The Art of Purring (The Dalai Lama's Cat 2)
Page 44
“The dogs!” she exclaimed.
Sam sat up with a jolt, asking anxiously, “Where are they?”
Both of them stood and surveyed the café and bookstore.
And then Serena spotted them lying on the pavement, just outside the café door. Never in all our end-of-the-day sessions had Marcel and Kyi Kyi abandoned the sofa and the possibility of a tummy rub. Never had they gone out into the darkness at the end of the night. It just didn’t happen.
Serena exchanged a look with Sam.
“They know,” she said.
CHAPTER TEN
Indeed they did.
A short while later, Serena was tallying up the night’s receipts, having waved goodnight to the last table of diners. Behind the bookstore counter, Sam was doing the same. Kusali was putting the finishing touches on the café in readiness for tomorrow’s breakfast. Having made my way down from the book section, I was about to amble home.
There was a sudden commotion outside, and we all looked toward the door. A large, white taxi had pulled up beside the café, its lights ablaze. Someone was climbing out of the backseat. Marcel and Kyi Kyi were yapping crazily, jumping up at the figure in black jeans and a sweatshirt. Even before he turned, we knew exactly who it was.
He bent to take one dog in each arm. The barking abruptly stopped, replaced by a frenzy of snuffling, whimpering, and face licking. Franc threw back his head and laughed with joy.
When he stepped into the café, he looked from Serena to Sam to Kusali to me.
“I’ve come straight from Delhi. I made the cabdriver come past the café. When I saw the lights were on …” He didn’t need to explain, as he clutched the two
squirming dogs with delight.
Serena was the first to approach him. “Welcome home!” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
Franc put the dogs on the floor. They immediately hurtled up the steps as Sam was coming down, before racing back to Franc, then out the door onto the sidewalk, then back inside again.
“Great to have you back!” Sam greeted him with a handshake followed by a bear hug.
A short distance away, Kusali folded his palms at his heart and bowed deeply. Franc reciprocated, holding the headwaiter’s gaze all the while. “Namaste, Kusali.”
“Namaste, sir.”
Then Franc came over to where I was sitting and took me in his arms. “Little Rinpoche,” he said, kissing me on the neck. “I’m so glad you, too, are here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
I snuggled into his arm.
Sam looked down at where the two dogs were still racing around in circles like crazy things. “I know I didn’t say anything about returning,” Franc told Sam and Serena. “That’s because for the next little while I want you to carry on doing what you’re doing.”
“You think you could stay away from here?” Serena said with a smile, betraying none of the anxiety she was feeling.
“Oh, I’ll be stopping by for coffee or lunch. But full-time manager?” He was shaking his head. “I’m not in any big hurry. One of the things that going through this whole experience with Dad made me realize is that I want to make the most of being here in McLeod Ganj with all these great teachers. Life is short. I don’t want to spend all of it running a restaurant.”
The three humans and I were listening intently.
“If you weren’t going back to Europe”—he looked over at Serena—“I’d be trying to persuade you to stay on and job-share with me.”
“That’s an idea.” Sam glanced over at Serena with a grin.
Serena raised her eyebrows. “You’d trust my judgment?”
Franc beamed. “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve never had such great financials as we’ve had since the two of you began running the show. Everyone seems better off without me.”
He cocked his head, looking at the dogs. “Hopefully not everyone.”