NOT What I Was Expecting

by Tallulah Anne Scott

  As I pointed my car in the direction of the Big and Blessed Maternity Shop, I tried not to think about the encounter with Luke and the sorry excuse for an impression I’d just made.

  CHAPTER 3

  I parked in front of the shop, and lectured myself on acting like a grown up when I entered. My fear was that I would spot CeCe and immediately start to whine about what an idiot I had just made of myself. If I thought about the embarrassment and how I’d probably ruined any chance of getting to know this new Luke a little better, there was even a chance some moisture would form in the corners of my eyes – just as it did now when my thoughts drifted.

  This is bullsh — crap. I tried to keep the potty mouth to a minimum (even in my head) since I needed to be prepared for Swear Bear to appear and throw down at any time.

  How could I be this attracted to some former stoner I knew nothing about? Why should I care if he thinks I’m an idiot? I shouldn’t.

  When I opened the door to enter the Big and Blessed shop, I stopped and stood in the doorway while I stared at the half naked lady racing through the store. Clad only in her bra and a skirt, she was stopping at each rack, yanking a shirt off its hanger, stuffing her arms in the sleeves, smoothing down the front, and then ripping it off and tossing it behind her yelling, “yes”, then “no”, then again with the “yes.” All this time, CeCe was hovering behind her juggling the discards in one hand and the affirmatives in the other, trying to keep up with Tornado Lady.

  “Could you please close the door? I’m feeling a draft.”

  The request came from Tornado Lady, but she never slowed down, stopped trying on tops, or even looked toward the door when she asked.

  “Oh sure. Sorry.” I turned around to glance behind me as I entered and closed the door, hoping no passerby was noticing the whirlwind of flesh flying around our shop.

  “Um, there are dressing rooms in the back if you would like to . . . ,” I started to suggest.

  “No time. Gotta get back to work,” Tornado Lady responded.

  As I glanced at CeCe, I saw the duh – ya think? expression cross her face. I realized that she had probably already tried a similar suggestion. I was about to offer to relieve CeCe of either the no or the yes pile when Tornado Lady changed direction and headed for the register.

  “That’s it for now,” Tornado Lady explained. “How many tops do I have? I’ll have to run back in later for more skirts and slacks.”

  Did she say more skirts and slacks? My eyebrows did the questioning thing in CeCe’s direction, but she gave me the don’t ask slight shake of the head.

  CeCe answered, “That’s eleven tops. I’ll add these to your eight skirts and six pants before I run your American Express.” CeCe was tallying and entering everything into the register while I started folding and bagging. Tornado Lady slipped on her shirt which she had left with her purse at the counter. As she got the last of her blouse buttoned and tucked into her skirt, I finished bagging, and CeCe ripped the receipt from the register. Tornado Lady signed, slipped her purse onto her shoulder, retrieved her keys from her purse, snatched the bags off the counter, and flew out the door yelling, “Thanks. I’ll be back but gotta get to court now.”

  While CeCe took a few deep breaths, I said, “Let me guess. She was arrested for indecent exposure?”

  “She’s an attorney,” CeCe corrected. “Said she woke up this morning and found her clothes were uncomfortably tight, unlike yesterday when they still fit fine. She was planning to hit the maternity scene this weekend, but junior apparently had a growth spurt overnight and changed her plans. You should have been here for the romp around the shop in her blouse and panties. That’s how we tried on the skirts and pants. So that’s pretty much how the customers have been running this morning. How did things go with Aunt Pearl?”

  I know CeCe’s morning should have made me feel my morning wasn’t so bad, but I was still feeling the sting of having humiliated myself in front of a gorgeous guy. Just as I was about to pour my heart out, two women came through the door and answered “yes” when asked if we could help them find something.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said quietly to CeCe. “But I promise you this. I will never again belittle you for your words or actions when you are around Ben.”

  “Deputy Ben,” CeCe automatically corrected as we walked toward our customers, “and now I can’t wait to hear. That must have been some trip with your mother.”

