Chirp.
I peel my gaze from the blonde and arch an eyebrow at my little green feathered friend sitting on the table beside me. He’s already devoured his millet. Now he’s curiously trying to climb onto my coffee mug. Last time I let him do that, he dropped a surprise in there for me. I had to make another cup.
With a grunt, I reach toward him with my finger out, so he’ll step up. “Who’s the lady, Cloverby?”
Cloverby, or Clo for short, cocks his head to the side. He doesn’t notice the woman yet since he’s too busy pestering me. It’s better than pouting in his cage. Been doing that a lot since Goldie passed.
And you’re any better?
You haven’t done any jobs since she went to the hospital.
I shove those thoughts away as I bring my bird friend to my face. He chirps again and then tries to eat my beard hair. Sometimes he’ll get a strand and yank. Hurts, too.
“Guess I better get back to work tomorrow, huh?” I say to him, hoping to distract him from trying to rip my beard off one hair at a time. “You’re going to be so bored without me.”
Clo is like all budgies. He’s tiny and fragile but has so much personality. We’ve gotten close in the past week. In fact, he’s hardly left my side. If I didn’t put him away in his cage at night, he’d probably try and sleep in the bed with me too.
The afternoon sun peeking through the trees warms my chest. It’s definitely not a fuzzy feeling of love for this little creature. Nope, not at all.
He chirps knowingly and then stretches, showing off his wing. Clo is like me. We enjoy slow, quiet moments like sitting on the back patio, enjoying our late-afternoon treats, and listening to wind chimes sing their familiar tunes.
The woman makes a pained wailing sound, finally alerting my budgie to her presence. He flaps his wings and then scuttles around my finger so he can look in her direction. And then he takes off.
“For fudge sake!” I hiss at my bird, noting that I’m keeping my mouth clean even with Goldie no longer here to remind me. That woman was a stickler about language, and it’s engrained in me now.
Clo doesn’t usually fly off, and always comes back, but for some reason he wants to check out the realtor lady. That makes one of us. I’d rather she just stick her sign in the front yard and leave.
Why, Elias?
I know exactly why and it irritates me. The thought of someone new moving into the house next door that’s always belonged to Goldie rankles me. I don’t like change. This one is huge. Having this woman with her fancy pink dress here is a reminder that it’s coming whether I want it to or not.
With a grumble under my breath, I pull my massive frame out of the rocker and rise to my feet. Clo made a pit stop on a tree branch and is now yelling in his birdie language at our visitor. She’s too busy bawling her eyes out to notice his antics. Not one to be ignored, he flings himself out of the tree and lands on top of her head.
And then she screams.
I stride over to them, my long legs quickly eating up the distance. Clo squawks in irritation when I snatch him in my large hand. His little green head pokes out and he bites my thumb.
“Mothersucker!” I snarl.
The blonde realtor lady stumbles a few steps away from me and my unruly bird, staring at me like I’m some sort of predator lying in wait. I just saved her silky golden hair from myliterallycrappy bird. The least she can do is not gape at me like I’m going to attack her.
You’re the town serial killer, though…
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.
“Just put your sign in the front yard and go,” I bark out, voice harsh and bordering on rude. “You’re disturbing the wildlife.”
She blinks her freakishly long eyelashes at me, sending tears flicking my way. “W-What?”
I make the mistake of scanning over her chest, looking for a name tag or some other identification, because she crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at me.
“Excuse you,” she snaps. “I have a boyfriend.”
My nostrils flare in irritation. “I wasn’t looking at—” I pinch the bridge of my nose with my free hand, ignoring a hollering Clo. “I’m just saying, do your realtor thing, and go.”
“Realtor thing?”
“Listen,” I continue with a shrug. “If you can’t handle it, I’ll make some calls. You’re clearly not from around here and I know just the person from Trust in the Cove Realty who could sell that house without you ever having to step foot in it again.”
