“Okay,” he said when he noticed I hadn’t moved. “If you have a cat, what is her name?”
“Sassy Cat,” I replied smugly, thinking HA! I guess I won that one.
“Sassy Cat?” Luke repeated looking at me incredulously. “Sassy Cat is not a name, it’s a description. See, I knew it. You don’t have a cat. Let’s go. I’m starving.”
Although I felt the desire to sputter more pieces of words and slap him around a little (whatever would work to make him believe me), I also realized I was pretty hungry now that my stomach was calm. Besides, I’d win this one in the end when Sassy Cat presented her regal little self to Mr. Luke after we got home.
We walked down the street toward the river until we came to a little restaurant with the front door standing open. The chalkboard sign next to the door listed the special as Shrimp and Cheese Grits.
When Luke saw me looking at the sign as we entered, he said, “I take it the special looks good to you?”
“Actually, it looks perfect, but how did you know?” I asked, amazed by his psychic abilities.
“The little drops of drool on the side of your mouth gave you away,” he informed me. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better. I was a little worried you might not find anything that looked good after all the — excitement your stomach went through last night.”
“Oh yeah, that,” I said, not too thrilled that we were on the subject of my embarrassing overindulgence of the night before. “Seriously, I’m fine now.”
As Luke and I opened our menus at the table we’d chosen (the place being one of those informal, seat yourself deals), our waiter walked up.
“What can I bring you to drink, ma’am?”
“Diet soda!” Luke and I practically yelled at the same time. That caused the waiter to look up from his pad he’d been studying.
“O - kay,” he said, never taking his eyes off me, “and you, sir?”
“I’ll have an iced tea,” Luke said, as he watched the waiter watch me.
“Cool,” the waiter responded, “and cool shirt. What kind of dog do you have?”
So that’s why he’d been staring at me – he’d been reading my shirt. Luke, meanwhile, was faking a coughing fit so the waiter guy wouldn’t think he was laughing at him.
“A Staffordshire Bull Terrier,” I blurted. The words were out of my mouth without any thinking involved. It was a knee jerk reaction, and I decided to go with it, so at least Luke would be wrong about me feeling strange for wearing this shirt when I had no dog. Now I’d just feel weird for lying about having a dog.
“Wow,” our young waiter said in awe. “Now that’s a cool dog. Oh, I’ll get your drinks,” he declared and left. Luke was still fake coughing, and the waiter probably realized lack of concern over a customer hacking up a lung might be reflected in his tip.
Once the waiter rushed our drinks over to the table, and Luke was free to speak, he looked into my eyes and said, “Maggie, I’ve learned something very important.”
“What’s that?” I asked looking into his eyes and speaking just as softly as he had.
“To be careful about what I believe if it came out of your mouth.” Luke’s expression changed from serious to grinning in the blink of an eye. “You had the most innocent, sincere look on your face when you let loose that lie.”
“It’s a gift,” I said with a shrug and tried to look humble. “The waiter looked like one of those muscle guys who would find a macho dog to be cool, so I just kind of told him something he wanted to hear. He’s happy. He didn’t tell me I was weird for wearing a shirt that has no meaning to me, so I’m happy. And he asked the question you felt sure someone would ask, so you’re happy. I just happen to like it when everyone’s happy.”
As I enjoyed my shrimp and cheese grits that went down so smoothly, Luke inhaled a huge plate of shrimp, french fries, and hush puppies. Once we finished, we decided we should probably walk around a while to burn off some of Luke’s shrimp extravaganza.
We turned the corner about a block past the restaurant and nearly tripped over a furball the size of a bowling ball. When we both stopped short, I grabbed Luke’s arm to avoid toppling over, and Luke grabbed the signpost to keep us upright.
On clearer inspection, it was apparent the furball was attached to a leash, which was attached to nothing else. The furball wasn’t moving, but it appeared to be sniffing the signpost. I’m only guessing about the sniffing since I didn’t actually see a nose, but I did hear snorting sounds.
