Blue Hawaii

As she sat at her desk, Bree mused how much alike her clients and her basenjis were. Both seemed to spend their days coming up with one seemingly impossible idea after another. For example, what could be crazier than a BBQ and specialty coffee restaurant? However, Pork and Beans' business was booming. As for her dogs, this morning they had figured out how to open the pantry door somehow. The house seemed too quiet—never a good sign with basenjis—so Bree left her desk to see what the dogs were up to. She found them in the pantry.  Harper was neck deep in a bag of treats gorging herself. Poppi looked up innocently from outside the pantry door, but the crumbs at his feet and bulge in his mouth belied the look. 

Reclosing the door and making sure it was firmly latched, she secretly admired their ingenuity in getting the door open. She couldn’t let them know that or they would start ruling the house, so she told them they were, “Bad dogs,” and shooed them out of the kitchen.

Cupcake Cuties, her latest client, had an almost impossible idea, also, and yet it seemed to be working. The Franco sisters had opened the business last month. Nina and Darcie baked specially-designed cupcakes and hand-delivered them to parties dressed in theme appropriate costumes. Brenda Carter’s family Thanksgiving dinner was the talk of the town thanks in large part to Cupcake Cuties. Nina had worn a Pilgrim costume and Darcie a turkey get-up to deliver the delicious pumpkin cranberry cupcakes with candied ginger icing.

Their most recent job was a Bon Voyage/Anniversary party for Pam and Barb Courtney who were going to be taking a three week Hawaiian vacation. Pam and Bob had dreamed of visiting the islands since their first date in 1961 when they’d seen “Blue Hawaii” at the 422 Drive-In. Their four adult children were going to surprise them at their 50^th anniversary party with an all-expense paid trip.

When Nina called this morning she said they’d been working for two days to perfect a recipe for Blue Hawaii cupcakes. Bree was happy to hear that the ladies’ business was going well, but she was surprised Nina had called to tell her.

“We finally found a cupcake that is just sublime!” Nina said. “The cake part is pineapple and rum and the icing is made with Blue Curacao. Darcie had the brilliant idea of soaking coconut in the Curacao, letting it dry and then sprinkling it on top of the icing, so they look as great as they taste!”

“They sound wonderful,” Bree replied gently pushing away Harper who was batting at the phone in an attempt to get her attention. “I wish I could taste one.”

“Well, you can!” Nina paused and then continued, “I really need your help and I’ll  give you 1/2 dozen of the cupcakes if you can lend me a hand.”

“Do you need me to pick something up for you? I'm working on your flyer right now, but I might be able to help you later today," Bree answered without thinking.

“I’m so glad you won’t be busy later! Because I actually need you to help me deliver not pick up something,” Nina quickly replied.

“Deliver?” Bree answered confusedly as she removed a piece of paper from Poppi's mouth. He'd stolen a design off her desk when she wasn't watching.

“Yes, you see Darcie is sick and you’re about her size . . .” Nina started.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Bree began.

“Don’t say, ‘No,’ please,” Nina pleaded.

 “We promised the Courtney kids we’d come dress up like characters from the movie ‘Blue Hawaii.’”

“I am NOT wearing a bikini,” Bree shouted into the phone causing Poppi to jump away from the desk where he was reaching for another design.

“No, no, I’m going as Elvis’ girlfriend. I’ll be playing the ukulele while you carry in the cupcakes.”

“If you’re going as Elvis’ girlfriend who am I going as?” Bree asked.

“Well, Elvis, of course!” Nina answered excitedly. “We’ve made a platter out of a surf board and you’ll carry the cupcakes in on it as I play the theme from the movie. Won’t that be great?”

Bree was speechless. Nina took the silence for consent. “Thank you so much, Bree! You’ll love the cupcakes!”

“Elvis,” Bree sputtered.

“Well, you could go as the Joan Blackman’s character, but I don’t think you know how to play the ukulele.”

“I don’t,” Bree weakly replied as Harper seized upon her distraction to bat the receiver out of her hand.

“I’ll bring the costume over at 7:00 tonight. Thanks!” she heard as the receiver hit the floor.

At 7:30 Bree found herself in front of a roomful of neighbors and strangers, wearing a jet black wig, fake side burns, a white short-sleeved shirt with matching shorts and balancing 50 Smurf blue cupcakes on a surf board as she attempted to swivel her hips in convincing Elvis fashion. Nina, looking cool as a cucumber in an early 1960’s bikini, strummed away on a ukulele behind her. Bree was sure she would drop the cupcakes but managed to get them safely off the surf board and onto the table with Nina’s help. The table covered with luau food was in the back of the festively decorated room. As soon as she finished laying out the cupcakes, Nina said it was time to go. She started strumming the ukulele and whispered in Bree’s ear, “Time to dance again, Elvis.”

