I'll Stop the World
"I've got to get petrol first, Phyllis," Joe said somewhat apologetically as they pulled into the station.
"Not a problem," she replied, digging into her clutch for some notes and handing them out to him.
"Put those away," he scolded.
She argued briefly, then acquiesced long enough for him to turn to the fuel pump. As soon as his back was turned, she stuffed the notes under his center console. When he turned back around and gave her a suspicious look, she pretended to be examining his iPod.
"Do you have anything on here from the last 20 years, Joe?" she teased. He pretended not to hear her, struggling in the wind from the lorries to keep his hair from blowing wildly around his head.
Joe hadn't been Phyllis' first choice for this errand. Ever since her car has groaned its last in his drive, he'd been wonderfully helpful and attentive in getting her from point A to point B until she could finally finagle a new vehicle. Well…new to her. And several decades newer than her trusty old Vauxhall.
All their friends had helped her out during the three months of looking and negotiating, but Joe in particular had been her strong right arm. She was reluctant to impose on him any further, particularly as the dealer she was finally able to do business with was in York.
But no one else was available. And just when she was preparing for a tedious bus ride, he'd called her up and offered to drive her. In fact, he sounded almost excited as she was. Her initial objections were brushed aside and she found herself being talked into a forty minute road trip with Joe Molesley and not really minding it a bit.
"You need anything from the shop?" he asked, sticking his head in through the window. "Drink? Crisps?"
"I'm fine, thanks," she said with a smile as she continued to scroll through his vast collection of 80s music.
He smiled back as he watched her. When she looked up at him, wondering why he was just standing there with his head through the window, he pulled back abruptly, rapping the back of head on the frame.
"Alright, Joe?"
"Yeah…yeah…um, I'll be right back," he stammered as he beat a hasty path towards the shop to pay for the petrol. Phyllis winced as he bounced off the side of late model Nissan, incurring a rude gesture from the owner.
Shaking her head, she tapped playlists and was amused to see he'd organized his music into playlists by year and by genre.
"Type A much, Joe?" she muttered, wondering if she should lobby for 1984 or 1987 for their driving music. Her finger swiped idly up and down the lists, and she almost missed the one at the end.
Phyllis.
With a quick glance over to the store, where she assured that he was waiting impatiently in a queue, she indulged her curiosity and tapped the playlist. Her eyes widened as she saw a few of the titles:
Don't You Want Me…Come On, Eileen…Strip…Don't You Forget About Me…I Want to Know What Love Is…Let's Dance…
"There must be fifty songs on here," she mused, a flush appearing on her cheeks.
She looked back over to the store to see him at the front of the queue and a mischievous twinkle appeared in her eyes. Hoping her face didn't give her away, she plugged the iPod into the dock and smiled at him as he got back in the car.
"Ready? Did you pick out some music?" he asked.
"I couldn't decide which year to go with, so I thought we could just shuffle," she replied.
Uh…well, there's nothing very recent on there."
"I noticed," she said dryly, her lips twitching to hold back a giggle.
As he pulled out into traffic, Phyllis turned on the radio, pulled up the playlist and pushed shuffle. The forty minutes passed too quickly as they celebrated nostalgia with the windows down and the playlist dedicated to her playing right under Joe's nose.
"These have been some of my favorites!" Joe yelled over the wind and the music. "Somedays the shuffle just hits it for a boundary six, doesn't it?"
Phyllis just nodded, not trusting herself to speak without laughing and spoiling the fun.
When they arrived at the car dealer, Phyllis led him over excitedly to see her new Ford. He made a show out of inspecting everything while she signed the final paperwork and received the keys.
"Why's that bloke kicking your tires?" the salesman asked, watching Joe with mild contempt.
"He likes to kick tires," she replied, shutting him up with the ice in her voice. She stood at the window watching him for a moment as he made a point of popping the bonnet, and then staring at it like he expected turnips to pour out of it.
"It all looks pretty good," he said as she hurried excitedly over to him. He made a vague gesture at the engine. "Are you happy with it?"
"Ecstatic!"
He smiled as she gently closed the bonnet and watched her with soft eyes while she got into the driver's seat and started the motor.
"Listen, Joe! No knocks, clanks, growls or screeches. Just pure, functioning engine!"
"Beautiful," he agreed, not looking at the car at all. "This calls for a celebration, or something. Is everyone getting together at the pub later?"
"I don't think so," she said regretfully. "I'll probably stand everyone a drink this weekend, though."
