Jillian shot her a dark look and Barry blustered, looking indignant, which was how Carly knew that was exactly what he’d been thinking.
“I was not . . . I had no . . .” he said but Carly interrupted.
“Yeah, yeah, I have a lot of work to do to get my security deposit back on this place,” she said. “So let’s make with the paperwork already, unless of course you’re telling me that Mrs. Genaro left me a sizeable chunk of money which will allow me to keep my crib.”
Barry cocked his head to the side as if he wasn’t sure what she was talking about.
“You have a baby?” he asked.
Carly resisted the urge to smack her forehead with her palm. Barely.
“Let’s just get on with it, dude,” she said.
She figured he would consider “dude” even more appalling than “Barry.” She was right. Instead of correcting her, however, he simply sighed as if he were being forced to do community service by helping the rude and sarcastic.
He opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. “It’s fairly straightforward. You sign these documents and the items she has bequeathed you become yours.”
“What are the documents for?” Jillian asked.
This earned her a beaming smile from Barry as if she were his favorite student in Estate Settlements 101.
“It’s mostly a formality,” he said. “The papers will signify that Ms. DeCusati—”
“Ms. DeCusati is my bossy older sister; call me Carly, or even better you can call me Sugar Pants,” Carly said. She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
Barry’s face flushed a shade of red found only on small, bitter root vegetables. Jillian pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Carly punched Barry lightly on the arm.
“I’m just funning you, Barry,” she said.
He closed his eyes as if he might be able to click the heels of his high gloss Gucci loafers together and escape her. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
“The papers are a written record of the transaction,” he said. He opened his eyes. “They will signify that you have agreed to accept the object Mrs. Genaro has bequeathed to you and that your association with our office is done.”
Carly wasn’t sure but she thought he looked a little more chipper at this news.
“Cool, where do I sign?” she said.
Barry put the papers on the counter in front of her. All of the lines requiring her signature had handy little fluorescent stickers with arrows pointing to the corresponding blank space. He pulled a pen out of his Armani jacket and handed it to her.
“Eager to be off the clock, eh?” Carly asked.
He ignored her.
“Don’t you want to read through those first?” Jillian asked. “There might be pertinent information in there.”
“Nah.” Carly waved her hand as she started signing. “I don’t have time. Besides, Mrs. Genaro was a sweet little old lady. We watched Dancing with the Stars together when she was feeling lonely; she had the hots for Bruno Tonioli. I’m sure whatever it is, it’s more a token of affection than a big cash payout.”
Carly looked at Barry. His face was a mask of benevolent innocence. That’s why she hated lawyers. You could never tell when they were hiding something.
“She wasn’t rich, was she?” she asked. “You’re not holding out on me, are you, Barry?”
“Uh, no,” he said. “Her assets were minimal.”
Carly glanced back at Jillian. “See? Told you so.”
She signed the last spot and then handed Barry his pen.
“So hit me, what’d she give me?”
“One moment,” he said. He walked over to the door and stuck his head out into the hallway. “In here, please.”
Jillian and Carly exchanged an intrigued glance.
“Maybe it’s a piano,” Carly said. “I’ve always wanted a piano.”
“What if it’s a leg lamp?”
“From Fragile, Italy?” Carly asked. Then she started laughing. “Yeah, that’d be my luck.”
Two burly moving men, wearing brown coveralls, came into the apartment. One was carrying a large glass bowl filled with water and a very round goldfish, aptly named Goldie by Mrs. Genaro. The other one was carrying a large rectangular case with a fierce-looking reptile named Spike, Mrs. G’s pet lizard. Carly felt herself start to sweat. What exactly had she signed?
The men set the pets down on the table and left the apartment. They didn’t shut the door, leaving Carly to believe there was more.
“Oh, no,” Carly said. She looked at Barry as the panic began to fill her insides like water on the rise. “She didn’t.”
“She did.” Barry looked smug.
“What?” Jillian asked. “What’s going on?”
Just then the men returned. One had a pretty golden retriever on a leash; the other carried a large rectangular object, draped with a cloth. The dog, Mrs. Genaro’s companion Saul, tipped his head to the side as if considering Carly. She ignored him, hoping with all of her might that there was a huge misunderstanding happening here.
The man set the big object down in the middle of the room and stepped back. Carly grabbed a side of the sheet draped over it and gave it a good yank. Sure enough, there he was in all of his green-feathered glory: Mrs. G’s beloved parrot.
“Hello, Ike,” Carly said. “Long time no see.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ike squawked.
Chapter 2
“Oh, my god.” Jillian clapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. “Did he just—?”
Whatever she had been about to say was cut off by the belly laughs of the two moving men as they exited the room. The one with the dog handed Carly his leash on the way out.
“That was awesome,” one of them said as they laughed all the way back down the stairs.
Barry was busy stuffing his papers back into his briefcase. Carly frowned at him. She couldn’t help but think he looked like a rat scurrying off a sinking ship. Then again, that was unfair to rats; they were cute, Barry was not.
“There’s been a mistake. I can’t keep these pets,” Carly said. “I can barely take care of myself.”
“Then you shouldn’t have signed the papers,” Barry retorted.
