by Dixie Cash
“Bullshit, Sandi. How the hell does a damn bird know what fuck is? Or sex, for that matter?”
“My goodness, Richard, you think baby parrots just fall out of the sky?”
“You know what I mean,” Richard groused. “Besides that, I hate a damn bird knowing my private life. And repeating it.”
Sandi continued to dab away tears of mirth. “You scared me to death, by the way. I didn’t hear you come in. I haven’t even had time to shower.”
“It’s no wonder.” He shot another disapproving glare at Jake. “I called out to you, but it’s hard to be heard over your critters.”
Richard’s attitude about her pets was just one of the reasons Sandi’s relationship with him might never go further. Though he had casually talked about getting married, she doubted she would ever marry him even if he became serious. If he had more power over her, he would complain even louder about her pets, might even try to make her get rid of them. She would never admit it aloud, but her animals were more important to her than Richard. And her deepest self knew that was no way to start a marriage.
She gave him a peck on the cheek, “Oh Richard, don’t be a grump. I’m glad to see you.”
Jake fluffed his feathers and cocked his head. “Wanna fuck? Wanna fuck?”
“Don’t be surprised to find that sonofabitch missing one of these days,” Richard griped. He turned to Jake and pointed his finger at his beak. “You hear that, you mouthy bastard? Hear that? You could come up missing.”
“Richard, you’re talking to a bird,” Sandi reminded him.
“What did your aunt say? Is she going to take him?”
“I think so. She says her husband will love him. But I swear, I’m going to miss him.”
“Good riddance, I say. How soon can you get rid of him?”
Jake ruffled his feathers and squawked. “Help! Nine-one-one. Nine-one-one.”
“When she has time to come and get him,” Sandi said, starting for the kitchen. “Come on into the kitchen. Are we eating out or in?”
“Don’t leave me,” Jake screeched. “I’ll talk. I’ll talk.”
“No time to eat,” Richard said. “I just stopped by to say hello. I’m headed home to change into something more comfortable. I’ll grab something there and go back to the office.”
“You work too hard, Richard. I’ve hardly seen you in weeks.”
“I know. And I promise to make it up to you.” He caught up with her and kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s this case. I’ve been reading and re-reading the arrest reports. I think I’m onto something—”
“Oh, no.” Sandi looked squarely at him. “I hope it isn’t a way to get that monster off.”
Richard sighed deeply. “We’ve been over this too many times, Sandi. My job—”
Sandi raised her palms and stopped him. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything, but Fiona did Mrs. Bean’s hair. She says she was one of the sweetest women she knew.”
“I’m not paid to argue that, Sandi. I’m paid to make sure the man accused of killing her gets a fair trial.”
Sandi bit her bottom lip. It was pointless to continue with this argument. Richard was undaunted in his defense of John Wilson. He couldn’t change his position and Sandi wouldn’t be moved from hers.
“Honey,” he said softly, moving closer to where she stood, “this whole thing will be over in a matter of weeks. Maybe less. Let’s make a plan to get away to San Antonio or Santa Fe. Or maybe down to the coast. How about St. Thomas? Wherever you want.”
Instantly, Sandi thought of her animals. If she were gone for an extended period, who would take care of them? “I’d love to go anywhere with you, Richard. You know that. But we can talk about it later. You’d better go on home so you can get back to work. The sooner you get that trial over, the better.”
Sandi let him pull her close. Richard planted a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re right about that. I’ll call you later.”
As he drove away, Sandi stood at the door watching, the same question she had dismissed so many times going through her mind. Could her relationship with Richard Townsend withstand John Wilson’s murder trial? And if it did, what about the next trial?
***
“It’s Raining Men” by the Pointer Sisters interrupted Sandi’s TV surfing. Grinning broadly, she keyed into the call on her cell phone. “Aunt Ed! What a great time for you to call.”
“It is? Why?”
“My boyfriend just left and I’m alone. I can’t think of anyone who can cheer me up more than you.”
“Well, thanks, hon. Listen, you still looking for a home for that parakeet, the one that talks?”
