“Sassy Cat, pretty kitty,” I said in a sing-song voice as I headed for the door. “See the bad nasty can. Bad can!” I held it out to her as I opened the door, then ceremoniously threw it out the front door and slammed it shut. “Bad can,” I said one more time for emphasis.
Sassy Cat stopped shredding the pillow, rubbed her body against the back of the sofa, and stretched out to take a little nap.
“How could I have been so careless?” CeCe lamented.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. You can make it right by cleaning up the bathroom,” I suggested.
“I’ll clean the bathroom if you’ll throw some kind of snack together. I know we ate and then had bonbons, but comforting the grieving takes a lot out of you,” CeCe pointed out. “No junk. I want something nutritious like nachos or dip,” she ordered.
“Deal,” I agreed. I whipped up a quick pan of nachos and poured the diet drinks while CeCe cleaned. We settled down on the sofa with our plates and drinks once CeCe located the TV remote.
“No Magnum, P.I. tonight,” I said. I liked the 80's shows almost as much as CeCe, but when you’ve seen the good ones over and over, you need something fresh.
“Oh, come on,” said CeCe.
“Just flip around and see what else is on, please?” I asked earnestly, and maybe a little whiny.
“All right, let’s see what the idiot box has for us tonight,” CeCe said smiling. I looked down at my plate and tried to make sure there was enough cheese on the chip while CeCe flipped the channels.
Suddenly, I heard some kind of squeak and gurgle noise coming from the other side of the sofa. I looked over at CeCe, afraid she was choking.
She managed to swallow what was in her mouth and started yelling, “Deputy Ben! Deputy Ben!”
I looked up at the TV, and sure enough it was him.
“Wow, he looks so handsome and so important, doesn’t he?” CeCe said as she bounced and squealed at the same time.
“Stop squealing,” I ordered. “I can’t hear what he’s saying.”
We listened in silence until the end of his announcement. We muted the TV but still sat in silence for a while.
“I can’t believe it,” I said, stunned.
“I know,” CeCe agreed. “My future husband was on TV, and I didn’t get to record it. Do you think someone will put it on YouTube?”
“CeCe, snap out of it,” I insisted. “Did you hear what he just said? Our mothers’ friend Eliza didn’t just die, she was murdered. She was strangled in her own home.” All of a sudden I started taking a mental inventory of all the locks on the doors and windows of the sisters’ house. I was pretty sure they all worked.
“You’re right,” CeCe said as she returned to reality. “It’s just that the image of Deputy Ben on TV was so overwhelming. Sorry. That’s really scary, huh?”
“They haven’t caught the killer yet. That’s what scares me,” I mumbled to myself, as much as CeCe.
“You don’t think we should be worried, do you? About anyone, I mean?” CeCe asked using her calm voice, but I could see the worry in her eyes.
“They don’t live in Eliza’s neighborhood, so probably not,” I said encouragingly.
“You’re worried anyway,” CeCe observed. “Me too.”
“Do you think they heard the . . . .”
Before I could finish my sentence, the phone rang. We both jumped, but I got there first, so I answered it.
“Hi, Mother,” I greeted her. “Yes, we heard.” I listened while Pearl shared her concerns about the criminal element taking over our fair town. “I know,” I agreed since it’s just easier. “I know,” I agreed again, in case she didn’t hear me the first time. “Neighborhood watch? That’s a good idea,” I agreed, because it was a very good idea. “Uh-huh, it really was quite a shock.” This was going to be one of those marathon phone conversations, so I sipped my diet soda in order to stay hydrated.
Tuesday morning, CeCe went off to open the shop while I headed for the Build-N-Fix-It. I had agreed to meet my mother and shop for the new faucet and light fixtures for her bathroom renovations, so I was ready to get on with it. Don’t misunderstand, because I love my mother and was genuinely touched that she wanted my opinion. She has spent years polishing her skills as a strong, independent single mother. I had no delusions that my suggestions for fixtures would carry any more weight than last night’s suggestions for the renovation.