“But it never occurred to me that she would . . . wait . . . you mean I could have declined?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said. “But now it’s too late because you signed the papers.”
He gave her a smarmy little smile.
“Can I borrow your pen?” she asked.
“Why? It’s too late, you can’t cross out your name and have it undone,” he said. He was backing toward the door, clutching his briefcase to his chest.
“I was thinking more about using it to shank you,” she said.
At that, he gave her a horrified look, spun on his shiny footwear, and bolted.
“Coward!” Carly yelled after him. Then she slammed her door shut with enough force to make it rattle. She hoped Barry knew that’s what she was planning to do to his head if she ever saw him again.
Saul immediately slunk to the floor and put his paws over his head as if he was hiding. Carly sighed. This was bad, so very, very bad. Still, it wasn’t the animals’ fault.
“It’s okay, Saul,” she said. She bent over and scratched his ears. “It’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you.”
Saul immediately rolled over for a belly rub. Carly buried her fingers in his thick blonde coat, trying to keep herself from having a complete and total freak-out.
“Well, it looks like you’ve got yourself some pets.” Jillian stared around Carly’s kitchen in bemusement before she approached the birdcage. “Ike, huh? How you doing, pretty boy?”
Ike gave her side eye and sidled away from her on his perch.
“I don’t think he likes me,” Jillian said.
/> “He doesn’t like anyone,” Carly said. “He didn’t even like Mrs. G.”
As if he understood, Ike fluffed up his feathers and turned his back on her.
“And just what am I supposed to do with all of you?” Carly asked the animals. Saul licked her face, the fish and lizard ignored her, while Ike’s response was to begin preening his armpit. She had feeling there was a message there.
“It looks like you have no choice,” Jillian said. “You’re going to have to bring them home to Bluff Point. Maybe you can find a nice family for them there.”
“A nice family?” Carly asked. “For a fish, a lizard, a geriatric dog, and a salty bird? Did you hear what came out of that beak? No family is going to want this foul-mouthed bird teaching their precious munchkins to tell people to eff off.”
“Good point,” Jillian said. She glanced down but the shake of her shoulders gave her away.
“This isn’t funny,” Carly wailed. She stood and clapped her hands to her head as she fell back onto her sofa. “I can’t even take care of dust bunnies, how am I supposed to take care of this freaking menagerie?”
“A what?” Emma asked as she entered the apartment followed by Mac and Tulip.
Tulip caught one whiff of Saul and began to bark, which caused Saul to bark in return, making Ike screech while pacing on his perch, which only made Tulip bark louder. When the cacophony was too much to bear, Ike puffed out his chest and a ripple ran from the top of his silky green head all the way to the tip of his tail feathers, and in a voice that sounded like a prison warden, he shouted, “Shut your stupid cake hole!”
Everyone froze with their mouths slack. Even Tulip and Saul quit barking. Saul jumped on top of Carly on the couch, while Tulip let out a small whimper and crawled under the dining room table.
“Did it . . . did I . . . where did all this come from?” Emma asked. She put one hand on her hip and pointed at the bird, the fish, and the lizard with her other hand as if she couldn’t quite believe their sudden appearance.
“Was this your inheritance?” Mac asked. She was a little quicker at putting it all together.
“Yes,” Carly said. Being trapped under Saul, she didn’t get up from the sofa but merely lifted her head to look at them. “Emma and Mac, meet Ike, the swearing parrot; Saul, the geezer dog; Goldie, the fish who won’t die; and Spike, the prehistoric-looking lizard.”
Jillian, who had been making choking noises for the past few minutes, finally lost the battle and a snort came out of her nose that made Tulip tuck her tail in between her legs and hunker lower on her belly. Emma and Mac took one look at their friend and they lost it, too.
Carly stared up at the ceiling. She was pleased that her friends could find amusement in her personal hell, really, she didn’t mind. Sure, her life was in the toilet and no one was even offering her so much as a courtesy flush, but yeah, it was fine. She was fine. It would be fine.
She glanced at Ike. He had gone back to preening. Saul was pushing his head into her side. Both the fish and the lizard seemed singularly unfazed by their new domicile. Mac and Emma were now supporting each other as they gasped for air. Jillian had almost gotten herself under control but then looked at the other two and lost it again.
Carly realized that if the situation were reversed, she’d be the one in hysterics and, really, could she blame them? She’d just inherited her own Noah’s Ark. It was funny, there was no denying it. For her, however, it was just one more problem on a leaky boat on a choppy sea in shark-infested waters.
It was bad enough she was doing the millennial thing and moving back in with her parents while she regrouped and got back on her feet. Now she was bringing a pack of animals with her, too. There was no way her god-fearing Catholic parents were going to embrace these critters, not to mention Carly’s own walk-on-the-wild-side lifestyle.
For the past eleven years, she had managed to keep her family in the dark about her commitment phobia and preference for short-term flings as opposed to full-on relationships. Now, living back in her hometown and under her parents’ roof, she was going to have to make a vow of celibacy to keep them happy. The thought had little to no appeal for her.
