I slept long and hard after my "date" with Pluto, and didn't remember dreaming—which was probably a good thing. When I finally opened my eyes, it was night. I realized I hadn't spoken to Jupiter in a day or two, so I grabbed the cell phone Mercury had given me and punched the number one. Mercury answered, of course—after all, he's the cosmic equivalent of a switchboard operator.

"Hey, doll. Where ya been? Jupiter's been freaking out over here."

"It's a long story," I answered. "A really long story. Can I talk to him?"

"Sure. Hold on."

A second later, my favorite planetary uncle was on the phone. "Hey, babe. You okay?" There was a legitimate concern in his voice—something I'd never associated with this risk-loving planet. I reminded myself that he was in Taurus at the moment, however, a sign that was almost as famous as Capricorn for being cautious, and I reassured him.

"I'm fine, sweetie—just went on a long, strange trip. With Pluto," I added.

"What?" I thought Jupiter was about to come through the phone at me. "Pluto? What did he do to you?"

I tried to calm him down. "I'm fine, darlin', I'm fine. Really. No cause for alarm. We just had dinner, that's all."

Jupiter exhaled heavily into the phone. "Dinner doesn't take two weeks, honey. But I guess that's your business."

"Two weeks? I've been gone two weeks?" I glanced around the room for my cat, suddenly worried, but he was fine, curled up on his favorite chair, sleeping. Who had been taking care of him? "Who took care of Zuni?" I asked.

"Moon did," Jupiter answered. "She went over to feed him every day." I smiled. It sure did come in handy, having the great cosmic nurturer tending to your needs personally. She would never have allowed my baby to starve. No wonder he looked so contented.

"I'll have to thank her," I said. "Next time I come in."

"Yeah, well, you'd better get your Sagittarian butt down here soon, babe," Jupiter answered, his tone remarkably lighter. "We've got reservations."

"Reservations? What do you mean? Are we going somewhere? Do I need to pack?"

"Nah," Jupiter answered. "I move a lot faster than Pluto does. You'll be back in a day."

Another trip. Ah, well—life had been one long trip since I'd first been to the Café—and what could possibly be bad about traveling with Jupiter? He was the King of the Gods, after all. "Dress comfy, and wear your walking shoes, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed. "But where are we going?"

"Well," he began, and then there was a pause. I heard the click of his lighter and realized he was puffing on yet another cigar. "Saturn and I were talking after you left, and believe it or not, the picky bastard actually suggested you were due for a reward."

"A reward? Why?"

"I don't know, babe," Jupiter answered. "Maybe it had something to do with your visit the other day. I don't ask questions when he finally gets in the mood to give something up. I just take it and go. So let's go. When can you be here?"

"Um…shortly," I said. "But where? C'mon, tell me."

Jupiter laughed delightedly. "Nope. You'll find out when you get here. See ya in a bit, honey."

I hung up the phone, smiling, and headed for the shower.

When I got to the Café, there was a cab outside, its motor idling. I walked past it and went inside, looking for Jupiter. He emerged from the kitchen almost immediately, carrying two tall long-stemmed glasses and an ice-bucket with a bottle of champagne. "Let's go, babe. Time's a wastin'."

Of course it was. Jupiter was never famous for his patience, moderation, or ability to sit still. I followed him into the back seat of the cab and listened as he told the driver to take us to the airport—to the international terminal. I wasn't all that surprised to learn that we were leaving the country. Jupiter is the ruler of all long-distance journeys—and the King of Excess. He popped the cork on the champagne and poured us each a glass. "Here's to you, baby," he said, grinning widely. "Courtesy of me and Saturn."

Suddenly, I realized that both Jupiter and Saturn were forming an easy trine to my Venus. What a great combination! I had often remarked to students that the best of everything arrived when both of those planets touched our charts. Although Jupiter never needed an excuse to pass out a treat, Saturn only gave you what you deserved. As a result, "lucky breaks"—that were really only half luck, and half-earned—were common. I must've been a very good girl this year.

I smiled and toasted Jupiter. "So now will you tell me where we're going?"

He guzzled the entire glass of champagne, belched loudly and said, "Sorry, babe. Gas. You know." I giggled. Of course he had gas—that's what the planet Jupiter is made of. He paused, pounded his chest and said "Europe, babe. Europe."

Next Week: Traveling Overseas With the God of Long-Distance Trips

Read the entire Cosmic Café Saga.
Cosmic Café Archive