“You mean the African Grey. He’s a parrot, Aunt Ed. Not a parakeet.”
“Whatever,” Edwina said. “Birds are birds.”
“Well, not exactly,” Sandi replied, glancing in the direction of the Jake’s room and biting down on her lower lip. Dammit, she hadn’t intended to get attached to him.
Of course, she had that attitude in the beginning with every one of her foster pets, but after a few weeks or months, she hated to see them go. Ultimately, a good and loving home was what she wanted for all of them, including Jake. She was convinced being a foster parent to an animal—or fowl—and then letting them move on carried the same emotional upheaval that parting from a child would. Love was love, two legs or four. Or in Jake’s case, two large feet and a dirty mouth.
“I do have to find a home for him, but I’m particular about where he goes. You know me, Aunt Ed. I get attached and—”
“Now don’t get upset, hon. It won’t be going that far. You can come to see it any time. I can’t wait for Vic to see it. Is it still cussin’ with every other breath?”
“I’m afraid so. I’ve tried to break him, but I haven’t had a lot of luck. Sorry.”
“No problem. I think it’ll remind Vic of his days in the Navy.”
Sandi couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the foul-mouthed fowl than a former sailor. The fact that she would still get to visit Jake was a plus.
“He’s picked up some new words, but he hasn’t forgotten the old ones. I hope that won’t —”
“Perfect.” Edwina said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Vic will think he’s talking to one of his old Navy buddies. Can I come get him tomorrow? The landlocked sailor is out of town and I want to surprise him when he comes back.”
Sandi’s heartbeat picked up, but she had been through this before and knew it would pass. She was born to be a mother and like all good mothers, seeing one of her children leave made her anxious.
“Sure, tomorrow is fine.”
“After lunch?”
“Perfect, see you — Wait, Aunt Ed. My helper is going to mind my store tomorrow so I can have a day off. I could ask her to also babysit Waffle and I could bring Jake down to Salt Lick. Maybe I could get my hair trimmed while I’m down there.”
“You sure could, hon. I just happen to know somebody who’s an expert at trimming pretty long red hair.”
Sandi hung up, went to Jake’s room and opened the door. “Looks like you’re getting a new home tomorrow, Jakey. But you don’t mind, do you?”
He gave no reaction. As far as Sandi could tell, he was devoid of emotion or affection. She walked into the room and extended her hand. “Come to mama. It’s almost time for me to open the store. Time for school. Time for your vocabulary lessons.”
“Awrrk! Hate school, hate school.”
Hmm. Maybe he wasn’t devoid of emotion.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Edwina was already at the Styling Station when Debbie Sue arrived. “Hey, Ed. Early appointment?”
“Nope. I got up early to watch my TV show on Netflix. It ended, so I just came to work. It’s lonesome in that trailer house without Vic.”
“I wish you’d stop calling your home a trailer house, Ed. It’s a beautiful double-wide. It’s bigger and prettier and more modern than the old house I live
in.”
Just then, the cowbell on the front door clattered and Burma Johnson came in. She seated herself at Debbie Sue’s station and Debbie Sue covered her shoulders with a black plastic cape. “What are we doing today, Burma?
“Just the usual, honey.”
Debbie Sue walked her back to the shampoo room. They soon returned and Debbie Sue began to dry and style Burma’s hair.
Edwina plopped into her styling chair, crossed her long skinny legs and began swinging her foot.
“Ooh, your shoes,” cried Burma. “I love them. Wherever did you get them?”
Edwina stuck out her leg and flexed her foot, showing off the straw platform sandals with bunches of glittery butterflies adorning the toes.
“Online. Butterflies on my toes. Cute, huh?”
Debbie Sue stuck out a foot covered by a Tony Llama boot. “Mine might not be cute, but they’re comfortable. And I can walk, even run, when I’m wearing them.”
“Where am I gonna run to?” Edwina asked.
“You never know when you’re going to have to run,” Debbie Sue replied solemnly.
Burma laughed heartily.
“Guess what, Burma,” Edwina said. “I’m getting a talking parrot for Vic. It cusses like a sailor. Won’t that be a hoot?”
