Анна Керн - A Paw-sible Theory

“My parents struggled to make a living, starting with a small grocery store and eventually buying this building twenty-years ago,” said Novie. “My father was the first African-American to buy commercial property outside of the black community they lived in.”

“I understand completely,” replied Alyx. “It took a lot of hard work and sacrifice for Maggie and me to buy our building and make our business a success. Maggie doesn’t really want to sell either, but she thought we should talk about it. Poor Maggie; I feel so strongly about what we’ve accomplished that I’m afraid I got mad at her for even thinking about selling.”

Then Alyx brought up the Merchant’s Association meeting and asked Novie what she thought of the idea of hosting the Annual Arts Festival. Novie thought it was a great idea and, as usual, promised to support Alyx and Maggie when the issue came up at the next meeting. Alyx saw that the restaurant was starting to get busy, so she finished her coffee and they said their good-byes. I got a pat on the head from Novie and some quizzical looks from customers as we left the restaurant.

We returned to the store. The second item on Alyx’s list of things to do was talk to Maggie about having a celebration dinner. Maggie thought it was a great idea, and suggested that they invite David Hunter, as well, and so Alyx did just that.

She phoned Hunter at his office and invited him to dinner the following Friday at the best French restaurant in the area. He said he lived near there and would be happy to meet the group at the restaurant at seven.

Maggie walked in the office just as Alyx was returning the phone to its cradle.

“You’re all flushed. What’s the matter, did someone give you a hard time?”

“Well, no, not exactly. I was just talking to David Hunter, inviting him to dinner Friday, and well, I just got a little flustered, that’s all.”

“Oh, you just got a little flustered, did you now?” teased Maggie.

“I was doing just fine until he said he didn’t have a wife, or a girlfriend,” she laughed. I don’t know if he’s married. I don’t believe he is. At any rate, I don’t remember seeing a wedding band, but I thought I should invite his wife in case he was, and he gave me an ambiguous answer. He said he wasn’t currently living with one. Now, what does that mean?”

“I suppose,” said Maggie with a sly smile, “that it could mean he’s either separated or in the process of getting a divorce, but it could also mean he’s not married.”

Maggie poured a cup of coffee and sat across from Alyx. “That’s a typical lawyer answer, isn’t it? Speaking of married men, has Charvette ever talked to you about a boyfriend?”

“Not in so many words, but judging from some of the things she says, I assume she has been seeing someone.”

“Don’t you find it strange,” posed Maggie, “that he’s never picked her up for lunch, though we know from her actions and what she says, she’s had lunch with him before? And how about those afternoons when she takes off for a couple of hours and comes back positively glowing?”

“I know what you mean,” responded Alyx, scowling. “You don’t suppose she’s seeing a married man, do you?”

“Of course, it’s none of our business as her employers but yes, I think it’s possible, and she doesn’t want us to know who it is.”

”Then it’s probably someone we know. Don’t you think?”

“It could be but it would surprise me; she’s too smart to get involved with a married man,” noted Alyx, then she added, “Anyway, at Charvette’s age, she should know better.”

“You’re right,” agreed Maggie, “but some women never learn, believing the situation is different for them––and sometimes it is.” She said this last with a slight sigh.

Maggie then said she had an appointment, but before she left, she asked Alyx if she had dinner plans.

“No, why?”

“Let’s try that new place down the street. I hear the owner is really good-looking!”

Alyx couldn’t help but smile, “How about the food?”

“Oh, I hear that’s real good too,” she answered, not missing the good-natured dig.

“No, heaven will not ever heaven be; unless my cats are there to welcome me.”

–– Unknown

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: A Blooming Romance

Alyx was sitting in a wing chair by the store’s front door, taking a break while contemplating something. She looked up when a customer walked in, smiled and said, “Take your time looking around, I’ll be right here if you need anything,” and made no move to get up, allowing the customer the freedom to look around at her leisure.

The older woman hesitantly smiled back and moved away, heading directly towards Alyx’s favorite English antique––a late eighteenth century George III, slant-front desk on display in the front window. The inlaid oak desk had a narrow rectangular top above a hinged slant top, opening to a gilt-tooled leather writing surface. A variety of small drawers and pigeonholes flanked a central banded door. It had four long, graduated, and inlay-banded drawers with pierced batwing brasses.

About five minutes later, the woman was still admiring the desk, lovingly running her hands over the surface. Holding on to me, Alyx approached the customer.

“This is my favorite piece, too,” Alyx said, looking at the woman who appeared to be in her early seventies with short, silvery hair and a pink complexion. She spoke in an odd way, somewhat hesitantly. “I used to have a desk like this one in my home. I had to leave it behind when we moved back to America. How did you acquire the desk?”

“I found it at an estate sale,” replied Alyx. “It was my understanding that the woman who owned it had brought it back from Africa.”

For just a moment, the woman’s eyes seemed to glaze over, and then she looked at me.

“He’s a handsome cat, isn’t he? I have a lovely cat at home,” she said, reaching out to scratch my ear.

“What kind is it and what’s his name?” Alyx asked.

“He’s a Siamese and his name is Simon,” she said affectionately. Her gaze went back to the desk. “I probably can’t afford it, but how much is it?”

“We’re asking two thousand five hundred,” answered Alyx, almost apologetically.

“That’s more than I can spend right now. Maybe someday…”

“Is there anything else I can show you?”

“No. I saw that piece in the window and I just wanted to take a closer look. I would like to wander about, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. As you can see, we have many nice things to look at. By the way, my name is Alyx Hille; I’m part owner of the store. Please feel free to come back and visit anytime.”

“Thank you, Alyx, and my name is Althea Burns.”

Other customers had entered the store, and Alyx saw one of them looking around for assistance, so she headed in that direction. When she had an opportunity, she looked around again for Althea and saw that she was gone. Alyx walked over to the desk the woman had been admiring, scratched out the price and wrote “Sold” on the tag. Maggie would understand.

The rest of the day was a busy one. The variety of people I encountered fascinated me. Some ignored me and others put up too much of a fuss, wanting to pet me or hold me. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I hid under the counter. At one point, I came out from behind the counter just in time to see a heavyset man about sixty with dark button eyes peering in the window––it was Dan Ramsey.

Alyx and Maggie didn’t get a chance to speak again until Maggie came back to the store around dinnertime.

“I stopped in at Angelo’s on the River to make reservations for later today but they close at five today,” said Maggie. “The restaurant is fancier than other restaurants on Ocean Street; it actually has starched, white linen tablecloths and real flowers on the tables. Charlie, the owner, looks like the hero on the cover of a lusty romance novel. His voice is as gentle as a breeze. ‘Are you ready to be seated or are you waiting for someone?’ Yikes, Alyx! He’s gorgeous. And when he smiled––he has these perfect white teeth in a perfectly tanned face. I was totally tongue-tied and could barely answer his easy question. He said to be sure and come back another time.”