The Shopping List

Hank Stanley frowned as he read his wife's shopping list again. He could not believe she'd included that last item, then scampered off to play Bunko with her friends, leaving him alone and defenseless. Why couldn't she pick it up herself *after* Bunko? Resigned, Hank pushed himself up out of his chair, and grabbing his keys off the side table, he left the house.

Victoria Stanley had taken the sky blue Edsel to her Bunko game, and with his three-year-old Mustang at Rusty's Auto Repair for required maintenance, that left Hank with the rusty, beat up old pick up truck. The Beater, as he fondly called the sad excuse for a motor vehicle, was the first truck Hank had ever owned, and even though it was on its last legs, he couldn't bear to part with it. He climbed into the cab, and inserted the key. The Beater whined and moaned as Hank turned the key once, twice, and finally a third time. Eventually it fell silent. The old truck was finally dead.

*Crap. Now how am I supposed to get the shopping done before Tor gets home?*

Hank got out of the truck and closed the door gently, fondly patting the hood of the old machine as he walked by. *It's been a great run, old friend!*

Returning to the house, he collapsed in his chair to think.

*I suppose I could call a cab. No, that would be a stupid waste of money. The bus? Nah. Too far away, and considering the number of items on this list, it's gonna be more than two bags. I'd never be able to carry everything. I suppose I could call one of the guys . . . no. Bad idea. I'm probably the last person they want to see on their day off, and besides, with this last item . . . *

Hank sighed. "Why can't my life ever be easy?" He asked aloud.

The family's large, tiger striped tabby cat approached and rubbed up against his leg, then looked up at him questioningly and replied, "Murrrp?"

Hank reached down to scratch the animal's head. "You don't know how good you've got it, pal," he said to the cat, then, making up his mind, he sighed again and picked up the phone beside him. Out of everyone he knew, there was only one man he trusted right now to help him out. From memory he dialed the phone, and waited for the answer on the other end.

"DeSoto residence."

"Ah, Roy? It's Hank."

"Oh, hey, hi, Cap! What's up?"

"I hate to bug you on your day off, Roy, and I'm sure you see enough of me at the station, but I need a favour, pal," Hank said to his senior paramedic.

"Oh, sure, Cap, no problem, what is it?"

"Well, Tori's off at Bunko . . ."

"Yeah, I know, she picked Joanne up a little while ago," Roy interrupted.

"Heh, yeah, she can practically fit the whole Bunko group in that old car of hers!" Hank laughed, then grew serious again. "Anyway, ah, Roy, she left me a shopping list, and my car's at Rusty's, and the Beater's just conked out on me, and . . ."

"You were wondering if I could give you a lift to the grocery store, right, Cap?"

Hank chuckled again. "Yeah, that's about it."

"Well, you're in luck, Cap. Joanne's given me a shopping list as well. I was just about to leave when you called."

"Well, that's good timing, then," Hank said, cheering up considerably.

"Yeah. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Great, thanks, Roy, I really appreciate it!"

"No problem, Cap. See ya in a few."

"Yeah, bye, Roy."

Hank hung up the phone feeling much better than he had a few minutes earlier.

***

Twenty minutes later, Hank climbed into Roy's truck with a smile on his face. "Thanks a lot Roy, I really appreciate this," he said.

"No problem, Cap," Roy replied. "I was going there anyway!"

The two exchanged small talk and pondered the mystery of Bunko on the way to Murphy's Market, and by the time they arrived, Hank had almost forgotten about the embarrassing final item on the list. The feeling didn't last long, however, as he chose a cart, and opened the list to start shopping. He frowned at the item as Roy pulled his own shopping cart up along side him.

"Something wrong, Cap?" Roy asked, noticing his superior's sour look.

"Huh? Oh, no, no, Roy," Hank said, trying to look as if nothing was wrong. Like there wasn't an embarrassing feminine product listed on the paper he held. "I was just having trouble deciphering some of Tori's chicken scratching."

Roy gave Hank a look that clearly said, *I don't believe you*, but he decided to let it go.

*Whatever it is, it's none of my business,* he thought.

Aloud he said, "Well? Shall we?"

"Sure. Let's start with the produce."

The two men wove their way though the throng of early evening grocery shoppers and paused at the head of the produce aisle, each consulting their list.

*Tomatoes, celery, zucchini . . .* Hank paused in the silent reading of his list. "What the heck is zucchini?" He said, not realizing he spoke out loud.

"It's, ah, Italian squash," Roy told him. "It's down here."

Roy lead them down to the section where the squash was, and pointed to a bin filled with dark green, oblong shaped vegetables.

"There ya go, Cap," he said. "Zucchini."

Hank referred to his list, and noting the bracketed number 2 beside the requested vegetable, reached out and grabbed two of the long, green squash. After depositing them in a clear plastic bag, Hank dropped the bundle into his cart, and proceeded to gather the other produce items on the list. Roy did the same, and the two met up in the fruit section when they finished.

"So, what's next on your list, Roy?" Hank asked, but Roy didn't seem to hear him. The man was looking at the display of strawberries. The plump, red berries looked delicious, and made the paramedic's mouth water. Without a word, he grabbed a small container, put it in a plastic bag, and set it gently in his cart before turning back to his captain. The man's curious and slightly amused glance made Roy blush.

