“It’s a damn shame,” Granny Mavis begins, thumping her cane on the floor. “One egg in three months. That bird eats better than I do and does nothing but shit and make a hellacious racket at three in the morning.”
McCarthy draws back. “Wait, do you honestly keep chickens that can’t lay eggs? What kind of farm is this?”
“Exactly!” Mavis rails. “In my day, a chicken that didn’t lay eggs got eaten. Have we had chicken pot pie? Have we had chicken noodle soup? Have we had chicken and dumplings?”
“I couldn’t possibly!” my mother cries, reaching for the chickens that are gathering around to peck for crumbs around her feet.
“I can butcher it for you,” McCarthy offers, reaching to unbutton his shirt.
“Take that one first.” Granny Mavis points at Edwina. “She pecks at my dog Magnum.”
Bombs fall. Tornado sirens blare.
I have an apocalyptic vision of McCarthy in that pristine white shirt, covered in blood, holding a headless chicken. Protests outside of RDC headquarters. People dressed up in inflatable chicken costumes, waving signs outside his penthouse building. Me sitting in front of Bethany as she fires me and tells me I can’t even get reimbursed for my accrued PTO.
“They are pets!” I scream, running into the fray. I snatch up Edwina. “Photo shoot is over! We’re leaving.”
“But you didn’t eat your goat cheese and grass.” The smirk is back.
“You only just got here. Stay for music circle. You can spend the night!” my mom begs.
“Cupcake, you can sing?” McCarthy’s eyebrows rise.
“I’d hope so, considering she can’t drive or get a decent man.” Granny Mavis harrumphs then waves her cane at the elderly residents, who are slowly stumbling toward McCarthy. “Back! Don’t scare him away, or he won’t come again.”
“He’s never coming back here,” I promise.
“Not even for the equinox?” my mom cries, running after us as I grab Truman, who was napping on McCarthy’s suit jacket, and drag him through the house, a herd of seniors behind us.
“I put a care basket in your car!” my mom calls from the porch.
“I’m a prisoner here!” Granny Mavis yells. “McCarthy, take me with you! I’m surrounded by imbeciles.”
11
MCCARTHY
“Look what happens when you cooperate.” I don’t even have to see my older brother to envision him leaning back in his desk chair. Smug. “Jenna actually made you look halfway human.”
“Asshole.” Though there’s not as much vitriol as there usually would be.
“Just think—if you can keep your act together for a few more weeks, this will all blow over.”
I hang up on him, mood ruined.
Jenna blows out a breath. We’re in the car, and it’s stuffed with homemade ancient-grain bread, jars of pickled vegetables, and jams with names like pokeberry sea cucumber.
“You can have as much of that as you want,” Jenna offers. “Nathan doesn’t like my mom’s food— or my mom.”
“Rack like that? Really?” I drawl just to annoy Jenna. “I don’t believe it. Nathan seems like a tits man.”
“And to think I believed you were actually turning over a new leaf.” Her hands clench on the wheel as she navigates the car onto the ferry.
That stung more than it really should have.
Screw her.
I don’t care what Jenna thinks. Jenna is trying to get pregnant by her worthless fiancé. She doesn’t know shit.
