A Nuisance

And his wife grinned, tilted up her chin and looked smugly at her son as her head indicated the father. She told the son, “He’s smooth. Take lessons.”

* * *

Stefan figured thirty was too young to get serious. There were too many women to choose from, and all were so delightful that the choosing was an engrossing chore. Well, there were a couple of burrs he’d met, but all the rest were pure delight.

As he drove his new Jeep in the direction of his car lot, his mind came to one of the burrs. She was the most irritating woman God had ever concocted. She worked for the local TV station and was serious about it. She’d be an old maid, a reject. She was already one of his discards.

Ah, but she was something to look at. Her name was Carrie Pierce, and she didn’t have the hip measure to please his mother. Carrie was slender. More like a long-legged reed. She had no bosom to speak of, and her hips were narrow. There was no way a man could get a hold on her.

Her hair was strawberry blond. She wore it long, and it was soft and wavy and got tangled up in everything. The wind teased it around so’s a man’s eyes watched, and his hands would curl for the wanting to get tangled up with her, hair and all.

But the brain under that lure was Carrie’s. It was sharp and snotty.

She’d look at a man with those dark brown eyes of hers, and her eyelashes would call attention to themselves in a total lack of modesty. Her brown eyes were like microwave radar, and she would say things like, “What was your car doing at Maggie’s the other night?” Just like it was her business to know!

Being a gentleman, he’d respond courteously, “It’s none of your business.”

And she’d sass “I’ll bet,” for whatever that meant.

She wasn’t even Polish, for crying out loud. Her, with her long, flyaway hair and those narrow hips.

* * *

When Stefan’s Jeep arrived at the dealership, he looked on the neat, perfectly parked lot with great pride. There were all the little flags lining the elevated wires to call attention to the car lot. The place was spotless. The cars shone in the good TEXAS sunshine. Actually, it was clouding over and about ready to allow the dry TEXAS soil a taste of heavenly moisture.

Stefan drove into his slot and eased himself from his Jeep with great alacrity, easily done with a Jeep. He loved that blunt car. He patted it as he would a good horse, and went into the glass-walled building.

Manny greeted him with, “Kirt Overmann came by for those two Jeeps he ordered.”

Stefan asked ominously and with dread, “Did you go over the Jeeps with him like I told you?”

“He was in a hurry.”

“Damn it, Manny, I told you he’d pull that on you! You were supposed to stall him off and get him to check out each one!”

Earnestly, Manny explained, or complained, “I just couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

Scowling, Stefan asked, “Which of the two did he pull?”

“The green one.”

Stefan moved his lips around as if rinsing his mouth with a minimum of water, and he guessed, “He’ll call just before supper and say the green one doesn’t work.”

“Leave now.”

“I can’t. Mac is coming in to make me look at that discard Jeep of his. You know what a pain that’ll be?”

Manny comforted his boss. “It isn’t even one of ours.”

“Try telling him that.”

“Show him our file! It isn’t there.”

Stefan looked at the damned cheerful flags. “He says we snuck the warranty out and burned it.”

“You got peculiar friends.”

“They’re enemies.” Stefan sighed. Then he mentioned, “You do recall that Kirt has three marriageable daughters he’s trying to palm off on unsuspecting men?”

And Manny’s nodding agreement was empathetic.

The phone rang, and Stefan said quickly, “Don’t answer it!”

But Manny had already picked it up, and he squinched his face in helpless distress. He had no choice, “Cisco’s.”

“Steve there?”

Manny’s courage only went so far, he said, “Yeah.” And he handed the phone to Stefan.

Giving Manny a narrowed-eyed look, Stefan punched the speaker button so Manny could hear both sides. Then he said to the phone, “Stefan here.”

And Kirt replied heartily, “Well, hello, Steve, got the Jeeps, but the green one don’t want to work. How about coming out and fixing it.” A demand.

Stefan looked at his watch. “I can make it about nine-thirty tomorrow morning.”

And Kirt asked, “What’s pushing you tonight? Everybody ‘round owes me, I’ll use one of the IOU’s to pry you free tonight.”

“It’s a woman.”

There was a pause, and then Kirt asked in a rather deadly way, “Who?”

And right out of his mouth, Stefan lied very stupidly, “Carrie.”

Relief rushed through Kirt’s, “Carrie? Great! She’s here now. You can pick her up...here. Plan on supper.” And he hung up.

Stefan slowly, gently recradled the phone. He looked up at Manny’s compassionate face and asked, “How many times is it, now, that I’m going to strangle you?”

“Last count? I think I’m down to thirteen.”

“Thirteen isn’t a lucky count.”

“Well, it’ll go down lower if you go on out to Kirt’s tonight for supper. You got Carrie to protect you from Kirt’s daughters, you can get the green Jeep put back together, eat and sneak away whole.”

“You go.”

“You know good and well tonight’s my night off. You’re the boss, and you get to fill in for me.” He smiled. “You want me to rescue Carrie? I’d be glad to save her and have her grateful.”

“Don’t.”