Nora appears, wearing a small, guilty frown. “I ran you off, didn’t I?”
“Nah.” I drop my gaze down at my scuffed work boots. “Just needed to deal with my mug and get a refill.”
“So, you’re coming back out with me?”
I jerk my eyes back up to meet hers. Vulnerability shines bright. I may resent her, but I also feel a bit protective over her. Maybe it’s some misplaced sense of duty toward Goldie, or maybe I just don’t hate her as much as I want to.
“How about some breakfast? Do you ever slow down to eat that?” I ask, eyebrow hiked up. “Don’t tell me you’re a Micky D’s kind of girl.”
She laughs. “Actually, I don’t eat breakfast. Just coffee.”
“Sit down. You’re eating today.”
For once, the tiny woman doesn’t argue. Making breakfast gives me something to do. I enjoy cooking and liked when Goldie was here so I wasn’t always eating alone.
I hear a chirp and notice Clo sitting up on the refrigerator. He’s a sneaky little critter. Always shows up out of nowhere when food is cooking.
“Out of here,” I tell him. “I can’t trust you not to dive-bomb the hot skillet.”
“I’ll put him away.”
He throws up a bit of an argument but eventually lets Nora collect him. Once he’s safe inside his cage in her room, she returns.
“You’re good with him,” she says as she slides back into her seat at the bar.
I get some bacon frying and then set to cracking eggs. The air is thick with tension. It’s as if Nora wants to ask me something but can’t find the nerve. For as bratty as she was yesterday, I didn’t ever imagine that to be a problem for her.
“Okay, so I’m just going to address the elephant in the room,” she rushes out. “I’m sorry.”
I glance over my shoulder to frown at her. “For what?”
Her bottom lip trembles and I quickly turn my attention back to my eggs. I don’t like criers.
“For treating you the way I did.” She sniffles and chokes out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t know. About Grandma. Living here, I mean.”
My shoulders tense. Again, if she’d have thought to pay the old woman a visit or even ask, she’d know. Irritation keeps my teeth gritted together, unable to respond. I finish breakfast quietly. By the time I plate up our food, she’s watching me warily.
“She’d been here about a year,” I say, voice hoarse with emotion. “Needed my help.”
Because you and your mom weren’t there for her.
I don’t say those words though I truly want to.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I’m grateful she had you.”
I give her a clipped nod before tucking into my meal, inhaling it like it’s going to scurry off the plate.
“This is amazing. Where’d you learn how to cook so well?”
After devouring the rest of my food, I push my plate away and meet her gaze. “My grandma Dot’s been a waitress at The Budgie Café probably since the beginning of time. She’s learned a thing or two and taught me on summers when I was out of school with no babysitter. Spent a lot of time in that restaurant trying to stay out of trouble.”
Nora smiles as if she’s imagining the scene. It’s a boring one. Me and my siblings used to drive Grandma Dot insane because the café was dull compared to all the trouble we could get into on Wing Whirr Way if she’d cut us loose. She never did. We got stuck doing tasks she didn’t want to do like filling ketchup bottles, rolling silverware into napkins, or cleaning baseboards. Sometimes I think she just made crap up to keep us busy.
We clean up the kitchen together and the quiet is nice. I’d never admit it, but having someone around again sure curbs the utter loneliness that not even an aviary full of budgies can fill.
Once clean, she disappears to her room to get dressed. I slip outside to take care of the aviary chores. The budgies sing to me, all of them eager for more millet, greens, fresh water, and seeds. I clean up all their crap that they somehow manage to get into every crevice everywhere.
When I hear voices out front, I follow the sound, a little surprised to see Mom and Dad standing outside Dad’s truck. Nora, now dressed in a pair of cutoff denim shorts that show off long legs and a pink fitted T-shirt, talks to them, gesturing toward Goldie’s cottage.
