A Man of Many Talons

by Vivienne Savage

  She threw her arms around each of us in turn, but lingered long enough to rub noses with me. Bunny kisses, we called them. Then she rushed upstairs to change.

  “Well, that went well,” Ian said. “Told you she’d be happy.”

  “I know. When that one cockatoo kept biting your fingers, I worried getting her a different type would upset her.”

  Ian grinned and tugged me in close, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. “Trust me, in a few days, she’ll forget she ever asked for a puffed-up bird with a mohawk.”

  “I sense some envy there.”

  “Pfft. I’m way more handsome.”

  “Yes, you are. So go get ready. I have to set the food out.”

  Waiting for him to leave the room seemed to take ages, but I toughed it out. The moment he was out of sight I sagged down on the couch and rubbed my side. Everything ached. Bloat had cramped my stomach to the point I didn’t even want to look at food, let alone prepare it. But for my little girl, I’d suffer through it.

  Her eighth birthday was going to be perfect.

  Ian

  I thanked God every day for the blessings that came to me when a single mother named Leigh gave me a chance. Over seven years had passed since the day I saw her sitting alone in a church pew, surrounded by resentful and judgmental people who hadn’t wanted her there.

  Now a lot of those ladies bent over backwards to kiss Leigh’s ass whenever we found the time to go down for a church service. At least two or three times a month, we dressed in our Sunday best, joined my grandmother, and sat together as a family at Quickdraw Baptist Church.

  Between our church visits, my teammates, my fellow law enforcement members, Leigh’s college buddies from Sam Houston State, and the pals Sophia made at school, we’d picked up enough genuine friends for her eighth birthday bash to swell with friendly faces. My grandmother lacked tolerance for the heat these days, but she’d helped Leigh make pitchers of lemonade for our guests and settled beneath the patio umbrella to listen to the children play.

  Her vision had been going for years, and she’d been legally blind since I met Leigh. These days, she could only see what was right in front of her face.

  While Leigh greeted visitors, I kept games going in the yard. Sasha and Isisa manned the in-ground pool for me, providing swimming lessons in red lifeguard swimsuits. On top of that, we had an archery station, a gauntlet of sprinkler activities, ring tosses, limbo, water balloons, Nerf bazookas, and a hundred water guns of all shapes and sizes.

  Sophia wanted me on her team.

  “That’s not fair! If Mr. MacArthur is on your team, we’ll all lose!” Mateo shouted. Russ and Dani’s son frowned at us.

  “The hell am I then? Chopped liver?” Russ demanded. “I can shoot, too.”

  Dani laughed from the art table she’d put together with Jada.

  “What? Why’s everyone laughing at me?”

  A loud guffaw escaped me. “I think we’re all trying to say your skills have gotten a little rusty over the years, old man.”

  “Old man? You’re older than me!”

  Sophia beamed. “You can be on my team with me and Daddy, Mateo.”

  Poor Russ.

  We split into teams of Red versus Blue for the Nerf battle, and of course, our Red team won due to my astounding leadership. Because we believed in childhood participation prizes in this household—they had all their fucking teen years to discover life wasn’t fair and adulthood had no honorable mentions—the only difference between our team and the losers was that we got first pick from the treat table.

  Sophia hadn’t morphed into a brat yet, so we had to be doing something right.

  “Y’all ready to hit this sprinkler gauntlet?” Taylor called from where he, Lyle, and Juni had erected something that looked like it belonged on American Ninja Warrior, an obstacle course and sprinkler maze complete with inflatable kiddie pools and monkey bars.

  I whistled. “You guys went all out over here.”

  He fist bumped me. “Go hard or go home, dawg. No reason not to be all we can be for the kids.”

  Juni exaggerated a loud groan in response to his use of the Army slogan. He’d been a sergeant at the time of his retirement after putting in his twenty years.

  Lyle snickered and clapped me on the back with his prosthetic hand. I stumbled forward a step, unprepared for the slap of metal between my shoulder blades. Then, because I was a man, I played it off like it was no big deal. “Glad to help. Was kind of fun rigging this thing up. I wish the triplets were old enough to run it with the other kids.”

