1000 Words Meme - Prompt #10

Today is Your Lucky Day!

"Luck does not come in a cookie, Elaine Foster," Linda McCormick said, giving her Master Card to the waiter as he pushed an ebony, lacquered serving plate that held two cellophane wrapped cookies in front of the women having lunch at Lucky Fortune Chinese Cuisine.

Watching as the waiter returned to his cash register Linda turned her attention back to her best friend of twenty-one years."Nor does your future or a fortune, honey-bun. You're just wasting your time collecting those tiny strips of paper. We've eaten lunch here every day for over a month and nothing in your life has improved one iota. I say next week we start eating lunch at that new Greek Restaurant that just opened up across the street. If you're lucky you'd be more likely to find a bit of romance with that handsome owner." Linda leaned across the table to whisper his name. "I also know that he is unattached at the moment and if I weren't engaged to Christopher, I might consider getting to know him myself."

The waiter returned Linda's credit card with a wry smile plastered across his face. "Very good eating at that place," he said, still showing a full set of bright, white teeth. He winked at Elaine, "You very lucky missy, today," he said. "Today is your luckiest day for sure. Today you find a very good fortune in your cookie." He pushed the plate of two crescent-shaped cookies a little closer to Elaine.

Linda snatched the receipt, signed it, and then returned her Master Card to her wallet. No tippy for you today, fella, Linda grumbled to herself. I'm through adding to your fortune at the Lucky Fortune. The still smiling waiter nodded slightly and left the women alone. But she knew he'd be watching from the counter. Waiting for missy Elaine to open her cookie. Watching for the expression of joy or sadness on her face when she read the strip of promise.

"Well, go on, honey-bun," Linda drawled, "open the thing up and see if Mister Right lurks in the shadows of that new Greek place. If you're lucky we'll eat with the Greek guy tomorrow."

Timidly, as she always did at their noontime ritual, Elaine carefully peeled the cellophane from her cookie, shut her eyes, and then quickly snapped the cookie in two. Slowly, opening her eyes just a fraction of an inch, she gently pulled the slip of paper from the broken cookie and opened it up. She always read the message to herself several times before sharing it with Linda.

"Well, what did it say?" Linda insisted on knowing. "Read it out loud, will you?"

"Aren't you going to open your cookie, today, Linda?" Elaine gave her girlfriend a pleading smile. "You read yours first, then I'll read mine. Okay?"

Linda rolled her eyes, and then glanced at her watch. Lunch hour would be over in fifteen minutes and she wanted time to for a quick trip to the washroom before spending the next four hours jammed in her claustrophobic, padded cubicle at work, explaining company policies and rules to first time buyers. It was a job. She had good days and bad days, but she never intended on staying in the insurance business, working the help line, for the rest of her life. She and Christopher planned to be married in three months. She planned on being a stay-at-home-mom, having all the things she'd dreamed of having as a young girl. A big house, two cars—an SUV for herself—a smaller, more fuel efficient car for the hubby. She had it all planned out. They'd have four children. Two boys first, then two girls. Everyone would be allowed to have the pet of their choice. Although she was a cat lover and Christopher was a dog lover, they were tolerable with each other's choices. Their kids would be allowed to explore all kinds of pets as they grew up, the way she had. At seven, she'd had a couple of longhaired guinea pigs that soon turned into a roomful of Star Trek Tribbles.

On the Plexiglas topped table between them, Elaine drummed her glossy, perfectly manicured fingernails. The drum roll effect brought Linda out of her daydream and back to reality. This was a game they played every time they came here. Elaine would break her cookie first but wouldn't divulge its message until after Linda unwrapped her cookie and read its message—aloud.