“I’m sorry, Carly, really I am,” Jillian said. She dabbed at her eyes and shook her head in an effort to get it together.
“Me, too,” Mac said.
“Me, three,” Emma chimed in.
They all piled onto the couch with her, heedless of the half-packed boxes and Saul’s hair explosion as they shifted him to accommodate them.
The four of them stared up at the ceiling, looking for comfort, a solution—or possibly just enjoying the thick, creamy paint swirls that covered the ceiling.
“It’s going to be all right,” Mac said. “We can all help with the pets.”
“They are all lovely in their own way,” Emma said. “Surely someone wants pets like these.”
“I notice none of you are volunteering,” Carly said.
“My hours at the bakery make pets impossible,” Jillian said.
“I already have a dog,” Mac said.
“I’d have to check with Husband,” Emma said. “He might be allergic.”
“To a fish or a lizard?” Mac asked.
“It could happen,” Emma said.
Carly let out a sigh so long and so deep she was sure she was out of oxygen and would expire on the spot. No such luck.
“What’s the matter?” Jillian asked.
“I just realized I’m probably never going to have sex ever again,” Carly said.
“No.”
“Nah.”
“Not possible.”
“Really?” she asked. “Because I’m going to be living with my parents and my little sister and now I have this furry, scaly, and feathered entourage. What man in his right mind is going to want to come home with me to my parents’ house, both of whom would stroke out if I brought a man home by the way, to have sex with me in front of this crew, one of which is a filthy-mouthed bird, who will probably swear at us the whole time we’re doing the horizontal mambo.”
They were all silent. This really wasn’t a glass-half-full-versus-half-empty dilemma. It was more a pour-the-water-out-and-find-a-bottle-of-vodka-and-fill-the-glass-to-the-lip situation.
“I’m doomed, I tell you,” Carly wailed. “Doomed.”
• • •
“Hey, Mac, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t those your aunts?” Carly asked. “And unless I’m seeing things, it looks like they’ve had their hair done.”
A week had passed and the day of Carly’s big move had arrived. Mac had borrowed her boyfriend Gavin’s pickup truck to drive Carly, and the possessions she had not put into storage, home to Bluff Point. They had crossed the town line a few minutes ago and were now making their way through the center of Bluff Point on their way to Carly’s parents’ house.
Mac glanced in the direction Carly pointed and stared at the two elderly women on the town green doing some sort of calisthenic workout with a group of other geriatrics and a guy in basketball shorts and a tank top, who looked ripped enough to bench-press a car.
“Holy hot peppers!” Mac said. “Is that . . . purple in Aunt Charlotte’s hair and red in Aunt Sarah’s? They told me they had a hair appointment this morning but they did not mention the new colors. My dad is going to kill me.”
“He’s still not embracing his sisters plowing through their bucket list?” Carly asked. Personally, she thought the two septuagenarians were pretty badass for taking up everything from beekeeping to hip-hop to surfing in their dotage, but that was just her.
“He says it gives him heartburn,” Mac said.
“Then don’t tell him. Besides, who cares about the hair? Get a load of their buff trainer,” Carly said.
“I have to stop just to make sure they’re okay. What if this is some sort of crazy boot camp and they throw
out a hip or something?”
“No prob. I’m in no hurry to move back into my childhood bedroom.”
Mac pulled into a parking spot on the edge of the green. As soon as she switched off the engine, Saul, who had been dead asleep, popped up in the backseat where he was wedged next to the strapped-in birdcage. He wagged his fluffy tail and gave Carly a soft woof.
She shook her head at him. “We are only stopping for a minute. We just gave you a sniff-and-pee break a half hour ago, you can hold it.”
Saul sank back down onto his seat and stared up at Carly. “No, I am not falling for the sad face. Don’t waste your time. I’m heartless, remember?”
It was early October and while the days were becoming cooler, today was bright and sunny as the temperature hovered around seventy, making it one of the last gorgeous days Maine would see for a while. They rolled down the windows for the dog, and Carly opened the cover that had been on the birdcage so that Ike could get some fresh air, too.
“Behave,” Carly said.
“Bite me,” Ike retorted.
Mac snorted.
“Now I know what it’s like to have a mouthy teenager on my hands,” Carly said.
“So do I,” Mac agreed as she gestured to the aunts.
She pocketed her keys as they left the pickup truck and strode over to where the aunts were standing amidst a group of seniors, receiving some sort of workout instruction from the bona fide hottie; at least, he was from the rear view.
“Aunt Sarah, Aunt Charlotte, what are you doing?” Mac asked as she approached the group. Carly could tell she was trying to sound casual like she wasn’t worried, but her gritted teeth gave her away.
“Reverse fly,” Aunt Sarah said. She tossed her silver bob with the vibrant red streaks in it. The gesture said duh clearer than words ever could.
Carly stood beside her friend as she interrogated her aunts, who, to their credit, paid Mac no mind.
Dressed in formfitting black yoga pants with long-sleeved tops that matched the funky colors in their hair—purple for Charlotte and red for Sarah—the two feisty ladies each held small hand weights that they brought forward in front of them before moving their arms back out to the side.
Barking Up the Wrong Tree Page 2