“Penelope!” a distressed, elderly woman wailed as she charged up the street toward us. “Penelope! Somebody grab that leash!”
Being the knight in shining armor type, Luke had already bent down to get the furball’s (I mean Penelope’s) leash by the time I realized Penelope was a wanted escapee.
“Oh, Penelope,” the woman gasped, out of breath partly from her race up the street and partly due to the fact that she was about 104 years old. “Penelope, Mommy has told you about running off like that. What would we have done,” she paused to look Luke over from head to toe, “if this nice, hunky young man – oh my, but you’re a healthy one, aren’t you? Now what was I saying? Oh, yes, Penelope, if this fine young man hadn’t been here to save you, what would you have done?”
“No problem, ma’am,” Luke assured her, handing her Penelope’s leash.
“Penelope is a prize winning Pekingese, and I would have been beside myself if anything happened to her,” Penelope’s owner gushed. “I guess you understand what I mean. What breed is your dog, dear?”
Although I hadn’t noticed her take her eyes off Luke, apparently she had, at least long enough to read my shirt. The way she looked at me so expectantly, I really didn’t want to disappoint.
“She’s a Whoodle,” I answered quickly. “You know, half Wheaton Terrier and half Poodle.”
“Oh, well,” our ancient Penelope owner stammered. “I’m sure she’s lovely. Thanks for your help with Penelope, and you two have a lovely day.”
As Penelope and her owner made their way down the street, I noticed it was Luke who stood frozen with his mouth agape this time.
“What?” I said flatly.
“You just made that up didn’t you?” he asked looking more than a little surprised.
“I did not,” I responded, indignant once again. “Well, yes, I did make it up about having a dog, but a Whoodle is an actual mixed breed dog.”
Luke stood and stared at me for another minute before shaking his head slowly from side to side and asking, “Where are you getting this stuff? Staffordshire Bull Terrier is a kind of dog, yes, but it doesn’t normally come immediately to mind when you think dog. Then Whoodle? Who thinks of Whoodle?”
Okay, I’ll allow his confusion.
“Here’s the deal,” I began. “CeCe and I considered getting a dog for a while, but we couldn’t agree on the kind. So I did some research into the different types to try to find one we could both be happy with. That’s how I learned about the different breeds of dogs. For the record, I don’t usually lie at home. Seriously, I don’t know if there’s some kind of voodoo curse on me here in the French Quarter or what, but I don’t normally go around lying all the time. It seems like every time I open my mouth here, another one pops out. It’s bizarre.”
“So what happened?” Luke wanted to know. I noticed that he looked a little skeptical. “Why didn’t you end up with a dog?”
I hesitated, trying to come up with a good lie, because I knew he wasn’t going to believe me if I told him the truth. See. Voodoo curse or something, right? Now when I really needed it no fabrication came to mind, so I was forced to go with the honesty thing.
“If you must know, our cat has socialization issues. We decided the trauma of introducing her to a new pet sibling would be detrimental to her and inevitably our wellbeing,” I replied and then held my breath as I waited for his response.
Luke never took his eyes off me and slowly the smile resurfaced on his lips. “You don’t have a cat,” he said
so softly I almost didn’t hear him.
I started walking in the direction we’d originally been heading, and after a second, Luke caught up with me.
“You tire me. You know that, right?” I asked unable to keep the edges of my mouth from turning into a smile, even though I fought it as hard as I could. “You’re just lucky the more mature women find you so hunky and healthy, wasn’t that what Penelope’s mommy called you? Maybe you should start hanging around with Penelope’s mommy or Ms. Beulah? Apparently they see something in you that I’ve missed.”
“Careful, ma’am, or I might get the idea you’re a little jealous,” Luke cautioned. “Sure, I’m used to the ladies finding me to be stud-like, and yes, most of those women are similar to Penelope’s mom and are probably a little high from popping all those estrogen pills. The simple truth is even with your youth and firmness-without-the-aid-of-support-hose aside, you can’t really compete with a woman who wants to shower me with gifts she spent her entire social security check buying for me, now can you?”