Bree grabbed the nearly 6’ surf board that was leaning on the table and quickly turned around. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Unfortunately she didn’t realize anyone was standing behind her. She heard the “thunk” before she felt it. The offending board blocked her view, so she had no idea who she’d run into in her haste. Then she heard a nasally voice say, “I think my nose is broken.” Jason stood in front of her holding a hand to his bleeding nose.

“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry,” Bree squeaked. “I didn’t see you.”

“I was coming over to say hello!” he replied as the blood kept pouring out of his nose.

“You need to go to the hospital,” Bree said. “Do you have your car here? I’ll drive you.”

Bree got in behind the steering wheel as Jason climbed in the passenger seat. “I really am sorry, you know,” she said.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied and popped in a CD. “Surfing USA” blared from the speakers as Bree hit the gas.

“Wrong singer,” she said.

“Just make sure you leave your surf board in the car when we get to the hospital, Elvis,” he replied with a chuckle. That was when Bree remembered her own clothes were in the Cupcake Cutie van she’d ridden in to the party with Nina.

“Oh, crap!” she said.

After spending two grueling hours in the ER hearing every Elvis joke possible from the waiting patients, Bree was relieved when the doctor determine that Jason’s nose was not broken. The bleeding having stopped, he dropped her off at home and bade her a wistful good night. She was in no mood for visitors.

All she wanted to do was get out of this ridiculous outfit and soak in a nice hot tub as she sampled one of the cupcakes Nina had left on her counter as payment. She opened the front door to find a trail of blue paw prints on her living room carpet. An empty Cupcake Cuties box lay in the middle of the floor, and two very content basenjis raised their heads off the sofa to gaze at her with innocent deep brown eyes. Unfortunately the blue noses and muzzles under those eyes couldn’t lie as easily.

Bree sighed, picked up the empty box and drew herself a bath.

You Knock Me Off My Feet, Baby!

Bree looked out the window at the snow which had fallen onto the grass in her small back yard. She figured there was almost a foot on the ground. Her neighbor's German Shepherd Benito was running around in his yard barking noisily as he chased snowball Mr. Gato threw for him.  The barking is what had drawn her from her desk to the window in the first place.

She'd been working on a flyer for Cupcake Cuties for the past two hours and was surprised to see that the snow had stopped. While Bree admitted to herself that the neighbor's snow covered Arborvitae and oak tree looked beautiful adorned with their blankets of white, she was no fan of snow. Harper and Poppi  were not fond of the snow either. As Basenjis, small hunting dogs originally from Africa, they would rather spend the winter lying next to a fireplace and dreaming of their homeland than face the white stuff.

Opening the side door Bree called, “Come on, Harper. Come on, Poppi! Time to go out!” Neither moved from their place on rug in front of the hearth.  “Okay, cowards, I’ll shovel a pathway for you, but then you are going out—like it or not,” she grumbled. Harper opened an eye to look disdainfully in her direction. Poppi continued to snore.

Bree grabbed her thick blue jacket and fuzzy black gloves. She slipped her favorite boots over her wool socks. They were leather with fake fur pompoms on the end of the laces and trim on the top. The matching faux fur hat went on over her long tightly curled black hair. Grabbing the shovel from the side porch, she started shoveling a path from the bottom step to the end of the fence line before clearing the sidewalk. The snow was heavy and each time she tossed a shovel full of it out of the way, an inch or more would stick to the bottom. By the time she was finished, her hands had gotten cold and wet through the gloves from trying to scrap off the layers of icy white, she’d slipped twice on the slick ground and she was cursing winter in general and snow in specific.

She stomped her boots on the concrete porch to knock off the snow coating the bottom of them, shook out her hat and went inside to get the dogs. “Time to go out, you two!” she yelled. “Let’s go!” she said staring down the dogs from across the room. Finally Harper got up. She was always the most obedient. Poppi was younger and more hard-headed about some things, but Bree glared at him until he too got up and went out the door.

She stood at the door encouraging them to “go potty.” Despite the path she had cleared, no amount of cajoling would get the dogs off the porch and into the lawn. Knowing the dogs had no shame about peeing on the carpet in the winter, Bree decided she would have to walk them. She saw that most of the neighbors had shoveled their sidewalks although packed snow stuck in many places.

Dogs’ leashes and sweaters in hand and plastic bags in her pocket, she closed the door behind her before the dogs could get back in the house. “Okay, you two, we’re going on a walk,” she told the shivering Basenjis as she put their fleece sweaters over their heads. “Time to get your precious little feet cold.”

Once the leashes were securely hooked on, she opened the front gate and stepped through with the dogs. She caught a glimpse of her Jason’s patrol car rounding the corner down the block. She hadn’t seen much of him since their disastrous date at Casinetti’s where she’d fallen off her heels and into the restaurant’s fountain.

