“And then he just said, we’re getting too serious, I need some time.”
Sally swept her arm dramatically, knocking her butter knife to the floor.
Kelly snickered. “You know that means that you’re going to get a gentleman visitor, if you drop your knife to the floor.”
Sally rolled her eyes dramatically. “Like I need a man, right now.”
She bent sideways in her seat to pick up the knife, but before she could get to it, a man from the neighbouring table swept it up and presented it to her.
“Yours, I believe?” he said with a smile.
Sally took the knife from his hand, a bit flustered because he was actually quite good looking.
“Um, okay. Thanks.” She placed the knife beside her plate and looked into Kelly’s smirking face.
“See? Gentleman visitor.”
Sally rolled her eyes. “A bit of loose interpretation there, you superstitious nut. So what happens if I drop my fork?”
“Well then, that’s a female visitor”.
Sally deliberately swept her arm again and her fork dropped to the floor. “Okay, looking forward to a female visitor. I wonder who that could be.”
Kelly shrugged. “Let me know when it happens.”
Sally laughed and stood up. “Well it was great catching up, I’d better get back to work. See you again next week?”
The two women hugged and went their separate ways.
Sally finished her shift at the real estate agency and went home, looking forward to a candlelit soak in the bath and a lonely dinner. She had just settled down to eat her toasted cheese sandwich in front of the television when the doorbell rang. To her surprise, her mother stood outside.
“Hi hon, I just felt I had to come and see you. I hope it’s not a bad time.”
“Mum! Of course not. Please come in, do you want a glass of wine?”
Sally laughed. “I dropped my fork at lunch, and Kelly told me I was going to have a female visitor. I’m beginning to believe her superstitious nonsense. This is a lovely surprise.”
Sally’s mum laughed. “Yes, my mum told me about that. You drop a knife, gentleman visitor. You drop a fork, a female visitor, you drop a spoon …” Her mum’s laugh dried up, and she looked a little thoughtful.
“So, mum. What happens if you drop a spoon?”
Sally’s mum chose her words carefully. “Apparently, if you drop a spoon, you get an unwelcome visitor. Now I’m not particularly superstitious, but you’re on a roll. I suggest you just don’t drop a spoon any time soon. Now how about making me a cup of tea.”
Sally smiled, added water to the kettle, spooned out a teaspoon of tea into the infuser.
“Would you like a biscuit with that?” She swept around, knocking the teaspoon to the floor.
They both looked at the spoon dismally. Sally’s mum laughed. “Of course, it’s only silly superstition …”
They had their cup of tea and Sally’s mum left, with promises to catch up more often.
Meanwhile, under Sally’s bed, a beast with eternal patience waited for her to go to sleep.