I was looking at Luke, laughing, and shaking my head, when he threw his arm in front of me, which stopped our forward motion. A small dog sat directly in front of us in the middle of the sidewalk, gazing up at us with bulging, puppy-dog eyes. Unlike Penelope, this dog was neither a furball, nor was he attached to any type of restraint. He wore a plain black collar that matched his black eyes and black nose. Otherwise, his coloring was solid fawn, which allowed you to see his pink skin through his short, little hair. Short and little would have been great words to describe his entire appearance, if not for his ears. His tiny head looked like it had two satellite dishes on top, but they were satellite dishes with points.
“Whoa, little guy,” I said after studying those ears for a minute. “You probably shouldn’t sit in the middle of the sidewalk like that. You’re gonna get stepped on.”
“Okay, Maggie,” Luke challenged as we stood and studied the little dog, who sat and studied us. “Since you’re our dog expert, what exactly is that? I was going to guess Chihuahua, but what’s up with those ears?”
“Shhhh, Luke,” I whispered, “or you’ll hurt his feelings. Of course he’s a Chihuahua and a very handsome one at that.” I raised my voice at the end of my statement to make sure he heard the compliment. I didn’t want Luke’s comment about his ears to wreak havoc with his self-esteem.
“Oh, sure, sure. He’s a good looking dog, but I’m not convinced he’s a Chihuahua,” Luke suggested, still staring at the dog. “Don’t you find he’s a little, uh, robust for a Chihuahua?”
“Healthy, Luke,” I corrected once again trying to spare the little guys feelings. “He’s healthy looking.”
“Yeah, okay,” Luke agreed, though he didn’t sound convinced. “If you say so.”
The dog still hadn’t moved, or even looked away from staring up at our faces. We both sort of mumbled “excuse us” and stepped around him to continue down the sidewalk.
CHAPTER 15
After we covered a few more blocks, Luke found a shop that interested him. “Look,” he pointed to a sign that said PALM READINGS. He grabbed my arm and pulled me in that direction, while he asked, “Do you want to check it out? It might be fun.”
“Why not – oh, wait a minute. Is this Ms. Beulah’s daughter?” I asked, stopping his forward motion by planting my feet firmly on the pavement.
“What?” Luke looked confused for a minute before he remembered Ms. Beulah’s push to have him meet her daughter. “No, Ms. Beulah’s daughter is a psychic, not a palm reader,” Luke explained.
“Well, okay, if you’re sure,” I agreed and we walked into the tiny storefront.
“Welcome, welcome!” greeted a lady I couldn’t see, since my eyes had not yet adjusted to the dim lighting inside the shop from the bright sunlight outside. “Such a beautiful couple! And what can I do for you this afternoon?”
Luke, whose eyes obviously adjusted faster than mine, led me in the direction of the voice as he greeted her. “Hello. We’re interested in having our palms read. Do you take walk-ins, or do you need . . . . ”
“Of course, come, you are welcome to experience your reading now.” Palm Lady reached out, took my hand, and led me to the comfortable chairs she had positioned in the corner. “I will start with your lovely wife, yes?” she asked, her slight accent becoming more pronounced as she grew more excited.
“Sure,” Luke responded as I shook my head no. Before I had time to open my mouth, he continued, “That will be great.”
Luke took the seat next to mine and watched as my hand was placed on the table that stood between the Palm Lady and me.
“Now let me see,” Palm Lady began, “what the future holds for such a beautiful young, ahhh, a bride. I am seeing you at your wedding. You were lovely. This young man you have chosen is everything you ever imagined in a husband. That is why you are so happy together. Not that it matters here and now,” she said as an aside to Luke, “but you looked incredibly handsome in your tuxedo.”
Luke raised his eyebrows and smirked at me in a “how about that?” gesture.
Palm Lady didn’t notice, since she was back to looking at my palm intently. “It’s odd, but I usually see things more clearly when they are in the past. Your information is obvious, but cloudy. You — whhh!,” she gasped.