Her mind wandering back to that night, she determinedly took off in the opposite direction with the dogs. She was directly in front of her neighbor’s house when two rabbits dashed up across the yard.  Both dogs bolted after the rabbits which unfortunately took off in two separate directions upon seeing the dogs. Bree held onto their leashes and tried to pull them back to her side, but her boots lost their grip on the packed snow under her feet. The dogs’ dash toward the rabbits dragged her around until she totally lost her footing and landed on her jean clad bottom in a snow pile.

Poppi continued to pull hoping to get a bite of rabbit for breakfast, but faithful Harper came rushing to her side to see if she was hurt. “You knock me off my feet,  baby,” Bree said giddily as she looked up into her concerned dark brown eyes.

“I’m glad to hear you admit that,” came from the other side of the snow pile where Jason was standing in his uniform and heavy police jacket. His car was parked behind him. “I’ve got two tickets to the annual Policemen’s Ball  at the station. Let’s make it a date. Maybe you should wear flats though,” he said as he reached out to help her up.

First Date

I was staring at my computer screen trying to think up a logo for my new client, Cupcake Cuties, when the door bell rang.  Harper and Poppi didn’t make a sound but ran to the living room and jumped on the back of the sofa so they could look out the window at the front porch.   

They eagerly started wagging their donut tails, so I suspected it was my good friend Belinda. It was quite a surprise to open the door, therefore, and find Jason Krepsky on the other side. He held his police cap in his hand and he had a bad case of hat hair. I couldn’t help smiling when I saw it. He always looked so clean cut and meticulous in his police uniform. It was good to see he wasn’t perfect.

He saw my smile and smiled back. “Um, I came to apologize,” he said. “You were obviously upset yesterday, and I laughed at you. Let me buy you dinner to make it up to you.”

“Dinner?” I gaped. 

“Um, you like pizza, right? We could just pop over to Casinetti’s and grab a bite when I get off duty if you’re not busy.” He twisted the cap in his hand. 

“Okay,” I answered when I’d recovered from my astonishment. “Maybe we could go to Cupcake Cuties afterwards if you don’t mind. I’m working on a logo for them and could use some inspiration.”

The radio in his patrol car squawked. “Sounds good! I’ve got to go, but I’ll pick you up at 6:30.”

I spent the rest of the afternoon designing and discarding ideas for my new client. The basenjis moved from one sunspot to another in my office as I irritably cursed my lack of progress.

Belinda called once and I was happy for the interruption.  At 6:30 Jason arrived to pick me up.  Three disastrous hours later, Belinda called again.  

“How did it go with Jason?” she greeted me. 

“Red, red wine,

High, high heels,

Blue, blue, bruises,” I warbled into the phone. 

“Did you just sing a really bad version of a UB40 song when I asked you how your date went?” Belinda demanded. 

“It wasn’t really a date,” I replied skipping over my oldest friend’s critique of my singing. “We only went out to Casinetti’s for pizza.”

“And red, red wine apparently. Isn’t that usually called a date?” Belinda sighed. “I cannot believe you messed up your first date with Jason.” 

“Again—not really a date,” I feebly protested. “And I wouldn’t have messed it up if I hadn’t let you convince me to wear those damn heels!” Belinda was a petite red-head who never left her house without high heels. Sometimes I secretly believed she even wore them in the shower.

“If it wasn’t a date why were you wearing high heels?” she reasoned.   

“Because you convinced me that heels would make me look thinner. That’s why I was wearing the heels!” I squarely put the blame back on Belinda. At 5’6” I didn’t need the heels for height, but I’m self-conscious about the twenty pounds I’m trying to lose. “I probably did look thinner but only because I was horizontal!” 

“You and Jason got horizontal?” Belinda shrieked! “Tell me all about it!” 

“Jason did not get horizontal! Only I did when I fell off the heels leaving the restaurant!” Now it was my turn to sigh as I heard Belinda’s giggle.

“How much wine did you have anyway?” Belinda stopped giggling long enough to ask. 

“Just a couple of glasses and I would have been fine but . . .” I started to whine. 

“Yeah, but for the heels which are entirely my fault. I know, I know. How bad was it?” Belinda tried to sound sympathetic. 

“You know that ugly little fountain Joey brought back from Italy last summer and insisted on putting in lobby?” I asked.

“The one with the centaur and whatever the heck those half naked creatures are supposed to be? That thing is an affront to art everywhere!” Belinda, who had attended The Art Institute of New York, abhorred the fountain.

 

“Yeah, well, it’s not affronting anyone anymore. I broke an arm off one of the nymphs when I fell into it and neutered the centaur when I tried to get up,” I replied nearly giggling myself. 

“So compared to your last date with Wilson the Whiner,” my best friend started. 

“It wasn’t so too bad,” we both finished.

