"Sheesh! Give me a few points for self-control!" I snapped at my cranky husband. I wanted to stop at a sporting goods store "Going Out of Business" sale we passed in the mall.
"There's nothing we need," was his usual grumpy comment. "It's all overpriced junk. If they had anything good, they wouldn't be going out of business."
"But it's sporting goods," I wheedled. "Could be some good deals for the grandkids. And you like boats and fishing stuff. I've put up with that photo of your 'dream canoe' stuck on the bathroom mirror for years now. Maybe you'd enjoy just looking around?"
"Are you crazy?" His eyes got funny. "The boat I want is the Supremo Numero-Uno. Soon as I finish saving up 6,000 bucks for that baby, I'm going to order it custom, in silver, right from the manufacturer. This loser store wouldn't carry something like THAT. And I'm sure not going near those sucker crowds."
"You're so darn negative!" I retorted. "I happen to like crowds. I promise I won't buy anything, but I'm going to look around. You go for coffee, and I'll meet you back here in half an hour."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, old girl," he chuckled in that self-satisfied way that always riled me. "I know you're going to come out of there with useless junk. You always do."
His words made me mad. How dare he accuse me of being frivolous! I prided myself on being a wise shopper. "Boy, I'll show him," I promised myself. I would not buy a darn thing, no matter what.
I squared my chin and marched into the crowded store. Aisles and aisles of equipment were strung with huge signs: CLOSING OUT SALE - Up to 80% OFF. NO REFUNDS.
Up and down the aisles I strolled, enjoying the frenetic energy of a sale.
All of a sudden, there, at the back of the store, in gleaming silver, sat the exact canoe from my husband's picture. I gasped. My heart beat wildly. I elbowed my way through the crowds and scrambled over junk to find the price tag.
There it was: the manufacturer's suggested retail price of $6,750 crossed out, replaced with a handwritten TO CLEAR $750 AS IS. NO RETURNS.
Must be a mistake. I spotted a young fellow with a "Hi, I'm Mathew" tag. "Mathew, tell me about this canoe. Why is it only $750?"
"Oh, there's nothing wrong with it. It's brand new. We're closing the store, that's all. It's on clearance. I think that price includes lifejackets, paddles, and fishing gear, too. I'll go check."
A few minutes later, he returned. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Someone made a mistake on the sale tag. It's supposed to be $4,750 for the whole package. My dad, who's running the close-out, said it was worth more than $8,000 regular price, so it's still a real good deal."
Tears welled up in my eyes. "Oh well," I said sadly. "Of course, it was too good to be true. This is exactly my husband's dreamboat. He's going to be 62 on Friday. Had to retire early for his health. The stubborn old fool has been saving $10 every week for years to buy one just like this. Just an old man's silly dream. Always said he wanted to spend his retirement fishing in a canoe." My voice trailed off as I turned and walked away.
I was already at the mall door when Mathew caught up with me. "Do you have $750 plus $25 for delivery and a bit more for tax, ma'am?"
I gasped. "Yes. That's about all I have," I said, thinking fleetingly of the cataract surgery I was saving up for.
"Well then, you just have your husband sitting on the front porch Friday morning around 10 o'clock so he can be there when my dad and I come to unload his new boat. We'll even put a bow on it for his birthday."
I started to cry. My old hand shook as I wrote out the cheque. Mathew swallowed hard.
"Ma'am, there's something you should know. This store was my Grampa's. He ran it for over 30 years. He always promised to retire one day, said he wanted to spend time relaxing and fishing in a canoe. He ordered this one, custom, for himself last year but... just never took the time to use it." He swallowed harder. "My Grampa died, sudden-like, just last week. He was only 68. I think he'd be mighty happy that your husband will get this canoe. My dad thinks so too. You just have to make sure he uses it a lot, okay? Promise?"
I handed Mathew a tissue. We stood there for a moment, lost in our own thoughts.
"I promise," I said, as I dashed off to look for my dear sweet husband.