“I’ll say.” Burma tilted her head for Debbie Sue’s convenience. “You know anything about taking care of a bird like that?”
“What’s to know?” Edwina blew a bubble that hid her face, then sucked it back into her mouth. “You give ’em seed and water. Easy enough, right?”
“Seed?” Debbie Sue gave Burma a wink in the mirror’s reflection.
Burma piped up right on cue. “Those talking birds are a whole other breed of fowl. They don’t eat seeds. They’re carnivorous.”
“That’s right,” Debbie Sue added. “I looked it up on the Internet last night.”
Giving them the squint-eye, Edwina halted the swing of her foot. “Okay, you two. What the hell do they eat, dogs and cats?”
“Spiders. The big hairy kind.”
Edwina gasped, got to her feet and straightened to her full five-feet-nine, standing tall on her platform sandals. “No, they don’t. Everybody knows birds eat seeds.”
Debbie Sue assumed a serious expression. “But this is an exotic bird.” She blasted a cloud of spray net on Burma’s silver hair.
Burma turned in front of the mirror and petted her new hairdo. “Debbie Sue’s right. Spiders are what they eat. Big, hairy, live spiders.”
Debbie Sue unclasped the cape from around Burma’s neck. “Yes, ma’am. That’s what they eat.”
“You mean tarantulas?” Edwina huffed a loud gasp. “Oh, hell no, I’ll burn that trailer house to the ground before I bring live tarantulas into it.”
She picked up her phone, pressed a number, waited a few seconds, then shouted, “Sandi! This is your Aunt Ed again. Listen, honey, I can’t take that bird after all. Sorry to have bothered ... No, honey, it’s the tarantulas. Fuckin’ live tarantulas in my house. I can’t even think about it without getting queasy.”
Debbie Sue hid a grin while following Burma to the payout counter. One of the pleasures in her life was giving Edwina a hard time every chance she got. She felt no remorse for the orneriness. It was a game she and Edwina had always played and the very cornerstone of their tight relationship.
Debbie Sue said to Burma, “Sweetie, do you want me to put you down for next week, same time?”
“Honey, I’m talking about the ones they eat,” Edwina said into the phone. “If Jake finds them, that’s great, but I’m guessing when he can’t find treats, I have to provide them myself and there is no way in hell...”
Burma kept her eyes on her purse and Debbie Sue bit her lip as Edwina paused. “They don’t? Are you sure? Debbie Sue was telling...”
Debbie Sue burst into laughter. Burma, too, laughed so hard, she couldn’t find her money in her purse.
Edwina scowled in Debbie Sue’s direction. “Never mind, Sandi. I think some people are having a good time at my expense. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Edwina paused again, then said, “Of course. I understand, darlin’. I know you get attached to all of your animals. You’ve told me several times.”
Edwina disconnected. “Okay, you two. Sandi just told me he eats vegetables.”
Burma squelched another laugh.
“You’re going to get him this afternoon?” Debbie Sue said. “I am not going with you. Don’t even ask. I’ve got things I need to do.”
“Just cool your jets, smarty-pants. She’s bringing him down here. But if I wanted you to go with me, you damn should would. That’s the price for scaring the shit out of me.”
“Ed—”
“That’s my last word on the subject,” Edwina said, raising her palm like a traffic cop. She picked up a lollipop and peeled off the wrapper. “Haven’t you ever heard pay back is hell?” She stuffed the red bulb of candy in her mouth.
***
Sandi’s go-to employee, Betty Ann, came in early on Thursday mornings to start on the cooked dog and cat food. That way, they could make sure the cases were filled with plenty of freshly-made goodies for which pet owners could shop on the weekend and Sandi wouldn’t have to try to do it while customers browsed in her store. The other employee, Jessica showed up late morning to help Betty Ann and watch the store in the afternoon so that Sandi could have a day off.
After lunch, Sandi gave Jessica some last minute instructions, then drove home. She gathered all of Jake’s treats, toys and other paraphernalia and loaded all of it in the back of her SUV. Next, she put Jake in the travel cage she had bought for him and belted it onto the SUV’s cargo area.