 

Chapter 4: Things Get Nuttier

The next morning I got back to work on a job I’d been struggling with for two days.  It was from Wee Weeders, a local lawn care company run by Candice and Meg  Ryan.  The two sisters were Little People who kept their tongues planted firmly in cheek while building the top lawn care business in the county.  In fact, their slogan, “Let your big weeds be our little problem!” was on signs gracing many a well-manicured lawn in my own neighborhood.  Mr. Gato’s German Shepherd Benito never had to lift his leg on a dandelion thanks to Wee Weeders.

 Speaking of Benito, his barking was the only reason I was awake and working at 6:00 AM. My two dogs, Harper and Poppi, being Basenjis, never bark during the night. And let’s face it, six o’clock IS “during the night.” The ladies at Wee Weeders wanted a fresh design for the new signs they would debut this summer.

Before I could begin working, Harper entered my office with a gracefulness I could only envy not emulate. She reached her front legs and neck forward, dipped her back and stretched her sleek brindle body all the way to the end of her curly tail. Poppi, on the other hand, fairly bounced into the room. He swatted Harper’s face with his front paw as he passed, immediately assuming play bow position. Harper and I have one important thing in common—neither of us are morning people! She growled, and Poppi’s wrinkled face looked quizzically at her as he took two quick jumps backward and dove into play position again, barooing at his best friend. The basenji baroo never ceases to enchant me, but Harper seemed immune this morning. She growled again.

In an effort to keep peace, I called, “Walk time!”  and within minutes we were at the park. Ringed by sidewalks, it is the perfect dog walking spot. We just started our second lap around when I heard a crashing sound in the tree above us. Before I could look up a juvenile squirrel with half of its tail missing FELL out of the tree, landed on my head, slid inside my loose shirt and clawed its way down my back and left leg before making a terrified escape onto the ground.

My fearless Harper--who was on my left tried--to climb up my legs to catch the squirrel as it scampered down. Brave Poppi--who was on the right-- did his best to defend "his girls" by circling and lunging at the squirrel. All of his efforts might have been more effective if he hadn't been on my right while the squirrel was doing its death spiral done my left leg.

In the amount of time it took me to scream like a girl, I had two dogs' leashes tightly wrapped around my body. Feeling like my poor father must have the time I convinced him we had to do the sack race at his Memorial Day company picnic, I swayed side-to-side and nearly toppled over.  I was practically hyperventilating from the shock of the squirrel’s claws on my back and the dogs flailing around my legs when . . .

“Oh, my goodness, I’m going down!” I thought as flashing lights danced before my eyes. Unfortunately, those lights weren’t the ones that usually herald unconsciousness.  They were those that herald the arrival of something worse—Officer Krepsky.  Jason’s brisk, “Ma’am, you know you aren’t allowed to walk dogs in the park, don’t you?” snapped me out of it.

“Walk?” I shrieked! “Walk? Can’t you see I’m barely standing?” He took Poppi’s leash out of my hand and untwisted him as he cheerfully asked, “Oh, is this one of your new fitness exercises then?  I thought you would wait for me to come over before you started your calisthenics today.”

“You’re not coming over,” I sputtered thinking it was a shame I didn’t have sharp little claws like the squirrel. “You just said that was just for Belinda’s benefit, right?” The idea of exercising with Jason was appalling! I hated exercising.

Before he could answer another appalling thought hit me.   What if the squirrel had had the mange and maybe now I did, too?  What if those sharp pricks I felt hadn’t been scratches but bites? I could feel the squirrel's marks on my back even as I disentangled myself from Harper.  “Oh my god!” I gasped.  Jason stopped petting Poppi and quickly looked up at me.

 

“Hey, are you hurt? I can call an ambulance.”

“I’m not hurt. I have Rabies!” I whimpered twirling around.  In a frenzy I grabbed my shirt and pulled it up over my shoulders while craning my neck in an attempt to see my back.

“Look! Am I bit? Did that stupid squirrel bite me? “

“I am looking.” Jason replied in a startled voice.

“Well?”

“Ah, well what?”  He muttered.

“Am I bit?” I demanded as I turned to look at him.

“No, but maybe I should take you in for flashing!” His eyes were a bit glazed.

Flushing a deep red, I tugged my shirt down and glared.  “Why are you out bothering innocent people walking their dogs instead of protecting the public from vicious animals?” I demanded. “I was attacked right here in the park and you did nothing!”

“You were not attacked. A baby squirrel fell on you.  What did you want me to do, shoot it?” he chuckled.

“At least we’d know if it had Rabies if you had!” I babbled as I checked Harper for marks and found none.  “He must think I’m an idiot,” I thought, wanting to hide under the sidewalk.

“You don’t have Rabies!” he nearly shouted with an exasperated sign . Poppi jumped back startled, and he reached down to soothe him.

“May I have my dog back, please? Unless you plan on arresting me and throwing him in the pound for trespassing in the park, “I growled at Jason.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bree,” he replied. “I’m not throwing Poppi ‘in the pound,’ as you so eloquently put it although I should give you a ticket for having them both in the park.” In the face of my glare, he merely handed over the leash.

