Snookums: I Was A Teenage Fortune Teller Romance, #2

By Mattie Fern Worrix

Teenage Frankie Fowler loves volunteering at the Serendipity Retirement Home. Playing board games with the residents and her talent for domino fortune telling keeps things fun while Snookums, her therapy dog, brightens their day as only a dog can do.

When the grandfather of Oliver Channing moves in, Frankie falls hard for the cute grandson. Will the dominoes predict true love — or a broken heart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mattie Fern Worrix
• Release date: Mar 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393230021

Book preview

Dedication

For Leatha Richardson

Chapter 1 - Frankie

AS SNOOKUMS AND I WALKED down the retirement center’s main hallway, her toenails clicked on the glossy brown and tan checkered linoleum. Her little tail wagged so hard I was afraid she might lift off the ground and float up to the chandelier. Good thing I’ve got her on a leash.

I chuckled to myself. She gets all jazzed and frisky the minute we step inside the building. She trots faster and I have to step up my own pace to keep up. I looked down at her prancing along in her cute red therapy dog vest and my heart puffed up with pride.

We started to pass the snack cart parked in the hallway next to the fire extinguisher on the wall and Snookums paused, and lifted her black furry nose up into the air for a good sniff.

The yummy scent of baked brown sugar wafted up into my own nose as well. I’m always happy to catch that kind of smell in the Serendipity Retirement Home—because, unfortunately, more often than not, there’s a funky smell or two lingering in the hallways.

The strong scent of Bengay ointment to rub on achy muscles and arthritic joints is common, as is rosewater and glycerin skin lotion. These are two of the more benign smells in a senior care center filled with people wearing Depends.

As my dad likes to say, growing older ain’t for sissies. And he should know because he’s the swing shift charge nurse here.

Ooh, looks like pineapple upside down cupcakes and coconut-cherry smoothies for afternoon snack, I said to Della, the tray girl who works in the kitchen, as she came out of Mamie Peterson’s room. I smiled at her and then poked my head inside the room to wave at Mamie.

Frankie! she said, with enthusiasm, and her face lit up. Can you and Snookums come and play dominoes with me later on?

Mamie sat in her wheelchair, her pretty silver hair pulled into a long ponytail down her back, and with a homemade knitted red and pink afghan draped across her lap. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes crinkled up at the corners as she smiled.

Yes, we’d love to, I said. How about right after dinner?

Sounds good, she said, as she picked up a straw to drink her afternoon smoothie. See you then.

I waved goodbye and turned to Della.

Everybody always wants to play dominoes with you, Frankie, she said, with a laugh. She’s pretty with dark hair and smokey cat’s eye makeup, and today she’s wearing soft pink scrubs. Her name tag says Della Rose and she has a tiny red rose drawn next to her name.

Della is one of my favorite employees at the retirement home. She only works a part-time shift in the kitchen because she’s also attending the Pretty Paws Pet Grooming Academy in Salem to become a pet stylist.

I’m gonna miss her when she graduates from dog grooming school—but she plans to eventually open her own mobile pet grooming business in the area so it’s not like she’s moving away.

She looked down at Snookums who sat at my feet, begging for a cupcake. And hello to you too, Ms. Snookie.

Snookums’s tail wagged harder than ever.

Her sweet tooth is worse than mine, I said. By the way, how was grooming school today?

Well, okay I guess. I’ve been working on my schnauzer heads, she said, and moved her two fingers in a cutting motion. But it’s tricky holding my scissors at just the correct angle to create their eyebrows.

Having Della in dog grooming school has been great because she showed me how to trim Snookums’s nails. I’d been so nervous about doing it myself because Snookums has black nails and you can’t tell where the frickin’ quick is.

And Mom tried to trim her nails once but made her bleed—so Snookums started to get all fussy whenever we tried to pick up her paws.

I told Della what happened and she instructed me to start handling her paws and playing with her toes, with a small handful of treats, while I watched TV in the evenings. Then Della showed me how to trim just the small hook off Snookums’s nails and file them with a emory board.

No more fussy paws.

Have you noticed some of the gentlemen in here look like they’ve got bushy schnauzer brows? I said, with a giggle.

Actually, I have, she said, and gave me a grin. Mr. Bowers in room 12.

Mr. Walter Bowers has thick wild brows and he’s always joking about them himself. He told me his wife, who recently passed away, always threatened to take a weedwacker to them.

We both chuckled and I spotted my dad down at the far end of the hallway walking toward us with three people. Two adults and a cute boy that looked to be around my own age.

And here comes one of our special and wonderful volunteers, I heard my dad say, waving at me. And she also happens to be my lovely teenage daughter, Francine.

I let out a cranky breath.

I really hate it when Dad calls me Francine. And yes, it is my name on my birth certificate, but it just sounds so girly. Like someone who wears lots of pink and frilly lace, smells like cotton candy, and doesn’t want to get her hands dirty.

So yeah, I’m definitely more of a Frankie than a Francine.

The really weird thing though, is the story behind my name. When I was born my dad wanted to name me Francine and Mom wanted Frankie. Both were adamant so my Grandma Gigi (Mom’s mom) said they had to agree to let Fate decide. So my folks literally played rock, paper, scissors to decide which name went on the birth certificate—and which one became my