  “Give it a couple years,” Juni chirped. She nudged his ribs with her elbow. “We’ll put together an agility course for you guys.”

  He scowled. “Only if you run it with us, Bunny.”

  While they carried on with friendly banter, I twisted around and searched for my wife on the patio. She’d refreshed the snack and refreshment stand for the kids and was sitting next to a cool misting station, fanning herself.

  Was it that hot?

  Leigh

  While Ian watched the children, I slipped away to fetch a fresh pitcher of lemonade from the fridge for them. My own reflection terrified me. In the patio doors, I saw a woman with flushed pink cheeks, hair in disarray and clinging to my perspiring brow. My middle looked wider than usual, and I was retaining enough water that my jawline had practically vanished. I looked thirty pounds heavier.

  I hurried inside. Instead of fetching chilly beverages for Sophia’s friends, I lurked beneath the vent and mopped my brow and under my neck with a paper towel.

  My husband stepped inside a few minutes later. “You okay?” Ian asked.

  “Just a little warm.”

  “Baby, you’ve been standing under the vent for ten minutes. The air conditioner is set to sixty-five.”

  I glanced at the ceiling. “It’s sluggish.”

  “I’ve stood here thirty seconds and I’m freezing,” he replied, eyeing me. “Is it the drugs?”

  “Probably. Hot flashes are a bitch, I guess. Doctor Kline warned me it was possible.”

  “Take a seat. I’ll stay out with the kids for a while.”

  “I’m—”

  “Got it.” Ian fetched the pitcher from the fridge and stepped outside, leaving me to huddle under the frozen vent and wait for the misery to end.

  Only a few more days, I told myself. A few more pills, a few more days of discomfort, and maybe this time we’d get lucky.

  “Leigh? You okay, sweetie?” Dani asked from behind me. She slid the door shut behind her.

  “Oh yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You sure? Your face is flushed. Maybe I should get Ian. Or Betty, if you’d rather.”

  “No, no, don’t do that. Don’t worry them. I’m okay, really. Doctor told me to expect some hot flashes, and it’s not that bad.”

  I couldn’t be hotter if I teleported to the surface of the sun.

  Concern etched Dani’s features with creases across her brow. Knowing my kitchen as well as her own, she headed straight for the drawer where I kept my clean dish towels and pulled one out. After wetting it under the faucet and wringing it out, she brought the damp cloth to me and held it against my forehead.

  “Thanks, that feels amazing.”

  “Have you been drinking water?” she asked.

  “Um…” Probably not as much as I should have.

  Once again, my friend came to the rescue, this time with a glass of water spritzed with lemon juice. Then she stood there, hands on her hips, and waited until I chugged it all down.

  “Better?”

  “Much. I think I’m good to go watch outside again.”

  “Well, take another glass of water with you. And eat something.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  Dani scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at me. We headed outside together and claimed seats under the patio awning. Sophia and her friends ran across the yard with water guns, their gleeful shrieks making me smile.

  “How ar
e you doing, Leigh?” Jada asked. She had the seat to my right, while Dani took the one to the left. Our husbands all stood around the grill, beers in hand, no doubt having a deep discussion about their latest gaming session.

  “I’m—” The lie hung in my throat. Instead of forcing a smile, I sighed and let my shoulders slump. “I feel like crap, to be honest.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. You should come by the spa, my treat.”

  “I couldn’t do that, Jada.”

  “Nonsense. My spa, my rules. What’s the point of being a masseuse if you can’t help out a friend in need? Besides, a massage will help relax you some. You’ve been tense all week.”

  A massage sounded heavenly, and there was no place better than Nirvana. “Thanks, Jada. I’d really like that.”

  “I’m totally booked up tomorrow, but how does Friday sound?”

  “Sophia can come over to our house,” Dani offered. “Mateo will happily play video games with her. I imagine with her help, he’ll add even more crap to his growing birthday wishlist. Russ spoils that boy.”