 “I’m going home to put antibiotic cream on these scratches. You can go do what you want. Good-bye!” I said spinning on my heel.  He shook his head as I stumped off. “

“You weren’t in the park,” I murmured to Harper and Poppi as we made our way home. “Everyone knows sidewalks don’t count. And they are on the edge of the park, not in the park anyway. Why does he keep showing up all the time anyway? I don’t need this after what Paul just pulled!” I sputtered to the dogs.  Paul was my last boyfriend—he who normally remains nameless! Harper ignored me as she sniffed an old lollipop wrapper.  Poppi gazed at me with adoring eyes, but he had just looked at Officer Krepsky the same way so I know longer trusted him.

When I got home I fumbled around putting ointment on the scratches, made sure the dogs had plenty of water and put their blanket out in the fenced-in yard. I tried to find a spot that didn’t have many dandelions so I didn’t have to worry about them getting stung by bees. However, the lawn was as covered with yellow as a Van Gogh original.

One good thing that had come of my encounter with the police this morning was that I finally had an idea for Wee Weeders. I grabbed my markers and went to work. I would have to send the draft to Candice and Megan before I started on the official signs, but knowing their senses of humor, I thought they would love it. I had sketched a cartoon of the diminutive dynamos in police uniforms brandishing weed whackers like bully clubs. They were both force marching a handcuffed, towering dandelion across a pristine lawn.  Their logo, “Let your big weeds be our little problem!” floated over their heads.  If only it were as easy to solve my problems. I had a feeling Jason wasn’t going to be as easy to pluck out of my life as a dandelion would be. A small part of me even dared to ask if I wanted him to be.

Chapter 4: Due next week

I apologize that Chapter 4 will not be posted until next week. I was at a writing conference all weekend and didn't have a chance to write. Have an enjoyable week, everyone!
LeeBeth

Chapter 3: Jewels of Denial

After a blissfully uneventful walk, I laid an old quilt out on the side porch for the Basenjis to lie on. While they were busy snoozing in the sun, I went into the living room, sat at my office desk and began working on the graphic layout of a flyer for a brand new unicycle club forming in the Indiana County area.

The purpose of Unicyclers of Northern Indiana County’s (or UNIC’s, as they abbreviated it) flyer was to increase membership. UNICs and increasing numbers didn’t really seem to go together though. Once I pointed this out to the club president, he had to go back to the Board for an emergency vote to change the club’s name. Thankfully, it ended up being Unicycle Riders of Northern Indiana County as I’d suggested. “URNICs” was something I could work with. I designed the theme of the flyer around the motto, “We aRe NICs! R U?” The logo became a man wearing old-fashioned knickers riding an antique, large-wheeled unicycle with the stylized letters of “NICs” forming a road underneath.

The ringing of the phone interrupted me just as I was finishing. My best friend Belinda cheerfully greeted me, "Bree, I'm going to be back from New York tomorrow. I want to try out that new barbecue place in town. Want to meet me there for lunch? I can tell you all about my trip. I had such a great time! The hotel had a wonderful fitness room, and I was able to work out every day so I kept to our fitness plan. Aren't you proud of me? I'm sure you did great, too!"

"Yes," I mumbled. She took that as an answer to her question about meeting up for lunch. To be fair she had only drawn one breath in the entire conversation, so even I wasn't sure which question I was answering. "See you at 12:30 then at Pork and Boings! Gotta go!" "'Beans,' Pork and Beans" I said to the dial tone. Then I spent rest of the day and most of the night working on the flyer.

After a night of designing, I was ready to enjoy lunch with my friend Belinda. She was a vivacious five foot, six inch redhead who I'd known since 5th grade. She owned her own specialty jewelry boutique and often went to NYC to search out the perfect stones for her creations. She was ruthless when it came to bargaining for the lowest possible price for her purchases, and her stories about haggling in Midtown always made me laugh. Maybe I could get her talking about her latest triumph, and she'd forget to ask me about our fitness plan.

The dogs hadn't had much of a walk this morning. Since it was a lovely day and Pork and Beans has a sidewalk dining area, I decided to get downtown early, wear the dogs out with a long walk and then let them sleep under the table as Belinda and I ate. I convinced myself the walk could count as my work-out for the day.

At 12:30 my oldest friend and I were seated at one of the last sidewalk tables available during the lunch hour. In spite of coffee so bad antacids were an actual item on the menu, Pork and Beans had already built up a fairly long list of regulars. "It must be the barbecue," I thought. The ribs on the plates of the couple next to us looked delicious. No, I wouldn't think about ribs. I was going to lose that last 20 pounds. A nice salad it would be for me.