"Jo likes strawberries," he explained. "I'll have to remember to pick up some whipped cream and sparkling grape juice."

Hank smiled at Roy's comment, and looked almost longingly at the ripe, red berries.

"What about Tori, Cap? Is she a berry fan?"

"Well, she would be, but she's allergic," Hank told him. "Makes her tongue swell up and crack open . . ." He stopped and waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind. Let's just say it's uncomfortable and unpleasant!"

"Wow, I guess," the paramedic agreed. "Sorry to hear it."

"Yeah," Hank said sadly as he pushed his cart away from the temping display. "So was I."

The two headed off to the meat counter, and kept the butcher busy for a good ten minutes with their orders. As they headed down the frozen foods aisle, Roy's curiosity got the best of him, and he finally asked, "How did you find out about the strawberry allergy?"

Hank smiled. He'd been wondering how long it would take the unobtrusive but still curious paramedic to ask the question.

"Ironically, Roy, it was similar to what you have planned," Hank replied, and enjoyed the man's embarrassed flush more than he supposed he should. "It was our first anniversary, and on the advise of a good friend who was very lucky with the ladies, I purchased some fresh strawberries, some whipped cream, and a bottle of inexpensive, but still drinkable champagne. I was promised a quote unquote exciting evening, by my friend." Hank paused to chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, it was exciting all right! Tori no sooner bit into, chewed, and swallowed the strawberry I'd fed her, than she began gasping, and stuck her tongue out. It was at least twice it's normal size, and was all cracked; it started oozing blood."

"Holy cow!" Roy exclaimed, truly shocked by the Captain's description of his wife's allergic reaction.

"Yeah, well, I rushed her to the emergency room, and that's when we found out she was allergic. She was in the hospital a couple days recovering. Haven't had a strawberry in the house since."

"What about the girls, are they allergic?" Roy asked.

Hank shrugged. "Don't know. To my knowledge they've never had a strawberry."

Roy did not respond, but pushed his cart forward thoughtfully. It was hard for him to imagine not having a strawberry. They were easily one his favourite treats, and luckily Joanne loved them too, *and* wasn't allergic to them. His mind drifted to the romantic evening he had planned with his wife, but images of Tori Stanley's swollen, bleeding tongue kept popping into his head, and he shook it to dislodge the tragic sight.

"Well, I need bread and milk, Roy, how 'bout you?" Hank said, pulling Roy from his reverie. He glanced down at his list and replied. "Yeah, Cap, me, too."

The two men quickly picked out the bread and milk, and Roy grabbed a canister of Redi-Whip, blushing furiously to his ears while his superior smirked. Soon they were parked in front of the checkout aisles going over their lists once more. Hank kept staring at the last item on his list wishing it would just disappear, but it didn't. He was too embarrassed to go pick up the items with Roy around, and quickly came up with an excuse to part with the man.

"Oh crap! I forgot something!" Hank said, hoping he sounded convincing. "Roy, why don't you go ahead and get in line, and I'll catch up to you."

"Okay, Cap," Roy said, and Hank could've swore he sounded relieved. *Probably freaked him out with the strawberry story,* Hank thought, regretfully. *Good going, Stanley!*

He turned his cart around and headed down the canned vegetable aisle, planning on doubling back to the place he really needed to go. As he reached the dreaded aisle, he braced himself and took a deep breath.

*You can do this, Stanley,* he thought, trying desperately to convince himself. *You're a fire station captain for Pete's sake! You make life and death decisions for yourself and your men each and every day! You can go down this aisle! You can pick up the . . . the . . .Oh, never mind! Just go get the cursed things!*

With newfound determination, Hank headed confidently down the aisle, and was immediately dumbstruck by the numerous brightly coloured boxes that lined the shelves. He glanced at his list again, and was thankful his wife at least put the name of the product she needed. The word "Kotex" shone like a neon light on the page, and Hank was certain the entire store knew he was about to reach out and grab a bright blue box of tampons.

Just as he stuck his hand out, his cart was bumped, causing his heart to jump up into his throat. He turned just as a male voice said, "Oh I'm sorry . . . ah, Cap?"

Hank blinked. "Roy?"

Hank was sure his face mirrored Roy's blush, but he had to chuckle at it just the same.

"So, what are you here for, Pal?"

"Stay Free Maxi Pads," the paramedic replied sheepishly, flashing his shopping list at Hank. "You?"

"Kotex tampons."

There was a pregnant pause then the two men burst into hysterical giggles.

"Why didn't you *say* you needed to come down here?" Roy asked.

"Why didn't *you*," Hank countered, and Roy just shrugged.

They laughed again, embarrassed, but relieved that their "secret" was now out. Hank reached out and grabbed the box of Kotex, casually tossing it casually into his cart. Roy grabbed the Stay Free box, and put it in his own cart. Still chuckling, the two men made their way to the checkout stand.

***

The End

***

Disclaimer: "Emergency!" and its characters are owned by Mark VII Productions and Universal, I think. I'm not really sure who owns all that. All I know is I don't own any of it, nor would I want to. No infringement on any copyrights or trademarks is intended in any way, shape, or form. This is just a story, and is meant for fun, nothing else. Enjoy!