NOT What I Was Expecting (21 page)

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.

“Have you seen him
around here before today?” Luke asked the girl.  “I’m thinking he lives around
here somewhere.  Those are pretty short legs he’s got there, so I’m hoping he
didn’t come too far.”

“I’ve worked here
for over a year.  My friends and I hang out around here all the time, but I’ve
never seen that little face before,” she assured us, pointing at the dog.

“Well,” I began,
feeling bad about what I was about to say.  “I guess somebody will pick him up
and give him a good home, if he really doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“He’s got to
belong to somebody,” Luke stated confidently.  “I mean, look at him.  Does he
look like he’s missed any meals lately?”

While the three of
us stood there staring at the dog, I noticed he looked from me to Luke and back
to me again.  I never saw him cast a glance or even acknowledge the gift shop
teen.

“Maybe we should
walk him back over to the first place we ran into him?” I suggested
half-heartedly.

“He’s not a
puppy,” Luke interjected.  “A dog his age probably knows how to get home to his
dinner.  We need to go put something else in your stomach before it has a
chance to get upset with you.”  Luke turned to the teenager as we started to leave
and said, “You should take him home if you want.  You could always put up
fliers if you think someone’s looking for him.”

“Oh, no,” she said
as she shook her head and walked back into the gift shop.  “He seems pretty
interested in you two, so I think he’s made up his mind about who he’s going
home with.”

I glanced back
over my shoulder as we walked away, heading toward beignets and coffee with
chicory.  The little guy just sat there and stared at us, but he didn’t follow.

Luke saw me glance
back, so he leaned down and said softly, “He’ll be fine.  I don’t care what she
said, my money is on that girl picking him up and taking him home with her.”

We walked the rest
of the way in silence and took in the sights, both surroundings and people. 
The street performers kept us entertained until we reached the Café.

After we placed
our order, we sat and talked quietly at one of the sidewalk tables while we
waited for the fresh beignets to finish cooking.

When the waiter
arrived at our table with beignets and coffee, he unloaded our stuff silently
until his tray was empty, then he announced, “Here’s your order and some extra
napkins.  Can I get you anything else?  Maybe some water for your dog?”

Luke and I both
stopped doctoring our coffee and looked at the waiter.  We followed the
direction of his focus to the sidewalk under our table and found ourselves
looking at the same Chihuahua that had been stalking us earlier.

“Little dude,”
Luke said as he reached down to pet our stalker.  “Did we ask you to come
with?”  He scooped up the dog with one hand while he stirred his coffee with
the other.  “What’s your deal?” he asked eye to eye with the bug-eyed creature.

The dog blinked
slowly, thrust his head toward Luke’s face, and made a swimming motion with his
paws.  Luke, caught off guard, didn’t react in time and was slimed by a long,
pink tongue covered in dog spit.  Having learned from his mistake, Luke
reassessed holding the Chihuahua so close to his face and lowered our stalker
into his lap.

“Yeah, water would
be good,” Luke said to the waiter before he returned his attention to the dog. 
Once in Luke’s lap, the little guy made a half turn, gave a small jump, kicked
all four feet out, landed on his side, and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Uhm, nap time?” I
asked, trying not to laugh, since Luke looked kind of confused as to what to do
about his new admirer.

“Oh, no, La
Cucaracha!  No nap time!”  Although his words said he was throwing the dog out
of his lap, his hand that wasn’t holding his coffee cup was petting the little
golf-ball size head.

“He’s had a rough
day with all the sidewalk sitting and stealth stalking.  I’m sure it must have
exhausted him, trying to keep up with you without being seen.  Let him rest,” I
suggested.

“Here,” Luke said,
shoving the fawn blob into my lap before I knew what happened.  “He can nap
with his new mommy.”

Now Luke was
smiling.  “Hey, that’s right.  Your palm said you were about to get a bundle of
joy, so there you go.  He’s it.”  Luke laughed, because apparently he cracked
himself up.  “This is great.  She was talking about this.”  Luke reached over,
scratched the dog’s head, and asked, “Isn’t this an incredible break?”

“I thought we
agreed we didn’t believe that palm reading stuff anyway,” I pointed out.  “So
why do you care?”

“Well, Fry did
tell me you thought I was, uh, how can I put this gently.  He said that you
found me . . . ,” Luke paused to try to think of the word he wanted to use, and
I took that opportunity to pounce.

“Okay, hold it
right there.  First of all, you’re delusional, and we already knew that about
Fry.  Secondly, if you’re implying the Palm Lady’s prediction was the only
obstacle keeping us from, uh, from whatever you were thinking is going to
happen, you have not been paying attention.  Do I need to remind you she’s so
talented she knew every detail about our nonexistent wedding?  So if you’re
making any assumptions based on her predictions, I’d rethink that, Slick.”

“So what are you
saying, Maggie?” Luke asked, in a soft, sensuous voice that would have been
completely unfair if he had ever been playing by the rules in the first place,
which he had not.  “Does that mean you no longer find me
swoon-worthy
?”

“See, that is
exactly what I’m talking about!” I responded, a little louder and a little more
pitiful than I intended.  “Fry completely misquoted what he thought he heard,
so you have this misguided impression of what I said, and you are entirely wrong. 
What I said was that I thought you were
trustworthy
, not
swoon-worthy
,
and I said it to CeCe which was overheard by Fry, so it was hearsay and totally
inadmissible in a court of law.  I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, because
I didn’t want to make you feel bad by saying you aren’t swoon-worthy, but then
you had to go and tire me, and you aren’t a bad person, but you SO TIRE ME, and
why are you smiling at me like that when I’m ranting at you?  Did you even hear
anything I just said?” I demanded.

  “Yeah, I’m
listening,” Luke said casually before he took a drink of his coffee.  After
acknowledging the excellence of his coffee and chicory with a smile and a nod,
he said, “You want to know the other thing Fry told me about you, besides the
fact that you called me swoon-worthy, or trustworthy, or whatever you want to
say.  It doesn’t really matter at this point, since we’ve already established
that you lie in the French Quarter, so I can’t believe anything you say
anyway.  The thing Fry told me to watch out for, though – and this is what he
said is the sure fire way to tell if Maggie’s really interested in you or not. 
He said there’ll be some out of nowhere ranting that apparently her
subconscious throws out there to keep her from getting closer to someone she
really wants to get closer to anyway.”  As Luke spoke, he leaned in near me so
that by the time he was finished his face was only inches from my face.