"Mixed salad with dressing on the side, and non-sweetened tea with a slice of lemon,” I determinedly told the perky waitress. "You can put the lemon on the side, too," I joked. The waitress who looked like a borzoi (only existing in two dimensions) did not get my feeble attempt at humor and just shook her head. Belinda, who never seemed to weigh over 135 pounds, blithely ordered the "Pork-Out Ribs," half a rack of North Carolina low country BBQ ribs with coleslaw and a diet cola.

Harper and Poppi were stretched out under the table. Poppi's donut-shaped tail happily wagging as Belinda reached down and stroked his head. Poppi had loved Belinda from the moment he'd met her. Harper was a little more reserved, but got up and walked over to Belinda's side of the table for a quick ear scratch, too, before plopping back down under my feet.

"How was your trip? Did you find any bargains?" I asked Belinda. "Oh yes! Just look at these beauties," she exclaimed as she pulled a small green velvet bag out of her pocket and emptied its dazzling blue contents on the table. "Oh my," I burst out. "They're gorgeous! Are they sapphires?"

"They sure are and they'll be even more gorgeous once they're mounted on the brooch I'm designing for them." She joyfully explained, "I want it in the store for Mother's Day. Did you know sapphires are supposed to be either male or female? The dark blue ones are the female ones while the light blue ones are believed to be the males. I'm going to mount these dark ones in a silver heart design. Don't you think that would make a lovely gift for some lucky woman on Mother's Day?" When she stopped to draw a breath, I agreed that it would. I hoped I'd get to see the finished design before she sold it.

"Should you really be carrying them around though?" I whispered. "Oh, I'm going to put them in the vault back at the store as soon as we're finished with lunch. I couldn't resist showing them to you first though. You'll never believe how much I was able to knock off the selling price!" Belinda answered.

Our food arrived as Belinda animatedly launched into her story of searching all through the Gem District looking for the perfect stones. The couple in front of us paid their bill, pushed back their chairs, knocking into our table, and left the restaurant as Belinda was describing the short, bearded Jewish man who had started off asking 1/3 more than she'd eventually paid for the sapphires.

A bus boy came by to refill our glasses. Harper grabbed a napkin out of his pocket and I squeaked, "No. Drop it!"in embarrassment The embarrassment didn't get any better when a good-looking middle-aged man, who the waitress was escorting past our table, laughed and reached over to pet Harper on the head. "Poor little thing! Did you get in trouble? My Chow likes to lie under my feet with her pink tongue hanging out when I eat, too," he chuckled in a faintly British accent.

I should have been paying more attention to Poppi because the more unobtrusive basenjis become, the more they are plotting some future mischief. However, I was too busy watching the man through the bottom of my water glass. The convex bottom made a perfect telescope until I poured the ice down my blouse.

As soon as he was seated at the table recently vacated by the couple, he put his napkin in his lap and ordered a small specialty coffee. What gracious manners I thought picking ice out of my bra. That’s when Poppi struck.  His paw appeared from below our table and swiped across Belinda's plate, snagging a rib, before disappearing under the table again. Frightened Poppi would choke, I jumped up and rushed toward him screaming, "NO! NO! Drop it!" The other diners all turned to see what the commotion was. I dived under the table on my hands and knees trying to get Poppi to drop the sauce-covered rib. Harper, who never missed an opportunity to aid and abet Poppi, got in my way as she reached for the rib herself. Poppi clenched his teeth tighter and growled at Harper.

A small group leaving the restaurant, not wishing to become part of the fray, backed cautiously away from our table as they passed in the narrow aisle. "Hand me something tasty!" I begged Belinda. She passed me one of her rolls dipped in BBQ sauce, and I waved it under the dogs' noses. "Sit!" I said. They both miraculously sat. I gave Harper a piece of the roll. "Trade!" I said firmly to Poppi. He eyed me warily as I gave Harper another piece of roll and said, "Good sit, Harper!" Jealousy finally won out, and he dropped the rib. I scooped it up and rewarded him with two big bites of the roll and a "Good Trade, Poppi!"

I was covered in sidewalk dirt and my shirt was smeared with BBQ sauce when I crept out from under the table. Several dinners, including the deliciously accented British Guy were chuckling, but my friend Belinda knew my temper well enough to be calling the waitress over for the bill. When she set down the tab, I heard Belinda gasp in horror, "My jewels! They're gone! Someone must have grabbed them during the commotion."

The waitress called the police on her cell. The manager came out and politely asked no one to leave, but Belinda was convinced the culprit had already fled. "It was probably that couple who knocked into our table or the group that passed by as you were wrestling with the dogs! Why did I take my eyes off of them?" she wailed as I put my arms around her and tried to comfort her. I caught the blue of a police uniform out of the corner of my eye and looked up to see Jason Krepsky! He had the nerve to be smiling.