“What?” Luke and I practically yelled at the same time.
“This is amazing. Such wonderful news! You two are blessed. Your beautiful little family is about to include another!” Palm Lady announced, barely able to contain her excitement.
“Another what?” I asked.
“Why an addition, of course! I can’t see if it will be a boy or a girl, but it will be soon. If you have not been to your doctor recently, please promise me you’ll go. You will receive the exciting news and know I speak the truth. This tiny bundle of joy will bring many smiles to your happy home.”
Luke and I looked at each other. I blushed. He laughed.
Palm Lady apparently mistook his laughter as happiness over the blessed event instead of amusement at the absurdity of the situation – since pregnancy was a biological impossibility for us at that moment.
“See, your husband, he is thrilled. You should both enjoy this exciting news together.” Palm Lady took one look at my face and turned to Luke. “Once she is over the shock, you will see. She will be overjoyed along with you.”
“Now young man, it is your turn to see what else lies in store for your young family,” she exclaimed, turning all her attention to Luke.
“Oh-ho, no,” Luke chuckled, jumping up from his seat and reaching for his wallet. “I think that little glimpse into the future is about all we can handle for one day.” He settled up, paying what we owed her, and we walked outside into the bright sunlight again.
“Wow, that was kind of out there, wouldn’t you say?” Luke began, while we stood on the sidewalk waiting for our eyes to adjust to the light. “Good thing we don’t really believe all that stuff, or I guess we’d be a little freaked out about now.”
“Good thing,” I agreed. When I realized that was my first comment since Palm Lady’s reading I decided I should probably say something else – if only to indicate I found the whole idea just as absurd as he did.
“Really – out there,” I stammered.
“Maggie, are you okay? It’s not really like you to have so little to say,” Luke looked so concerned, I felt bad that I hadn’t joined him in seeing the humor in the situation. Truth was, I saw the humor, and I found it ridiculous and hilarious – it just caught me off guard.
“No, no I’m fine,” I assured Luke with a smile. “I think I might just need to put something else in my stomach. As you pointed out earlier, it did have a lot going on last night.”
“You name it, you got it. What sounds good?” Luke asked and couldn’t help adding, “You’re eating for two, you know, so you should keep up your strength.”
I had to laugh at that. “I could really go for some nice, warm beignets. Does that
sound okay to you? We’re only a couple of blocks from the Café.”
It’s sacrilege to be in the French Quarter and not visit the Café Du Monde at least once. Whenever I’m down here, I usually try to stop in at least once a day.
“Great,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”
A few streets over, as we neared the end of the block, I noticed a tan colored bundle plopped down in the middle of the sidewalk ahead. When we got a little closer, I decided fawn was a better description than tan, since it was our bug-eyed, pointy-eared friend we’d run into earlier.
“Well, hello again, little guy,” I said as I stopped in front of the Chihuahua. “You really get around, don’t you?” I turned to Luke and said, “This is several blocks from where we saw him earlier, right?”
“Yeah,” Luke answered looking around. “I’d be worried he followed us and got lost, except that he keeps turning up in front of us instead of behind. There’s no tag on his collar, but I guess he lives somewhere around here. And why does he sit there and stare at us like that?”
We were standing in front of a gift shop, debating the situation, when a teenage girl came out of the shop and walked up to us. “Oh good,” she cried, looking from the dog to us. “You found him. He’s been sitting out here for a while now, and I was hoping his people would catch up with him.”
“Sorry, but he’s not our dog,” Luke explained, looking as if he felt bad for having to disappoint the girl.
“Are you serious?” the teen asked with a look of disbelief on her face. “I mean, he’s been sitting here looking around, ignoring everyone who tried to speak to him, until you two arrived.” She stood there and contemplated the dog for a moment before she added suspiciously, “He sure looks like he knows you.”
“We ran into him earlier several blocks from here, so maybe he remembers us,” I offered as an explanation, because she was right. He looked at us and only us as if he’d been waiting for us. It was kind of freaky.
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