My PopSicle is Melting

The sounds and smells of summer seemed to flop down at once in the little neighborhood of Costa de Meca – children could be heard playing in the streets and in the manicured lawns, the aroma of hamburgers or steaks or hot dogs on various grills crept through the air and then, there was the sound of the ice cream truck.

Tracey Wingate sat on her front steps and watched as the kids started running to the edges of their properties, coins in hand. She laughed at her neighbors across the street – the bachelors, Rick and Matt, as they jokingly pushed their way out their front door, hollering, “Ice Cream Truck.”

It was a beautiful day to be in east Texas, even if it was a hot day. She pulled a string off the bottom of her blue jean shorts, and wiped her chin with the collar of her gray pullover t-shirt. Sitting up, she rubbed off a some lint from the Texas A&M logo on the front.

Her long, chocolate brown hair was pulled back in a dark scrunchie, and it was irritating her, so she pulled it out. From behind her mirrored sunglasses, her green eyes kept an eye on the kids and grown-ups gathering around their circle. Out of the corner of her right eye, she could see the multi-colored ice cream truck pulling through the neighborhood.

The door shut behind her, and she felt him moving closer to her, before she saw his hazelnut colored legs beside her, and his white Nike shoes. Joe Washington tapped the top of her head with his hand, “You want something?”

She looked up at him, and he was smiling at her with his infectious, dimpled grin. Tracey felt her heart skip a beat. In her mind, she thought, “God, thank you for this man.” Out loud, Tracey said, “Yup, please.”

He nodded, and walked slowly toward the end of the drive. Tracey watched him as his gait was sturdy, determined and confident, and oh, his backside was nice. Muscles in the legs and the arms were packaged nicely in his black jersey shorts, and his gray US. Marines t-shirt. His dark hair was cut sort of like his barber decided to copy the way that Denzel Washington and Mark Wahlberg had their hair cut -a crew with length. It fit him.

Joe turned around, “Quit looking at my butt, Tracey.” He peeked at her with his brown eyes glittering in the sunlight.

Tracey laughed, and stretched out her legs in front of her. “Just get my Bomb Pop, boy.”

Joe walked over to where Rick and Matt were, and the three of them started laughing and talking. Several of the kids surrounded them. Rick and Matt were like everyone’s favorite uncle, and everyone – parents and kids in the neighborhood loved Joe like that too. The three of them would joke with the kids, encouraged them, coordinated neighborhood football and basketball games and sometimes, they would treat all the kids to ice cream.

Which Tracey was pretty sure Joe was doing right now as the truck stopped in front of them.

He would be a good dad one day.

Tracey sighed. She and Joe met in college, and it was not love at first sight. He was a sophomore her freshman year, and had just earned a starting spot on the school’s football team as a wide receiver. She was on the newspaper staff, and had the task of interviewing him for a spotlight. It was not a good meeting – she found him cocky and a sexist, and he found her stubborn, and judgey. But, fate took control, and a second encounter – at a bookstore on a rainy afternoon – gave the two of them a new look at each other. It was not an easy road for them to take – he is African American and she is Caucasian. No matter what anyone says, interracial relationships are not always looked highly upon as folks like to pretend they are. Joe was her best friend. Tracey was his.

That was 14 years ago. He had just spent 10 years in the Marines on active duty, received several honors, and was in the process of retiring. Tracey had changed majors her sophomore year, and decided she wanted to be a doctor – a pediatrician. Med school led her into the field of being a trauma surgeon. Her skills and compassion and discernment proved her to be top in her field.

And they were still together. Marriage might be in the cards, but they had not talked about it in a while. Tracey reflected. She wondered why.

Joe leaned around the back of the ice cream truck, and had her Bomb Pop in his hand. He gestured her over, “Nugget, come here a minute.”

That was his nickname for her. She shook her head. “You come here. It is too hot.” Tracey called.

Joe looked at her, and said, “Tracey Elizabeth, come here.” He pointed to the front of the truck.

She looked over to where he was pointing. One of their neighbors, a 70-year-old man named Phillip, was being helped to the bumper to sit down by Rick and the man’s son. Rick looked up at her.

Tracey threw her sunglasses down, and ran over to the man. He was gasping for air, and holding his stomach. “Phillip, what's going on?” Tracey asked as she came closer.

That is when she saw it – blood was seeping out of his ear. “Did you get hit? Did he get hit?” She stared at the ear. Rick shook his head, and shrugged.

“Rick, go in the house. My bag is on the dining room table.” She said. Rick nodded and went running over to Tracey and Joe’s.

Joe and Matt were keeping the other kids distracted. Tracey looked at the ear, felt Phillip’s pulse. “Are you dizzy?” In Joe’s hand, Tracey’s Popsicle started dripping.

He nodded.

“Can you hear me? Does it sound like clear or muffled?” She asked him. His son, she couldn’t remember his name, said, “He said he felt like he was spinning.”

Rick came running back with Tracey’s bag. “OK, what I am thinking is your eardrum busted, Phillip. But I need to look at it.”

Joe peeked around the truck to see how things were going, and held Tracey’s Popsicle out a little ways as it slowly began to melt away.