  After assisting the steady stream of customers who came and went, CeCe and I were more than ready to eat when Fry strolled in to cover us for lunch. The big smile on his face when he came through the door put me on high alert and made me dread what he would say about our encounter at the Build-N-Fix-It earlier.

  “Morning, CeCe. Hello again Maaaaggie,” he greeted, and the longer it took him to say my name, the wider his smile grew. Yup, I think this situation calls for dread and maybe a preemptive strike.

  “Hey, Fry. CeCe, did I tell you I ran into Fry and a friend of his at the Build-N-Fix-It this morning? I barely remember it since I was in such a fog at the time. Now Fry knows why I should never give up caffeine,” I half-chuckled as I spoke. “I go without it one morning, and I can hardly function.”

  CeCe looked a little lost. “You saw Fry this morning? Who was the friend? What do you mean you went without caffeine? I could have sworn I saw you drinking coff . . . .”

  “Oh, Fry’s friend was a guy we knew in high school. Luke. You remember Luke? Fry mentioned him yesterday. He used to hang out with Fry in school? Anyway, he moved away after high school, but now he’s back in town to take care of his uncle. Isn’t that what you said, Fry? He’s going to be taking care of his uncle? Isn’t that nice? I think it’s so sweet when the younger generation takes care of their older relatives. Just like older relatives took care of the younger generation when they were – you know, younger. Don’t you agree? Man, I am starving. Are you ready for lunch CeCe? Can we bring you back anything, Fry?” I rambled.

  No one said anything for about 10 seconds. I could tell CeCe was trying to figure out what was going on, and Fry was looking very smug – as if I had just confirmed something he already suspected. I may have mentioned earlier that Fry has some deficiencies in the thought process department. It’s also true that he has this idiot savant quality when it comes to reading people where their emotions are concerned. It’s uncanny, a little eerie and at the moment, a pain in the butt!

  “Since you’re starving, you go ahead and go to lunch. We’ll have a nice chat when you come back. Okay?” Fry asked as innocently as he could manage.

  I scooped up our purses, grabbed CeCe’s arm, and headed for the car. “C’mon, I’ll drive. I feel like tacos today. How about you? Tacos sound good?”

  CeCe was still trying to grasp exactly what was going on but allowed me to usher her as far as the car door without protest. That was the end of the line.

  “I’ll go quietly on one condition,” CeCe negotiated. “You have to spill, and I mean everything. That includes an explanation for that smirk on Fry’s face.”

  “Of course, CeCe,” I assured her. “I was going to tell you, but the shop was so busy, and I didn’t want to start and not get to finish. Then customers just kept coming and coming, which normally I’m glad to see, but today, not so much.”

  Once in the car, we shot over to Casa Del Taco. It’s close to the shop, inexpensive, and delicious. What more can you ask for in life? After we loaded our trays with tacos, tostados, quesadillas, and diet sodas, we grabbed a booth and went to town Mexican style. Between bites I went into detail about my trip to the Build-N-Fix-It. I related the conversation I overheard between Fry and Great Voice Guy, my attempt to get a look at him, and the embarrassing impression I made. Then I poured out my heart-felt apology for not being more sympathetic and supportive when CeCe was pining away for Ben, or feeling bad about saying stupid stuff in his presence. We both vowed we would work on chilling our image where gorgeous guys were concerned. Unfortunately, we weren�
�t sure how to go about it. After we finished our lunch and refilled our drinks, we headed back to the shop. CeCe graciously allowed that I should tell Fry as much or as little as I wanted about my interest in his friend Luke.

  As we entered the shop, Fry was bagging a purchase for the customer at the register.

  “And I feel silly trying to rush it, but I honestly don’t think I’ll make it waiting a few more months to start showing. I want the world to know I’m pregnant.” This came from the customer waiting for Fry to hand her the bag. Her jeans fit her nicely and appeared to be a size zero.

  “Well, Brittany, I think you’re well on your way to letting the world know you’re expecting,” Fry confided. “It’s true you still have a while before you’ll be showing since you are only two weeks along, but I think wearing the ‘Bundle Below’ t-shirt you bought will give the world a hint. Now you take care and come back to see us when you find you’re starting to fit into these clothes and your other stuff is too tight, okay?”

