Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [7]
“You up to these po’boys, Kitty. How’s your throat?”
“Never mind my throat. Tell me about the hunk.”
Josie told her. “See for yourself. Rosie wants nothing to do with me. She wouldn’t even touch the Beanie Baby. All she wants is that damn big dog and, what’s worse, he wants her. How is that possible, Kitty, since they’ve both been fixed?”
“Ummnn. Beats me. Before I forget, a package came while you were out. It’s in the hall under the table.”
Josie unwrapped the po’boys and set them on what her mother called her day dishes—plain, heavy white china with a large, succulent strawberry in the middle. There were only four left in the entire set, aside from two cups and two soup bowls. The matching napkins were old and faded, but neither girl was willing to part with them.
It was a cheerful kitchen, with wraparound windows and a cozy breakfast nook. Perfect for morning coffee, newspaper reading, and bird-watching. The Hansel and Gretel cottage and the ladybug walkway were clearly visible from each window, something that brought a smile to each young woman’s face no matter what time of day.
Kitty poured the sweet tea from her great-grandmother’s crystal pitcher.
“Who’s the package from?” Josie asked as she bit into her po’boy.
“Gourmet Party. Probably more copies of their magazine. Maybe it’s a hint that we should subscribe. We should, you know. The publicity that centerfold gave us is invaluable. Maybe they want us to hand them out to our customers. It felt kind of light, though.”
“Okay, I’ll take out a subscription. Any phone calls?”
“Not a one. Seems like everyone goes underground on Monday. Too much partying on Bourbon Street over the weekend. So, get the box and open it already. Let’s see what they sent us. If it is magazines, you can give one to Mrs. Lobelia when she comes over.”
Josie walked into the hallway, looking over her shoulder to see if Rosie would follow her. Her heart thumped in her chest when the little dog stayed under the kitchen table. She picked up the box. Kitty was right: It was light. She was curious now. Her sandwich could wait.
Kitty watched as Josie slit the top of the packing box with a sharp knife. She dug down into the bubble wrap and pulled out a stuffed animal. “It’s a boxer! What in the world?”
“Now I know where I saw the hunk!” Kitty cried. “He’s in the same magazine we were in but he’s in the back end of it. When we first got it, I was like you. I just read our own article and chortled a bit. Then one day, I was leafing through it, and there he was. It isn’t nearly as grand as the one they did on us. That dog you’re holding is his. The same one who ran amuck on the cottage. What does the note say? Hurry up, read it.”
The Maltese came out from under the table and yipped her pleasure at the sight of the huge stuffed animal. “Would you look at that,” Josie whispered to her sister. The little dog used her snout to topple the animal until it fell over. She bit down on one of the pointed ears and dragged it to her bed at the far side of the kitchen. She tilted her head to the side to see what her mistress thought of the situation. Josie clapped her hands and said, “Good girl, Rosie.”
“I was starting to worry about her. Do you think they sent the boxer to us by mistake and ours went to . . . him?”
“I’d say that’s a logical assumption. What does the card say?”
“Just that they enjoyed working with us and they wanted to send this small gift as a token of their appreciation. One of their employees makes stuffed animals. That’s all it says.”
“Wow! What do you think he’ll say when he gets ours? Do you think he’ll bring it back? You could call the magazine and get his address. They’ll give it to you when you tell them about the mistake.”
“I will do no such thing. I’m not taking that away from Rosie. Look at her—she loves it. Where’s the magazine? I want to see what it says about him.”
“I thought you weren’t interested.”
“I’m not. I just want to read it.”
“You’re going to have to wait. I hear a car, so that must mean Mrs. Lobelia is here. Mrs.