“Guys, let’s get him over his backyard – there is a chaise lounge still there right?” Tracey asked pointing to the fence leading into the backyard behind the house they were in front of.

Phillip nodded.

“OK, lean on the guys, and I want you to tilt your head down a little bit … the bloods going to come out, but it is OK. I am right behind you. Joe, call for a bus for me.” She hollered, and pointed toward the yard. She pointed to her ear and to their neighbor.

Joe nodded, and got his cell phone out of his pocket. Tracey’s Popsicle dripped faster. He didn’t think it was going to last. “Hey, this is Joe Washington, calling for Dr. Tracey Wingate, we need a bus to 1634 Gallery Drive in Costa de Meca, 70 year old man, dizziness, blood from the right ear, possible ear drum burst. Go to the backyard. Dr Wingate is with him. Thanks.” He hung up, and saw that his hand was now a mess with melted Popsicle.

The kids had disbursed, and no one realized the red marks in the grass or on the road was blood. Someone said, “Oh, it is just a melted Popsicle.” Matt looked at Joe, and grinned, “I will go get my hose.”

“Hey Sam,” Joe knocked on the ice cream truck.

“Yeah, Joe?” The driver stuck his head out the back door of the truck. “Tracey’s Popsicle melted.”

“Doc loves her Bomb pops, here you go.” He handed him two - “one for now and one for later.”

Joe reached for his wallet. “You just paid for all these kids … your money is no good anymore.” Sam winked. “Better go put those up so they don’t melt. Tell Doc she's the woman.”

Joe took the Popsicle, and said, “Thanks, man. Be careful out there.” Joe winked, and walked toward his house.

An hour later, after the ambulance left with Phillip, Tracey walked across the street, carrying her duffel bag. Rick went home. Joe was sitting on the front porch swing, reading a some in Bob Goff’s new book, “Dream Big.”

“Well, it looks like he had a growth on his ear drum that just decided to burst, causing his eardrum to burst, and now they have got him, prepped, and stable. They will xray him, and he will need surgery, but he will be fine.” Tracey sat down next to him, putting her bag on the swing next to her.

He put his arm around her, “That is my super-girl.” He kissed her forehead. “How are you?”

“I am good. Rick by the way was amazing. Dude just surprises me everyday with what he is capable of ….” She said.

Joe laughed, “He is not a dumb jock like you thought, huh?”

Tracey sat up, and said, “No. Did you know he was a medic in Iraq?”

“No, I didn’t. I knew he was there, but he never really talks about it. Are you hungry?” He asked. “Supper is on the way.”

She said, “What are we having?”

Joe said, “Chick-Fil-A … UberEats should be here in about 10 minutes.”

“Good. I am going to put this inside.” Tracey got up, and grabbed her bag. She stopped. “My Popsicle?”

Joe stood up behind her. “Um, well, it kind of melted.”

Tracey opened the door, and walked in, sighed, “Oh well. I am going to go wash up again. I had my gloves on, but just feel the need to wash up a little more.” She walked down the hall to their bedroom, and put her bag on the chair by the door, and walked in the bathroom.

Joe walked into the kitchen, and opened the freezer. He took out one of the Bomb pops, and stuck something on the stick, and walked with it behind his back down the hall.

“What is Phillip’s son’s name? I can’t remember it to save my life!” Tracey called from the bathroom.

She was drying her hands on a towel when Joe walked to the doorway, and leaned against it. “Jeff.”

“Lord, how could I forget? He went to school with my brother.” She put the towel back on the rack, and then noticed Joe had an odd look on his face. “What’s with the face?”

Joe asked, “What?”

That is when Tracey noticed he had something behind his back. “What is that?” She asked.

“Here you go. From Sam with love, said you are the woman.” He handed her the Popsicle.

Tracey laughed, “Sam, Sam. I will save this for after dinner.” Then she noticed there was a piece of paper tied to the stick. “What is this?” Joe walked in the bathroom behind her, her back was to him.

“I don’t know, a love note from Sam?” He said.

Tracey opened the note. “Will You Marry Me? Check Yes Or No?” She read it out loud, and stopped for a minute. “Joe?”

She turned around, and Joe was on one knee, and had a ring in his hand, behind her. “This is not when I was going to do this, but I figured why not today? Why wait any longer? It is time, Tracey Elizabeth, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The Popsicle started leaking through the wrapper, and Tracey could feel something rolling down her hand. “My Popsicle is melting.”

Joe laughed. “Is that all you can say?”

Tracey held it in her hand, and it was melting. “I … Yes, yes, I will marry you.”

Joe put the ring on Tracey’s finger, and took the Popsicle from her, and stood up, he kissed her. “I love you.”

She smiled, “I love you too.” The diamond in the ring was in the shape of a star– Joe had it designed that way. “This ring.” She looked at it.

“You put the shine in the stars for me,” he grinned.

They hugged, and kissed, and Tracey finally said, “Joe, my Popsicle is melting.”

The second Bomb pop was now gushy in the wrapper. Joe laughed, and threw it away. “It is OK, Sam gave me a back up in the freezer.”