As she motored southwest toward Salt Lick, Texas, the parrot sat on the trapeze swing in his cage, squawking or whistling occasionally. She didn’t know what those sounds meant, but she assumed he was happy and liked the car ride. She opened one of the back windows slightly so he could enjoy the crisp fall air.
She looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Hey, Jake. How does that fresh air feel?”
Jake screeched an uneven rendition of “God bless America, land that I love...”
Those were the only words he knew of the song, but each time he sang them, Sandi sang with him. Man, she was going to miss him.
Soon Jake grew tired of singing. “Where’s Waffle? Where’s Waffle?” he squawked.
Being separated from Waffle these days was rare, but Sandi had reluctantly left him at home in case the other animals might need his company to compensate for Jake’s absence. He was good to keep everyone out of mischief.
From behind her, the roar of a large motor caught her attention and she glanced into the rear view mirror. A big gray pickup was way too close to her back bumper.
To her surprise, she recognized the driver’s silhouette—broad shoulders, cowboy hat. Nick Conway. What was he doing on this highway? He must have bought a new pickup. The vehicle behind her wasn’t the wreck she had seen him in before.
“Crap.” She glanced again in the mirror, but this time, she took a critical look at her hair and makeup. At the same time, she chastised herself for such teenage behavior, for even caring about how she looked. He hadn’t noticed her the day they met in the Pampered Pooch and a chance encounter on a highway would mean nothing. He would pass her without a glance. Even if he did glance, he probably wouldn’t recognize her.
Sure enough, he did just that, his bigger engine growling like a mad cat. He never so much as glanced her way, “Why would he?” she muttered to the air. “I’m just another car on the road.”
Jake let out a squawk.
Coming out of a sharp blind curve, Sandi met a large Hereford cow and her calf standing in her lane and blocking her path. She slammed on the brakes, swerved to the shoulder and stopped. The cow looked at her with lazy eyes.
Luckily, she had slowed for the curve, but what if some driver behind her didn’t? He or she would plow into the pair, which could result
in the death of the animals and possibly the driver. She looked in her side mirror at the two of them still standing in the middle of the road seemingly without a care in the world.
“What am I going to do, Jake? I can’t just let them get run over. And why in the hell didn’t Mr. GQ Cowboy stop and get them off the road? What an asshole.”
“Mr. GQ Cowboy,” Jake squawked. “What an asshole. What an asshole.”
She killed her SUV’s engine, stepped out and eased toward the cow and calf, making a palms up shooing gesture with her hands. She hadn’t taken a dozen steps before her feet began to burn. She was wearing thong sandals that weren’t the ideal footwear for hot asphalt, but she couldn’t let defenseless animals stand at risk in the middle of the highway. “Shoo, mama. Move now. Come on.”
The cow continued to look at her with blank brown eyes and stood perfectly still. Sandi stamped a hot foot against the pavement and clapped her hands. “Get off the road! Hurry! Hurry!”
The cow lifted its head and bawled, but didn’t move its feet. The calf bleated.
Why didn’t the damned things move? Exasperated, Sandi hung her head.
“What an asshole. What an asshole,” Jake piped from back in the SUV.
The engine’s loud growling sound split the air again. Sandi looked frantically at the cow and calf, then toward the sound. The pickup that had passed her moments before was barreling backward toward her at the same speed it had been traveling forward, the driver expertly handling the wheel. It stopped on the shoulder only feet away, the door opened and Nick Conway stepped down.
He strode back to the pickup bed, lifted out a lariat and walked toward her, forming a loop as he came. “We meet again. Best move back and let me do this.”
He continued past her, toward the cow and calf.
She should slip into a Scarlett O’Hara flirty mode and say something cute and charming, but instead of acting coquettish, she couldn’t keep from being hostile. After what alpha men had put her through, they had that effect on her.
She lifted a defiant chin and hollered behind him. “I’m not afraid of a cow. I’ve been around cattle my whole life.”
