I laugh."I doubt it's a fatal injury, Morgan.But best to leave it for now and come back with a flatbed after the snow lets up."
"Of all the motherfucking—" I lose the rest of her grumbled cursing as she twists in the seat to grab her purse from the passenger seat and then awkwardly hauls her big duffel bag full of gear through the front seats from the rear bench.I open her door and take it from her, and a moment later, we're in my toasty truck and back on the road.
"Oh god, it's so warm in here," she says, unraveling the scarf and pushing her hat up away from her eyes.
"Sorry about your car, Morgan," I say.
She shakes her head."Cherry has taken care of me for almost twenty-five years, Noah.Bought her new.Guess it shouldn't be a surprise that she's starting to show her age."She huffs a sarcastic laugh, twisting a tendril of black hair woven with strands of silver."But then, so'm I."
"Pretty impressive, honestly.You've never owned a different car?"
She shakes her head."Nope.Just Cherry."
"Well, no guarantees, obviously, but I'm hopeful it's something that can be fixed without too much trouble.”I glance at her."Where am I going?"
"South on Elkheart Road, on the left just past McGovern's Taxidermy."
"Ah, Terry's, gotcha.You're the split-level with the pink front door."
She winces."Yeah, that's me.Been meaning to repaint it for years, I just never seem to make time for it."
"Can I ask why a pink front door?"I say, grinning.
"When Mal was eight, she went through an everything-pink phase—shoes, hats, gloves, coats, underwear, blankets.Everything had to be Barbie pink.She was demanding that I let her dye her hair pink.If she'd been a teenager, I may have let her do temporary dye, but permanent dye at eight?No way.So painting our front door pink was a compromise.One I've regretted every single day since, whenever I drive up and see that peeling pink paint on my front door."
"When Noah was six, he went through a cowboy phase.He wore a hat, vest, chaps, boots, and an empty holster literally every day.He wore the hat to bed, and I'm dead serious.He put it over his eyes, like they do in the movies, y'know.Every other kid his age, it was Ninja Turtles, Transformers, Power Rangers, shit like that.Noel was stuck on cowboys.Cowboy wallpaper, and that shit took me two days to put up, and I about ripped all my damn hair out in the process.Fucking bubbles and…" I shake my head."Nearly thirty years later, and just thinking about itstillraises my blood pressure.We couldn't tell him it was dinner time, we had to say it was time for grub."
Morgan splutters a laugh."Oh, wow.He was really all in, huh?"
"You have no idea.The boots were the real big thing, though.One day, he got out of the bath, put his wet feet into his boots, and went stomping around the yard in nothin' but the boots and his holster, firing his cap gun and yelling yee-haw, naked as a jaybird.Thank god we didn't have any neighbors."
She laughs."Okay, but is that cowboy wallpaper still up in the room?"
I grin."Matter of fact, it is.We thought he'd want to take it down at some point, but even as a teenager, he was just like, nah, it's nostalgic.I think westerns are still a guilty pleasure for him, actually.”
She shakes her head, huffing a quiet laugh."Kids, huh?"
No time like the present, I guess, right?"Speaking of kids, about the other day…"
She holds up a hand."I shouldn't have snapped at you the way I did, Noah.That's on me, and I apologize."
"No, no, I butted my big nose in where it had no business being.I just love hockey, and I love watching kids find joy in it; that's all.I'd never want to get between you and your girl.Not my place, and I'm sorry if I caused trouble."
I make a left onto Elkheart, and we pass Terry McGovern's taxidermy shop.Not a hundred yards further down is Morgan's house, a cute little split-level ranch—white siding, red brick, and a shingle roof in need of updating, a two-car garage, and a low upper story with navy blue shutters.And the bright pink front door.All in all, the home is older, shows signs of age, and needs a bit of maintenance, but it's clearly well-loved.I pull up into the driveway and twist the shifter knob into park."Here you are.I'm coming off my twenty-four, so hit me up tomorrow and I'll help you with Cherry."
She sighs, nodding."I will.Thanks, Noah."
My stomach chooses that moment of silence to let out a snarl that sounds more like an angry tiger than a stomach.
Morgan cocks an eyebrow at me."When was the last time you ate?"
I shrug."I dunno.I had a sandwich a while ago.I'm less than ten minutes from here, though.I'm good.I've got some microwave dinners I can nuke."
She shakes her head."Yeah, no.C'mon.You rescued me—the least I can do is make sure our brave and noble fire captain doesn't starve…or eat frozen microwave dinners.”
I snicker."Hey, I've got a Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes just waiting for its four minutes in the microwave."
She makes a disgusted face."Okay, first, ew.Second, absolutely the fuck not.Third, just no.Salisbury steak isn't even good made fresh in a restaurant.”