Elaine always tried to remain motionless, impassionate, while she waited to hear what the Lucky Fortune had in store for Linda. The only fun Linda gained from playing the game Elaine's way was to watch the changes in her friends face—her body language. First came the frozen-stiff body, eyes large, anticipating a magical moment, but not overly so. As Linda opened and read the message to herself first, she'd slipped glances at her friend, looking for the tale-tale changes that would give her away. Elaine's back would stiffen even more as she sat up straighter, her fingers would pinch pieces of her un-eaten cookie into tiny crumbs and then brush them aside. Linda imagined if Elaine were a cat, her ears would swivel back and forth taking in the slightest sounds while staring you down. Or if she were a dog, she'd be panting and drooling. But as a human being she was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Elaine, clearly unable to contain her self-imposed silence, cleared her throat. "We'll? What does it say? Is it a good one? Come on, read it to me."

In turn, Linda cleared her throat. What if her message was better than the one Elaine had received? Would she, should she, make up something low key, hum drum, silly and completely ridiculous the way most slips of paper were, or should she tell her the truth?

Elaine's face read like a first time poker player. If she had a good fortune, her large, bright eyes sparkled, and no matter how determined she was to remain motionless, nonchalant, she wiggled in her seat, slightly. If her message was not something she wanted or perhaps, one that she'd received before, her face would reflect the disappointment as she waited for a better fortune from her friend. And there'd be no anxious wiggling in her seat.

Today, Linda couldn't see that sparkle or slight wiggle, no matter how hard Elaine had tried to pretend that she'd finally gotten a good message—the signs weren't there.

Linda looked again at the thin strip of paper in her hand, a supposed prediction of her future typed in red ink, the Chinese equivalent stamped on the other side. One among hundreds of thousands of pieces of paper lined up in a machine rapidly stuffing each cookie at a dizzying pace as the machine folded the cookie over the paper and sent it off to be sealed in cellophane, and then shipped to every Chinese restaurant in America. She wondered what the odds were. How many messages did the Chinese have? How many proverbs did they include or predictions of fortunes and good luck? How many thousands were duplicated a million times over? So, what were the odds of two people sitting in a small restaurant at noon every day, getting the same message? What were the odds of those same two people getting a genuine glimpse into a future of good fortune at the same time—on the same day?

Linda glanced at her friends eyes again—glossy wet, but no sparkle; fidgeting, but no butt wiggling. Elaine had something alright—for once was it a good one, one that caused her friend to tear up and nibble on her bottom lip? If it really was a good fortune, if it was her lucky day, the luckiest she'd had in months, should Linda spoil it by having one better, as she often had, or should she lie?

"It's a dumb saying, Elaine. It just says that 'this is your lucky day—good fortune is around the corner.'" Linda then crumpled the paper and stuck in her purse. "Now read your fortune, Elaine. What did you get?"

The light in Elaine's eyes went out; the corners of her mouth drooped—quivered even. "Mine's a dumb one, too," she said. After taking a deep breath, she crumpled up her paper and tossed it on the table. "Time to go back to work." Elaine stood up, brushed the broken cookie crumbs from her lap. "You're right, Linda," she said without emotion, "tomorrow we'll give the Greek a try," then headed for the door after dropping a five dollar tip on the table.

Stunned, Linda grabbed Elaine's crumple piece of paper and tossed it into her purse with the other one, then quickly followed her friend out of the restaurant.

What were the odds of two friends lying to each other about what their fortune cookie had told them that day? Later, at home, Linda dumped the contents of her purse onto the bed, found the two crumpled strips of paper and pressed them open, side-by-side. "You will marry the man of your dreams soon, have four children, and live happily ever after." For Linda, the strip of paper was right on for once, but she knew that Elaine was barren, she'd never be able to have the children she so desperately wanted, or the man of her dreams, whose wedding band she still wore. Her husband had died in a military conflict on the other side of the world six long months ago. Elaine had just started looking for a happy, bright future, again. A bright promise of hope on a silly strip of paper in an ordinary cookie that was as tasteless as its sayings, to tell her that she would live happily ever after again. Today was not her lucky day.

by DBB