  Mateo was a year younger than Sophia, his birthday only two weeks away. The two were practically siblings, as much as they hung out together.

  “That’d be great.”

  My friends studied me, both wearing matching expressions of concern. Not that I could really blame them. Between my lackluster replies and sweaty face, I must have looked a hot mess. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind.”

  Dani leaned toward me and lowered her voice slightly. “Is the treatment going all right?”

  “I don’t know. Round one was a flop. I’m on round two of the meds.”

  “Oh hun, I’m sure it’s all gonna work out.”

  This time I did manage to force a smile. “Yeah, I’m sure it will.”

  7

  Leigh

  When I awakened the next morning, aching and stiff from a long day of chasing kids, playing party games, and hustling in the kitchen for our adult guests, Ian had already snuck out of bed.

  But the aroma of his pricy Arabica coffee lured me downstairs. Despite my rumbling tummy, I popped into the living room first to check on our nameless new family member.

  “Good morning,” I greeted the African Grey. He cocked his head, but otherwise remained on his perch. A quick peek into one of the dishes verified he already had fresh water. Later, as promised, I’d let Sophia help me make him a fruit and veggie salad. Maybe then we’d settle on a name.

  After making my way into the kitchen to make pancakes, I peeked into the yard and saw a pile of folded clothes on the patio table.

  Ian must have gone for an early morning flight… or to catch lunch for us. Sometimes, he swung by one of the many bodies of water nearby and plucked a fish or two out of the river for me to cook and clean, exciting spectators every time, since bald eagle sightings weren’t frequent in these parts.

  As predicted, Ian’s note greeted me on the fridge where he’d pinned it beside some of Sophia’s art. The girl took a sketchbook everywhere, especially on car trips.

  * * *

  Sweetheart,

  I’m fishing at Lake Livingston. Expect my return by afternoon, and call Bert Ramsay if there’s an emergency. He knows how to contact me by smoke signal. Love you.

  * * *

  Smoke signal? Really?

  Bert’s number concluded the message. Left to wonder if he was joking about the smoke signals, I popped open the fridge door and dragged out the ingredients for pancakes.

  And leftover birthday cake. Because I was an adult, and I could do what I wanted, I cut a slice of marbled vanilla and chocolate cake for myself to accompany my coffee. Mm. Sweet, delicious carbs. I sipped the latter then cut into the stack of buttercream.

  Once I finished making a respectable breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and even bacon for my little girl—though the latter was for me—we spent the morning in the living room with nameless bird watching Sailor Moon and My Little Pony.

  He eyeballed us from the open cage, shuffled his gray feet a few times, but never emerged.

  “Come on out, Moonfeather, I won’t hurt you.”

  “Did we pick a name?” I paused to watch Sophia attempt to lure him closer to her with a piece of grape. She’d dragged over the smaller travel cage we used to bring him home and set the fresh veggies in the holder on the top.

  “Uh huh. Prince Birdstein Moonfeather of the Grove.” I choked back a laugh while my daughter beamed at me. “Do you like it, Mommy?”

  By the grace of God, I did not burst out laughing at my child. “It’s a little long, don’t you think?”

  “Prince Moonfeather doesn’t mind. See? He fluffed up like Daddy does when he’s happy.”

  True enough, the parrot had fluffed out like a big gray cotton ball while watching us from his perch. He took the grape Sophia offered him into his left foot and scraped the tender insides out of the skin while watching us. Then his eyes drifted shut, and he looked so blissful he couldn’t be anything but happy. Good. I wanted him to be happy here in our home. He was growing on me, his company pleasant and little feathered face so adorable I wish he’d let us give him kisses.

  Goodness. Being mated to an eagle shifter had done something to me.

  “It’s a good name, sweetie. As long as you’re certain. We don’t want to change it a few days from now once he starts learning.”

  “I know. I wish he’d come outside.”

  “Give him time. He’ll come out, I promise. For now, what do you want me to make you for lunch?”