I caught up with Mother just as she was entering the huge automatic double door entrance to the Build-N-Fix-It, and we agreed to start with the plumbing section first. As Mother and I stood and pondered the faucets, I heard a familiar voice. Fry was speaking to someone as they entered the plumbing supplies one aisle over from us.
“Man, you have got to lighten up,” Fry advised whoever. “The negativity oozing from you is bringing me down. It doesn’t agree with this tie-wearing thing you have going on. Why is it that you’re all decked out, anyway?”
“Remember, I told you I had to meet with the expansion committee from the library board this morning, and this stop was on my way home to change,” some smooth, deep voice I didn’t recognize answered. “I appreciate that you’re grabbing a cup of coffee with me before I head to the job site, but I have to pick up a few things here before we do that. Sorry, if I’m sounding negative,” Great Voice Guy added with a slight chuckle. “I really don’t know what to do about Uncle Barney. I mean, I’ve known for a while now that he has good days and bad days. Sometimes he’s talking like his old self, but other times making sense of what he’s saying is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle blindfolded. When you heard him talking about his accountant the other day it wasn’t nearly as bad as yesterday when he came back from one of his lady-admirers, and he . . . .”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Fry interrupted. “You know I love Barney. The guy’s a kick, but he’s like 143 years old, isn’t he? Are you telling me has more than one hottie admirer after him? Sweet.”
“Uh, I don’t think they would be considered hotties unless they still have hot flashes,” Great Voice Guy pointed out. “These women are in their 70's and 80's. Barney’s 83, but tells everyone he’s only 71. And whatever you do, Fry, please don’t tell him you thought he was 143 years old. He doesn’t even weigh 143. Maybe soaking wet but . . . ”
“Women chasing you in the home stretch of this big race we call life,” marveled Fry. “Dude, that’s a reason to live long and prosper. He’s livin’ the dream, man.”
“Okay, he’s a stud. Now can I tell you what happened yesterday?” In spite of his words, the tone used by Great Voice Guy made it obvious he knew Fry relatively well, and was a calm, patient person who was very warm and wonderful, with a great respect for women, children, and animals. The fact that he had an incredibly sexy voice had not influenced my opinion at all.
“Sure, sorry man,” Fry apologized. “I got sidetracked imagining my future love life – it’s got to be better than the here and now. Go. I’m with you now.”
“So he came home all upset,” Great Voice Guy began. “Well, you saw him the other day when he was talking about how he met with his accountant Andy Griffith in Mayberry. Yesterday afternoon was worse. I don’t know if he mentioned it to you last night, but you should have seen him at lunch. He came in so upset I could barely understand him. I gave him some coffee – decaf – which seemed to help him calm down enough to tell me what happened. This time it was the Cartwrights from Bonanza at a lady friend’s house. I asked him where he’d been, and what was this lady friend’s name? He said he went over to Monday’s house, because it was Monday. His special ladies each have their own designated day of the week to feed him whatever they baked and coffee. He went to her house at the usual time and rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. He thought something must have come up, or she forgot to tell him she wouldn’t be home, so no big deal and he started to leave. Then he said he decided to check her kitchen door in the back, just to make sure she didn’t have the TV turned up and didn’t hear the door
bell. When he got to the patio, he saw her through the kitchen window sitting at the table with the Bonanza guys. He said Hoss was eating the cake she supposedly baked for Uncle Barney. Once he was calm and going into more detail, he explained that he saw only two of the Bonanza brothers, Hoss and Little Joe, because the other Bonanza guys weren’t there. He knew she didn’t answer the door because they were having his coffee and his cake at his usual time, so he was upset. He said he didn’t even knock on the back door – he just turned around and left.
“He’s getting more stressed about any deviation from his routine as he has more periods of confusion,” Great Voice Guy continued. “I’m thinking Ms. Monday just forgot, so it shouldn’t have been a big deal. His reaction has me worried about letting him continue to go out on his own. I mean, he doesn’t drive, and everyone in the neighborhood knows him, so going down the street and the few blocks over that he walks has been working. I don’t want him to feel he’s losing even more of his independence, but I have to think of his safety.”
