Read Catch of the Day for Free Online Page B

my desire to be home, fasting and watching TV, grows. “Some people do that, yes. But I have a more specialized talent, Maggie. I communicate with animals who have passed.”
    “Wow. That’s so… Gee.”
    He must see the disbelief on my face, because he sits forward suddenly, staring at me intently. “Did you ever have a pet when you were a kid, Maggie?” he asks.
    “Yes, we did,” I answer. “A nice—”
    “Don’t tell me!” I jump, startled. “Sorry,” he amends. “Just think of this pet. Picture him…or her …remember him…or her …and all the good times you had with him.”
    “Or her,” I add.
    “Whatever. Just picture.”
    A tickle of laughter wriggles in my stomach. I picture him…or her …actually, it’s a him. Dicky, our childhood dog, a lovely chocolate Lab as solid and wide as a barrel. Christy and I used to hold little Jonah on his back and Dicky would walk proudly and slowly around the house, flanked on either side by us girls. Our parents’ photo albums hold many images of this happy pastime.
    “Okay, okay,” Roger says. “I’m getting something. Was this pet…a mammal?”
    Amazing. “Bingo,” I answer.
    “Good, Maggie, and please just answer with yes or no.” He closes his eyes and I take the opportunity to drain my wineglass.
    “Maggie, was this animal…a cat?”
    “No.”
    Roger frowns slightly but doesn’t open his eyes. “Are you sure?”
    “Yes.”
    “Not a cat? You’re sure.”
    “Yes.” My voice is tight with the effort of not laughing.
    “A dog?”
    “Yes.”
    “Great!” Roger exclaims. He opens his eyes and frowns at me. “Are you sure you’re picturing the animal?”
    Dicky, Dicky, come to me, Dicky… I press my napkin against my mouth to suppress a laugh. “Yes, I’m really picturing him,” I manage to say.
    “You weren’t supposed to tell me it was a him! Come on, Maggie, do you want this reading or not?”
    “I really don’t—”
    Roger clamps his eyes shut again. “Okay, okay, he’s back. Right…this is a black and white dog. A Dalmatian. Yes.”
    “No.” A little snort escapes through my nose. Roger’s trance is not disturbed.
    “Okay, right, right… Is this dog black?”
    “Nope.”
    “An Irish setter?”
    “No,” I squeak.
    “Are you sure it’s not a cat?”
    My laughter can’t be contained any longer. “Okay, Roger, thank you. Listen, I really should get going. It was nice meeting you, but I just don’t think we’re right for each other,” I say as kindly as I can.
    “No kidding. I could tell that the minute you walked in.” He whips out his wallet, throws some bills on the table and stalks off. Can’t say I’m sorry to see him go. I wonder if the hospital knows about his special gift.
    “Is everything all right, miss?” the waiter asks.
    “Oh, sure. It was fine. Thank you. Can I have the check, please?”
    I’m not surprised to see that Roger has left only enough to cover his lobster. He didn’t even leave enough for his wine. Oh, well. I make up the difference and leave a huge tip for the waiter.
    When I get home, there’s a message waiting on my machine—Father Tim asking a question about the spaghetti dinner next week. Perfect. It’s too late to call my sister and tell her about the date, and Father Tim has just given me a great excuse to call him. He keeps late hours, something he’s mentioned in the past and which I stored in the Father Tim encyclopedia I keep in my brain. Besides, I just drove past the rectory and couldn’t miss the fact that the lights were still on.
    “Maggie, how are you?” he says warmly.
    “Oh, I just had the funniest date,” I say. By the time I’m finished filling him in on Roger Martin, enemy of lobsters and animal communicator, he’s laughing so hard he’s just wheezing.
    “Maggie, you’re a special one,” he says when he’s regained control. “I must say, I was in need of a good laugh, and you came along and answered my prayers.”
    I smile and scratch