  “Macaroni!”

  The predictable answer made me laugh. Mac ’n’ cheese was a staple in our pantry, one of her favorite things to have. “Want me to reheat a hotdog to have with it?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Sometime soon, my little girl was going to have one hell of a growth spurt. I didn’t know how she could eat so much at breakfast and still have room for lunch.

  After setting a load of laundry to tumble, I prepped lunch, then popped into the living room to find Sophia reading to Moonfeather from the seat beside his cage. He hadn’t come out, but it made me proud to see her taking it in stride. Ian knew a lot about birds—being that he technically was one—and he’d told us the cage was the little guy’s safe space. Teaching Sophia to respect that was key. She put his fresh food inside his big cage and shut the door.

  After she ate, she asked to visit Mateo. Russ stayed home with the kids while Dani worked during the day at the local bank, so I dropped her off and headed out from there into town for groceries.

  No less than five people stopped me in the store to ask how things were going, if I was okay, and why I’d missed service last weekend. I claimed sickness, but the truth was I’d been too crushed to want to see anyone. When my period started, I knew I wouldn’t be able to put on a brave face for church.

  Fail #1001. Why had I expected differently that time or even this time?

  Expecting fish, I picked up all the ingredients I needed to make fisherman’s pie, as well as a backup—just in case. Ian still wasn’t home. When my text went unanswered and five o’clock came around, I popped a frozen casserole into the oven.

  My stomach grumbled, protesting my meager, ages-ago breakfast. Macaroni and hotdogs hadn’t appealed to me at lunch, and now that I was ravenous, waiting an hour for the casserole would be torture.

  I turned to face the glass doors leading to the patio just as Ian arrived with a big, heavy-looking bass clutched in his talons. He dropped the fish into a bucket I hadn’t noticed before, then landed on the cement.

  Wondering if he was aware of me admiring him, I watched my hubby preen the plumage on his chest then stretch out his wings before he transformed, gorgeous brown feathers becoming the rippling, suntanned skin of a man with a delectable body. I sighed and held a hand to my heart.

  Thank goodness he was as beautiful on the outside as his kind and wonderful heart. Though Ian had the kind of personality that I imagined would be easy to love even if he looked like a
gremlin.

  I grinned, just as he turned and noticed me at the window. He blinked and waved, then he slipped into his boxers before stepping inside.

  “Sorry, I’m so late. It was a good day for fishing. When I stopped in earlier, you weren’t around so I made a second trip.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll do fish tomorrow after I get back from my massage. How much did you get?”

  “About fifty pounds. Burt’s keeping the rest of it for me until I pick it up tomorrow.” He nodded toward the bucket. “We weighed that fish at nine.”

  “Nice.”

  He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “Wasn’t sure I’d get him home.”

  “But you did. Need a back rub?”

  “I’d love one. Where’s Sophia?”

  “With Dani, Russ, and their kiddos. She texted a little while ago to say they were going to hit up a movie in town and asked if she could sleep over.”

  “Oh. Well, that sounds fun. What are you making?”

  “Chicken alfredo.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “Thanks. Did you want carrots or broccoli to go with it?” I asked as I crossed to the freezer.

  A cold gust rushed out when I opened the door, bringing some much-needed relief to my warm face. Lately it seemed like I had a constant fever. For a moment, I lingered, taking my time in digging through for our veggies.

  “Can we do both?”

  “Sure.” I grabbed both bags and turned, which is when the kitchen spun around me.

  “Leigh?”

  A stumble sent me backward into the freezer door, and the carrot bag slipped from my fingers. I tried to grab the fridge to steady myself and staggered into it instead.

  “Leigh!”

  My vision went fuzzy around the edges. Ian’s alarmed expression blurred into a blob of whites and browns, then the floor rushed up to greet me.

  When I opened my eyes, the living room ceiling stretched above me. I lay on the couch with Ian knelt beside it. Even Prince Moonfeather appeared concerned. He leaned forward from his perch, staring at us through the bars.