“Man, why didn’t Uncle B just knock on the door and see what was what?” Fry asked. “I guess I would have been upset if I saw Hoss and Little Joe in ma-lady’s kitchen. I mean, I would have been all ‘Hey dudes, where’s your Pa?’ You know I love that show, but Ben Cartwright is my favorite. I’ve got the DVD box set. But why didn’t he just knock and inquire if Pa Ben would be joining them later?”
“Fry, you do realize the actors who played Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe are all dead, right?” Great Voice Guy asked carefully. By the slight gasp, I decided most likely Fry had not, in fact, realized the Cartwrights were no longer with us. Fry had many talents, but logical thinking was not counted among them.
“Luke, uh, look man, I’ll be right back. I have something in my eye. Damn ragweed,” Fry said quietly, followed by shuffling footsteps.
Luke! That’s who the deep, sexy voice belongs to? Stoner Luke from high school? That’s right. Fry said something yesterday about Luke’s uncle. I scanned my brain trying to remember if Luke had that great voice in high school. The fact that I couldn’t remember convinced me he definitely did not. Fortunately, Mother left for the light fixtures a few minutes earlier and told me to join her when I was finished eavesdropping. Since I heard Fry move in the opposite direction, I leaned toward the edge of the row to get a glimpse of former Stoner Luke who had apparently transformed into Great Voice Guy.
Just as my head was almost close enough to peer around the corner, BAM! I felt as if a rock-hard wall had slammed into me. I was knocked on my keister and my A-line skirt scrunched up, barely reaching the top of my legs. I tried to simultaneously blink away the lights that flashed behind my eyeballs, pull my skirt back down to PG-13 length, and attempt to stand. The degree of difficulty for a triple coordination play like the one I just described takes years of practice to pull off successfully. I’m afraid I wasn’t having any luck on this particular day, and I’ve had tons of practice. Please don’t try this at home.
I concentrated on clearing my focus by staring at what I’d run into. Turned out it was a rock hard body instead of a wall. It was making apologetic noises and extending a hand to help me stand. When I was able to zoom in on the face, I realized it was the Luke-guy, a.k.a. Stoner Luke from high school. What had Fry said about him yesterday – that he had been in the Peace Corps? The same incredibly smokin’ brown eyes that were regularly glazed over back in high school were now clear, focused, and full of concern. Top that off with the broad shoulders that filled out a navy blue shirt tucked into form fitting khaki pants, and you have an idea of the hunk (I mean guy) I was facing.
“I’m sorry! My mind must be somewhere else, because I didn’t see you until – are you okay?” Luke wanted to know.
While my focus was still swimming toward the light, I enjoyed the deep voice as two, no three sets of those beautiful brown eyes towered above me. Wow, one voice with three heads – interesting. At that moment Fry rounded the corner, apparently having heard the body slam.
“Maggie, are you all right? Come on.” Fry took my arm that was not currently in Luke’s possession. “We’ve got you,” he assured me.
Once I was on my feet, I tried to tell them I was fine but couldn’t think of any words – I mean NOTHING. As I stood there with my mouth slightly open but not yet having located any verbal skills, Fry made the introductions.
“You remember Maggie from high school, don’t you?” Fry asked and moved on without waiting for an answer. “She’s also one of my bosses. Remember, I told you I was working at that shop, right?” he asked Luke while staring at me, probably trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with me. “And Maggie, you probably don’t recognize my bud here, but this is Luke. I know. I was floored when I saw him too. He cleans up pretty good, huh?”
All the time Fry was talking he was watching me closely. I got the impression he was trying to figure out if I suffered brain damage from the collision. I tried not to stare at Luke. He was so tall and gorgeous I didn’t think that was a reasonable expectation. I don’t like to set myself up for failure. He had soft-looking brown hair, tanned skin, and unbelievable bone structure. All of his flaws must be internal.
“Luke moved away for a while, but now he’s back to look after his Uncle Barney,” Fry went on, since I still had no response. “Can you believe this is the same guy?”
