Despite the humiliation from Denver’s stunt, he’s not a bad guy. Maybe a bit unrealistic, but definitely not bad. I don’t want him to get in trouble over me. He just needs to go back home to New York.
“My brother’s a tough nut to crack, but you broke him.” Jessi glowers at me. “Congratulations.”
I sigh heavily and then turn to meet her hardened stare. “It was all a misunderstanding. I don’t want Denver. For some reason, I’m sweet on your grumpy brother. Can I please have your support rather than animosity? It’s already hard enough. I don’t know what to do. I don’t even have a car.”
It hurts knowing he left me here at BudgieFest. I’m not truly abandoned because his parents or sister or any of the people I’ve befriended since coming here will take me back. But I want it to be him.
“I have an idea on how to make your ex leave,” Jessi says as she nonchalantly picks at her nails. “Depends on how badly you want him gone.”
I gape at her in shock. From all outward appearances, she’s a sweet mom of two. But, when it comes to protecting her family, she’s quite a momma bear. Or in this case, a big sister bear.
“I don’t want to hurt him,” I hiss out. “He’s hurting enough as it is.”
“And so are you,” Jessi states. “He can go lick his wounds somewhere else. Not where he can keep you in his peripheral.”
We pause our scheming to help a couple who wants to buy a cage for their two new budgies. So far, we’ve sold a lot. This is a great income producer for Elias. My marketing brain wonders how we could turn this into a year-round gig for him.
“So, what are you thinking?” I ask when the couple leaves, but Denver is still watching me like a kicked puppy.
Her devious grin is back. “Let me call my brother Corbin. He and his firefighter buddies might have some ideas.”
“That sounds scary,” I say with a frown.
“Nah. Just some good ol’ fashioned BudgieFest shenanigans. We’ve all been the recipient at some point in our lives.”
At least it’s not harmful, but I’m still nervous. Jessi is way too excited and her eyes gleam with mischief. I don’t have the energy to argue with her, though. It’s been a rough day, and the perpetrator is sitting fifty feet away when he should be on his way to the airport.
“Fine,” I grumble. “But they better not hurt him.”
She makes an exaggerated motion of crossing her heart and then she gets her brother on the line. There’s lots of whispering, some giggling, and then a cheerful holler before she hangs up.
“It’s done,” she says with smug finality like she’s a mafia boss who just ordered a hit.
Dear God, please don’t let that be true.
We get another wave of customers, so we stay busy for a bit. Then we hear it. The firetruck’s siren. My heart hammers wildly in my chest. People crane their necks, looking for the source of the commotion. When the sirens stop, it only takes about a minute for a handful of firefighters dressed in their pants, boots, and red suspenders over white BBFD T-shirts to come storming past.
Jessi claps happily and cheers them on.
A crowd forms and I can no longer see so I step up onto the table. It wobbles underfoot, but I manage to keep my balance.I’m like a rubbernecker at a car accident as I watch the chaos unfold. One firefighter has a bucket of something. Another carries a garbage bag full of something else. When they reach Denver, he frowns at them in confusion.
Then, the firefighter who resembles Elias, and who must be Corbin, lifts the bucket over his head and dumps it on Denver. In an instant, his hair and expensive clothes are dripping in what looks like syrup. Before I can process that, another guy steps forward and dumps the contents of the bag next.
Feathers.
What must be thousands of them and multitudes of colors.
They cling to the syrup like it’s their only job in life.
Denver is no longer the cool city slicker who schmoozed his way onto the stage with the mayor. He’s the laughingstock of the festival. The entertainment. It’s his turn to be humiliated in front of everyone.
One of the other firefighters holds up a printed T-shirt. On the back in big red letters, it says, “I’ve been syruped and feathered at BudgieFest!” He tosses it at Denver, and it lands on the sticky mess on his thigh.
The firefighters leave as quickly as they arrived.
All that’s left is the amusement of the crowd.
And laughter.