"What are you doing here?" I sputtered. "Someone reported a theft and from the look on Belinda's face, I'd say it was her. She had that same look when I "borrowed" her markers in 7th grade," he calmly replied. "Jason!" she exclaimed. "Someone stole my sapphires." In minute detail she described everything that had happened since we’d arrived at the restaurant. It was then that it hit me. I knew exactly who had the gems. "Jason, I know who has them!" I whispered. "It's the guy in the dark suit! I know it!"

"How do you know it?" he whispered back. "I can't just arrest someone without proof." "Just ask him to stand up," I said. "It's too hard to explain right now.”

As Jason started toward his table, the man in the suit jumped up and tried to run away. As he did the sapphires fell from under the napkin in his lap. Jason grabbed him and asked Belinda to identify the gems. "How did you know?" the man asked me in English no longer British-accented. "Chow's don't have pink tongues! They have black tongues! You made up that story about a Chow sitting under your feet as an excuse to get near our table and to pet Harper. As you leaned over, you must have grabbed the sapphires.” I turned to Belinda, “Anyway, everyone was looking over here while I was under the table so no one would have risked stealing them then."

"You were under the table? That explains a lot," said Jason still smiling as he looked at my BBQ smeared shirt and dirty pants. I made a noise in my throat that sounded a lot like the one Poppi had made when Harper had tried to grab the rib out of his mouth.

"We were lucky that your Basenjis' curly tails reminded him of a Chow! Imagine if you owned a Pekinese!" Belinda jumped in. "At least the walks would be shorter!" I grumbled irritated that Jason hadn't left yet. "Walks! Oh, that reminds me. I worked out every day while I was gone. How is your half of the exercise pact coming along?"

"Ohhh, great!" I replied. She looked at me funny. "I'm not sure I believe you." Like I would lie to a friend. Please. Jason turning to leave with his prisoner, said, "Oh, she's been working out! I can vouch for that. Just yesterday I was helping her do push-ups."

"You were doing push-ups with Bree? Hey, why didn’t you tell me?” she turned to me with a wink. I glared back. “Well, that's great! I'm so glad you have a partner to exercise with when I'm not available, Bree," Belinda refused to acknowledge my glower. "I'll be busy working on the brooch tomorrow and it makes me feel better to know you have someone to work out with. Exercising alone is so boring, isn't it?"

"It sure is!" Jason snickered. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Bree!" he shouted as he loaded his prisoner into the cruiser parked at the curb.

Chapter Two: Fit to Be Tied

Two days into the logo design for Cryer and Chase Marriage Counselors (Slogan: We Listen), and I was ready for counseling.  Ms Amanda Cryer and Mr. Seymour Chase were some of the most difficult clients I'd ever had. Ms Cryer vehemently disliked the first design as soon as Mr. Chase declared his love for it.  He had an instant aversion to the second design after she declared it perfect.  By midnight, I was seriously considering drawing two large ears with a man yelling in one and a woman in the other when commonsense and a desire to have grocery money for this week kicked in and I went to bed instead. 

When I woke up, I immediately looked at the note pad I keep by the bed in case I get creative inspiration during the night. Unfortunately, the pad was empty which meant I hadn't woken up, jotted down a brilliant idea for Cryer and Chase and slipped back to sleep without remembering last night. Just as well as the pen had bite marks on it causing the ink to have dried out. One of the basenjis had obviously been snacking during the night.

And yet now they wanted their kibble and a walk. I drug myself out of bed and shooed them out into the fenced-in backyard while I grabbed their bowls and filled them with premium kibble.  They came charging back in from the yard and jumped in their crates for breakfast as I grabbed my first cup of coffee.  Once they were finished eating, I opened the dogs' crates and loosened the hounds.

Then I remembered that in yet another attempt to lose 20 pounds, I had agreed to work out everyday in addition to walking the dogs if my friend Belinda would, too.  I had somehow forgotten all about that promise while Belinda was away the last 5 days, but she was due back tomorrow, so I'd have to do better now.  I'd exercise today and tomorrow before I saw her, so could look her in the eye when I lied about having worked out everyday while she was gone.

Determined to get going right away, I threw on some cotton shorts, a tee shirt and my old sneakers.  First deep breaths, followed by side twists and basenji boy Poppi gnawing on my shoe laces and then toe touches with basenji girl Harper darting in and out trying to grab my hands each time I reached down.  I was getting more of a work-out than I'd had in mind. 

Still I soldiered on telling myself I'd lose those 20 pounds this time and be happier, healthier, wittier and quite possibly even the wife of Hugh Jackman if I did.  I got down on the floor and started to do push-ups with my knees bent. Harper's velvety red paw started batting my head. On the tenth push-up, I heard an ear-piercing cry. I was surprised because I hadn't thought I'd done that out loud. Then I realized it wasn't me; it was Harper.  Basenjis are bark less, but they are not mute, and Harper seemed adamant about proving that point this morning.  I turned my head to see what the problem was and realized that her paw was stuck in my wildly curly black hair.  While I had inherited my mother's corkscrew curls, I had also inherited my fathers raven black hair.  The combination sounds nice until you realize the curls have a mind of their own, and in the morning the mind usually decided they should look like a prop from a 1940's horror movie. 