  We all said bye to Brittany as she bounced out of the shop.

  “Did you have a nice lunch?” When I looked up from stashing my purse, I saw Fry had punctuated that question with a repeat appearance of his earlier smirk.

  “Yes, we did,” I answered all perky, ignoring the smirk. “We went to Casa Del Taco. You like them, don’t you? We could have brought you something, but you didn’t seem interested. They have the best tacos and quesadillas. You like their stuff right? You’re probably getting hungry with all this talk about tacos. Why don’t I run down the street, and get you some. It seems silly for you to be sitting here hungry when they’re so close. It’ll only take a minute. How many would you like?”

  “Damn, woman. You seem to have found some of those words you were unable to locate earlier when you were talking, and I use that term loosely, to my friend Luke,” Fry chuckled as he spoke.

  CeCe came tearing out of the office in the back, yelling, “Swear Bear! Swear Bear!”

  “Sure, sure, whatever,” Fry said, reaching into his pocket for change. “Now cut the taco sh...crap, and tell me what’s what.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied innocently. “There’s nothing to tell, really. Mother and I were there to pick up a faucet and light fixtures. I told you she was renovating her bathroom, didn’t I? I tried to tell her it would be better to get someone to install them for her, but you know how my mother can be. She’s insisting she is capable . . . . ”

  “Actually, I was more interested in your reaction to Luke,” Fry interrupted. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so flustered. I guess he is easy on the peepers, but you really have it bad, don’t you?”

  “Look, I had just had the wind knocked out of me. Literally. I don’t have anything for or against Luke,” I said casually. “I don’t even know anything about the guy. Where was he all those years anyway – in jail?”

  “Noooo,” Fry said eyeing me suspiciously. His voice took on a quality of softness and patience, like you would use with a child to make them understand something. “He did a few years in the Marines. I think that might have been court mandated, but when he got out, he joined the Peace Corps. Didn’t I mention this already?” Fry’s smirk had returned, but he removed it when he saw me giving him the evil eye. “He spent the last six years in various locations in South America and Africa working with the Peace Corps, and just as the last gig ended, he came home to visit his Uncle Barney. That’s when he discovered his uncle was beginning to have some problems with dementia. Barney, his dad’s brother, and Luke have been pretty close since Luke’s parents died when he was eighteen. So he decided to move here so he could look after Barney and make sure he is taken care of. Luke is the only relative Barney has left, but he would have done it anyway, ‘cause he’s crazy about the old guy. Luke is self-employed and some sort of construction wizard. Seems he did a lot of that in the Peace Corps and picked up some expertise. He’s been back in town about three months, and he is seriously in demand.”

  “Really?” CeCe inquired. “What’s he working on now?”

  Although the question was asked casually, I shot CeCe a look to let her know I was watching her exchange. My scrunched eyebrow was code to let her know it would be best not to divulge my interest in Luke since I know where she lives and the time she will be sleeping.

  “He got the contract to do the library expansion,” Fry replied. “He’s hired a crew and everything. Big businessman, you know? Yeah, he’s really straightened out, and he’s going places. I’m just saying, in case either of you are interested in him as relationship material. He’s a great guy.”

  Although Fry technically answered CeCe’s inquiry, he watched me the entire time he responded to her question. I also noted the wattage of his smile increased the longer he spoke. I’m thinking my calm, cool, and aloof demeanor fooled no one.

  “I just remembered we were supposed to stop by the sheriff’s office to ask a favor for the sisters,” I said looking around for my purse, my keys, a tissue . . . anywhere but directly at Fry, who seemed to be trying to get a read on me. “Can you cover us for a while? We won’t be gone more than an hour. Let’s go, CeCe.”