"So…you've got no plans then?" he asked, scuffing the ground with his foot.
"None whatsoever."
"How about you come over to mine? I'll make dinner, or something," he muttered, not looking directly at her.
"Sounds lovely, Joe. Seven?"
"You mean it? I mean…sure. Seven works." His eyes widened when she suddenly got out of the car and put her arms around him.
"Thanks so much for the ride, Joe. And all the help you've been over the last three months. I really, really appreciate it."
He hugged her back, closing his eyes and hoping she didn't notice his trembling.
"And I really enjoyed the music today," she added as she kissed his cheek and got back into her car.
"Good…that's great…" he replied in a daze. An impatient horn made him jump and dash over to move his own car as Phyllis began to drive out of the lot. He fumbled with his iPod while trying to think of what to make for dinner, freezing when he noticed the playlist that had ben playing.
He jerked his head up to see Phyllis wave and mouth "see you tonight," as she left. Dragging his eyes back to the screen of his iPod, he moaned and dropped his head onto his steering wheel.
"Well…at least you weren't in your undershorts this time," he groaned to himself.
By the time he returned home, completely forgetting to go back to work for the afternoon, he'd managed to convince himself that it had been a coincidence and she hadn't noticed the playlist named for her. It was either that, or make immediate plans for his memorial following his demise from terminal embarrassment.
Phyllis drove up Joe's drive in an entirely different frame of mind than the last time she had done so. And it wasn't all down to the thrill of a new car. She glanced over at the bottle of wine on the passenger seat and smiled even wider as she found herself humming Into the Groove.
She'd recognized that expression of gormless panic on Joe's face when she was leaving the car dealer. He'd found the playlist on the iPod.
"I'm not likely to be treated to another dance in his shorts this time," she murmured.
Music poured from the open windows - Uptown Girl. Knowing he'd never hear her knock, she went on in and quietly walked to the kitchen.
He was wearing an apron, enthusiastically draining pasta and warbling "I'm gonna try for an uptown girl…" when he caught sight of her standing in the doorway, grinning.
"I didn't hear you knock!"
"I'm not surprised!" she hollered back. "Turn it down a notch, Downtown Man!"
He dropped the colander into the sink and sheepishly turned down the volume. She handed him the bottle of wine over his half hearted protests that she didn't need to bring anything and grabbed some glasses from the counter.
"Smells nice," she said, gesturing to the stovetop where a covered pot rattled. He poured some wine for both of them and turned down the heat on the burner.
"Well, its about the only thing I can really make…. Shall we drink to your new car?"
"Hmmm…how about we drink to music and memories instead?" she answered, raising her glass and looking him in the eye while he flushed and sputtered on his sip.
"Um…that playlist…I can explain," he began. She smiled expectantly. "Those songs…well…" He looked anywhere but in her eyes. "I can't help thinking about you, you know, when I hear them."
"There's a lot of them," she said gently.
"Well, I think about you all the time. Have done for a while now."
"Were you ever going to, maybe, mention that to me?"
"Once my iPod filled up, probably. But its a 16 gig, so…"
She laughed and he laughed nervously in relief.
"I'd, uh, better give that a stir," he said, gesturing to the pot on the stove.
"Go ahead," she said, sipping her wine and watching him. He stirred and tasted, frowning as he pondered more seasonings.
"You know, Joe," she said casually, tipping her glass back and forth and watching the wine slosh. "There are songs that remind me of you."
"Really?" he said incredulously. "Like what?"
"Can you put that on simmer?" she asked, smiling as she went over to his iPod. He turned around from the stove, eyes wide, as Modern English began pouring from the speakers.
"Moving forward, using all my breath…" Phyllis sang as she took the spoon out of his hands and pulled him into the middle of the kitchen floor. He watched in breathless bemusement as she untied the apron and lifted it over his head, leaving her arms draped around his neck.
"…Making love to you was never second best…"
His arms went around her waist as they began to dance in his kitchen.
"I'll stop the world and melt with you…" she sang into his ear. "I've seen some changes, but it's getting better all the time…"
"The future's open wide," he chimed in. She pulled away to smile at him, and their eyes locked as they danced their way through the rest of the song.
He looked as if he was about to say something when it ended, but looked over at his iPod in confusion when the opening bars started up again. Phyllis took his chin in her hand and pulled his face back around to hers.
"I put it on repeat," she murmured, as she leaned forward to kiss him deeply. "Will the pasta keep?"
He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, pulling her tightly to him.
"It makes a pretty good breakfast," he replied breathlessly.