One of the nails on Harper's front right paw was ensnared in one of curls that ravelled down to a few inches below my shoulders.  I twisted as far as I could to the left in an effort to reach her stuck paw.  Harper pulled back at my movement and nearly knocked the breath out of me as she yanked tighter on my hair.  Poppi started jumping back and forth over Harper in an attempt to join the "game!"  The screaming continued.  Her paw was so deeply entangled in my curls now that I had no idea how I'd rescue her or my hair although I finally was able to maneuver over and get myself onto my back where I hoped I'd be able to reach her better.  Poppi took the opportunity to jump onto my chest and begin licking my face.  Knowing it was a nervous reaction to Harper's screaming, I still tried to bat him away. 

I couldn't get him to budge so I was shocked when he seemed to levitate off my chest not two seconds later.  I thought I heard a chuckle, but I couldn't see anything because of all the hair in my face. Anyway hearing anything above Harper's caterwauling seemed unlikely, so I continued blindly trying to reach her paw with my hand. I curled into a ball in an effort to shorten the distance between her and my right hand. 

"Need some help?" a male voice gasped out between guffaws.  Now Harper and I made a duet of screams.  Someone was in my house, and my dogs were too busy jumping on me and getting their damn paws stuck in my hair to defend me! 

"Whoa, whoa, don't scream!  It's okay.  It's me--Jason.  You left your door unlocked and when the neighbor, Mr. Gato,  called saying someone was being attacked at your address, I came in to check it out."

"Jason? Attacked?" I stammered as I pushed my hair as far out of my face as I could.  "Yeah, Jason Krepsky from school," he answered.  I could now see the police issue boots and uniformed legs of my old friend who'd become a police officer many years ago and had moved back to the area last year after his marriage had dissolved.  He bent down to offer me a hand. "Don't touch Harper!" I yelled." She might bite when she is this upset."

"How am I supposed to untangle her if I don't touch her?" he asked. He had a point because there was no way I was getting her paw out without his help.  "I have leather gloves we use when we cage feral cats. They're in the squad car," he said before he disappeared from sight. I fought to get into a dignified position before he got back, but that was a little difficult with a 23 pound screaming basenji hanging from my hair. 

Soon he was back, laying the gloves down on the floor and squatting down beside me.  "Just be careful," I said.  "It's okay, Harper. It's okay, girl," I reassured her. "Wow! She's really anchored in there,"  Jason said as he reached over to put the gloves on.  Then he started laughing again.  He was having much more fun than I thought the situation allowed.  I was trying to remember if he'd had a sadistic sense of humor in high school, too.  "I think I may have to arrest your dog," he said.  "He stole one of my gloves." 

Oh, no! Poppi! I'd forgotten about Poppi.  "Poppi! Drop it!" I demanded.  "Trade him something for it if he won't give it to you," I told Jason.  Soon Jason was back on the floor, gently lifting Harper up so he could disentangle her paw.  It took almost ten minutes, and I was reminded in that time that Jason had had a very creative way with swear words back in the day.  Apparently, he'd lost none of his creativity over the years.  Finally though Harper was free and she'd only tried to bite Jason twice. She must like him. 

I stood up  and tried to smooth down my hair before I thanked him.  "I think I that's a lost cause," he laughed as he watched me. He had tears coming out of his eyes from laughing so hard! 

 "Thank you, Officer Krepsky," I stiffly replied.  "I appreciate your help.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get cleaned up from my exercises." 

 "Oh, exercises?  That's what you were doing?  Exercising?" he chuckled some more.

 "Good day, Officer," I retorted as I turned my back on him and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door and leaving him no choice but to see himself out. 

Glancing into the mirror above the sink, I almost shrieked, but I didn't want Jason to rush in to rescue me again. As a matter of fact, I didn't want him to ever see me like this again! I had dog saliva all over my face, my tee shirt was covered with paw marks, and my hair--my hair was clumped up in some spots and sticking straight out like curly spokes in others!  I hopped in the shower before I had to look at myself a moment longer.

I've heard that taking a shower is a good way to stimulate creativity.  It must be true because I came out of the shower with a great idea for the Cryer and Chase account.  I sat down at my computer and designed a logo based on the outlines of two stylized ears coming together to form a heart.  In the middle of the heart was the silhouette of a couple talking and underneath the heart were the words, "Cryer and Chase--We Listen." 

It was perfect for the marriage counselors, and I knew they wouldn't be able to resist it, so I attached my invoice and hit the send button. Then I pulled my hair back with a headband and took the dogs for their walk.  Well, I took them for their walk after I retrieved my sneakers from Poppi. Maybe Jason should have arrested him.