“Awesome,” said Mikey. “I’ll look forward to it... in the mornings.”
“Don’t blame me if it tells you something you don’t want to hear.”
He smiled. “No worries, George. I know it’s make-believe. But it’s fun when you find connections.”
“Connections?”
“You know—coincidences. Most of it comes from what we have in common already. Sharing similar experiences, being human, just relating. Like when psychics say—” Mikey raised his left hand to his temple and closed his eyes. “I see a man... he’s very wise... I think it’s your father.” He dropped his hand and opened his eyes. “Well, duh. Most folks have a Dad and he’s pretty smart in their eyes. You feel me?”
George chuckled. “Yeah, I do. Speaking of wise.”
“I’m smarter than I look—andsoundsometimes. I do a lot of thinking out there on the street.”
“While you’re singing?”
“No. I sing tostopthinking. Too much thinking can be a bad thing. Like maybe youover-thinkingthis date tonight. If it’s no good, George, it’s no good. You never have to see him again.”
“You’re right. Guess I’m just nervous.”
“No need. You’re smart, good-looking, and you own your own business. Fuck him if he doesn’t see it. His loss.”
“Thanks, Mikey.”
“Anytime. And remember, next time you want to go on a date—I’m single, bilingual...single, bilingual,” he sang, doing an impressive little snake dance and ending with side kicks à la New Kids on the Block.
“Wow,” said George. “That brings back memories. David was ahugePet Shop Boys fan.”
“Good taste.”
“Well, I gotta get moving. I’m heading to Arlington to change before I meet him back in town.”
“I hear ya, boss. On my way. Thanks again for the book.”
“Enjoy it.”
“I will. I’ll let you know your horoscope daily as well.”
“I’m counting on it. Oh, Mikey, by the way... what’s your sign?”
Book in hand, he raised his fists to his forehead, pointing both forefingers up like horns, huffing and snorting, dragging one foot back as if digging for a hold. “Taurus, the bull.”
* * *
So Mikeywasa Taurus... just like May had predicted. He was also quick-witted and nimble for a big guy. And he really wasn’t that big, just solid, with a cute belly, well-proportioned to the rest of him. Cuddly, in fact—with sweet brown eyes, an infectious smile...
Why are you thinking about this?
He looked at his watch. He had to leave in five minutes or he would be late. He took a few steps back to check himself in the mirror.
Not bad.
He was wearing faded jeans, loafers, and an oxford button-down, pale blue. His blazer was tan with brown suede elbow patches. He wasn’t sure if that was in or out, fashion-wise—trends had never been a concern of his. Other than underwear, he hadn’t shopped for clothes since David had died. He thought he looked pretty good though, for thirty-seven. He had shaved his neck but left the facial scruff. His hair was perfectly mussed.
He grinned.
Whatever.
Out the door, he went.