  CeCe and I walked nonchalantly through the main entrance of the library. Yes, we were on our way to the sheriff’s office to get neighborhood watch information for the sisters. Then CeCe had this brilliant idea to stop by the library so she could get a visual on Luke. She said her curiosity was killing her, and it seemed like a good idea a few moments ago when we were still in the car. Now that we were physically on the premises, CeCe’s fun idea of stopping to sneak a look at Luke while he was working was a little panic inducing. There was a soft ding as we stepped through the second set of sliding glass doors that gave me the sudden urge to bolt right back outside.

  I knew I had the right to be here. I had a library card. My problem was that I knew the real reason I was here, and it made me feel about 14 years old and very jumpy. I looked at CeCe to see if she was feeling it too. She flashed me an excited conspiratorial smile. When she gets that look on her face things never go well. This was a big mistake. My head said get out before you humiliate yourself — again. My heart said just one little peek-a-loo won’t hurt. To be completely honest, it could be another part of my anatomy that wanted to get a peek, but that’s too embarrassing to contemplate, so I’ll go with heart.

  CeCe grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into nonfiction. “Okay,” she said in an excited whisper. “The addition is on the second floor, so we have to figure out how to get up there.”

  “No, we do not,” I whispered back. “I thought you just wanted to take a little look, not run into him. No, no. Too obvious. I’ll feel like an obvious idiot if he sees me here, so you have to get on with it and then we can get out of here. And by the way, you’re enjoying this way too much.”

  “Of course,” CeCe whispered. “This is just like when we were kids, and I wanted to get a look at Mike Mendelson. Remember? So fun.”

  “That’s the problem CeCe. We were kids, and now we’re adults and should be ashamed to do this. How pathetic does this make me?” I whisper whined.

  “Oh, lighten up,” CeCe insisted. “It’ll be fun and besides, I can’t wait to get a look at the guy that flipped your switch with one bump. No offense Maggie, but you can be a hard case. You’re so picky you won’t give really great guys a shot with you. Remember that well-off, good-looking dentist? You wouldn’t even give him a chance.” CeCe gave me the hands-on-hips, you-know-it’s-true look.

  “It was nothing personal,” I explained patiently. “He smelled like a dentist’s office. Yuck. Brings up bad memories.”

  “You’ve never even had a cavity,” CeCe pointed out eyeing me through slits.

  “That’s not the point. Smelling him every day would make me think of hearing that drill in the next room. Not my idea of a good time,” I said as I tried to keep my lip from curling at the thought.

  “So what did Luke smell like?” CeCe ask
ed smiling and moving close, like we weren’t already whispering.

  “He smelled like, uh,” I struggled with finding words to describe it. How do you describe a smell you can’t remember, when everything you can remember about the experience leaves you feeling the warm and fuzzies (which is no small compliment when the experience left you deposited on your derriere). That’s not a smell. “— like something that I can’t describe, because I don’t know what it smelled like, but it was really good.”

  I could see the wheels turning in CeCe’s brain as she tried to get what I was telling her. Long pause. “That helps me not at all,” she said finally as she gave up.

  “I know. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to describe it.” Reliving that encounter had me back on board with trying to take a small innocent little look at him from a distance. No big deal. “Okay. Let’s do this,” I said.

  CeCe made the motion of clapping her hands together real fast, although they never touched. “I’ll do some recon,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I’ll just casually walk over to the children’s section under the balcony. That’ll give me half the length of the library to spot anything interesting up there. Wish me luck.” She zoomed out of the aisle before I could say anything.

  “Do not stare,” I whispered loudly after her, although I knew it would do no good. I watched her as she strolled so slowly and casually towards the children’s books that anybody could see she was casing the place. Unfortunately, there was also the fact that checking out the balcony meant looking up while you’re walking.

  “CeCe! Look out!” I whisper shouted, but she was too far away to hear.

  Wham! She slammed into a tall metal garbage can. They both toppled over onto the floor. For a minute it looked as if they were wrestling with each other, but since the trash can wouldn’t fight back, I suspected CeCe would win – eventually. Thank goodness she wore her navy pants today. A skirt would have been much worse, and I should know. CeCe finally struggled to her feet and gave the garbage receptacle a light kick. She glanced back at me and gave me a small nod, as if to say things were well in hand.