Even though Fry had just said his name more than once, and I had been thinking about his name, along with his voice in my mind, the only thing I could think to call him at that moment was Great Voice Guy. Since that obviously was not his name, I decided to respond without addressing him at all.
“Seeing you is – it’s good you – the seeing you is good,” I stammered.
Okay, now I wished I hadn’t located any verbal skills if they were going to operate so lame. To make matters worse, he had mastered an easy, comfortable smile.
“Of course I remember Maggie from high school,” Luke said, all charming and acting like talking was easy. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been what, over 10 years, and you look even better than you did in school. What have you been up to besides aging well?”
Oh no, a question! I tried to control my breathing, stop sweating, and look relaxed. Able to accomplish none of those, CeCe suddenly flashed into my mind, and I knew God was hoping I’d learn a lesson for all the times I told her she was ridiculous for being tongue-tied around Deputy Ben. I should have been more understanding. I should have been more supportive. We should have practiced speaking normally when faced with an over-abundance of testosterone. Why didn’t I, even once, try to feel her pain and help her through the mind numbing influx of hormones that plagued her (and now me)? I was a little afraid to open my mouth and experience a repeat performance of my earlier brain/tongue attempt at cooperation.
“I’m a terrible friend!” I blurted.
There, I did it. I opened my mouth, and a coherent sentence came out. True, it made no sense in the present circumstance or to the people to whom it was spoken. However, I considered it a personal triumph that I formed an actual sentence and not gibberish. Baby steps.
Luke looked at me the way you would look at a baby who just gurgled sounds, thought they made words and was waiting for someone to respond. He gave me a slight smile that indicated he was thinking I wish I understood you, but it’s okay. He nodded his head in an encouraging way.
“I hope I didn’t – uh, hurt you when I ran into you,” Luke said carefully.
Abort! Abort! I instructed myself to smile, say I was fine, and get out of there before I did more conversing and managed to convince him I was mentally disabled. Fry had been on the floor gathering the contents of my purse that had flown wild and free on impact.
As he stood and handed me my purse, I said very slowly (to keep the words in their proper place), “I’m fine. I have to go.” I headed for the light fixtures to find my mother as fast as my wobbly legs would carry me.
Before I made it out of earshot, I heard Fry tell Luke, “I don’
t know what to tell you, man. A woman of few words is not how anyone would ever describe Maggie.”
As I put some distance between myself and the new improved Luke, I felt my breathing return to normal. Unfortunately, as my mind cleared and thought processes returned, I became aware of the impression I had just made on him. I also realized how much that fact bothered me.
I, like CeCe, had nobody in my life starring as the love interest. I hadn’t even been attracted to anyone for a while – until now. After my pitiful display as a conversationalist, I decided to convince myself that Luke probably wouldn’t be as impressive as he looked once I got to know him. Sure, he cleans up nice on the outside, but that doesn’t mean there is anything going on inside.
When I located my mother, I was relieved to see she had her light fixture already picked out and was ready to take it, along with her faucet and shower head, to check out. She asked me what I thought of the light fixture she selected, and I told her it was gorgeous, which it was. Then she asked if I wanted to look at anything else before we checked out.
“No, no, no!” I answered a little more quickly and forcefully than I intended. I was anxious to put some distance between myself and my humiliation aura. “There is nothing I need, and I really should be getting to the shop.”
“Of course,” Mother said. “Thanks so much for helping me pick out the new fixtures. They’re going to look so good in my bathroom once the renovations are complete. I know you’re busy, but you have such good taste. I’m glad you helped me make my selections.”
My mother smiled as she thanked me for my help, so I smiled back knowing we do this every time she makes a purchase and doesn’t take any of my suggestions. She insisted that she wouldn’t make the best decision without my input. It used to aggravate me. I’ve come to realize that things go smoother if we shop, I share my opinions, she buys what she came intending to buy, and I accept her thanks for my help.
“You’re welcome, Mother. You know I’m always available for you when you need me. I think we got some great stuff today.” After she checked out and I helped load her purchases into the car, she pulled out of the parking lot smiling and waving.
NOT What I Was Expecting Page 3