to put this deal together."
"We can do all that," John responded enthusiastically, a wide grin splitting out across his face. "Don?t you worry about that. We can make all that happen and probably more. Customer service is what we are all about, and we want to make sure you leave here happier than when you came in."
His enthusiasm was not contagious. If the truth were to be known, Gary wasn?t feeling all that well. There was something going down here, and he could almost smell it.
"Now, Gary, let?s get down to business. How much do you owe on the Daihatsu?"
"Ten five," he answered, glad that they had moved on to business. He thought of Tambria out in the car. Why had she not yet honked?
"Are you sure?"
"Beg pardon?"
"Are you sure you only owe ten five?" John repeated impatiently. Jesus, but the day was getting long.
"Yes. I looked it up on the Internet earlier this morning. It's actually ten thousand six-oh-nine. And some change. Pocket change, really."
"Who financed it?"
"The credit union up the road."
"Trina," the salesman called out to the front desk, without bothering to look up from the paperwork spread out before him. "Can you have someone run that Daihatsu? Get the payoff amount from the credit union."
"I'm on it," Trina affirmed, picking up the telephone. She was young, probably only twenty three or twenty four, and Gary hoped she wasn't thinking that his trade was a "girlie car." But even if she were, it didn?t matter; she soon would see him as the proud owner of a Dodge Dakota - a real truck.
John shuffled through some more paperwork for a bit, reorganizing the pile in front of him for the second or third time. It looked like busywork to Gary, but how was he to know?
As the process dragged on, he hoped that they wouldn?t catch the fact that he?d understated the payoff amount on the Daihatsu by a cool $1000.
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