“A pet pigeon?” He gave me a kind of deadpan look.
“Yes. Does someone also say you can’t have pet pigeons either?” I asked.
The vet and Ryan exchanged a brief look that, quite frankly, pissed me off a little.
“If your wife wants to take the pigeon home, then I have no objection,” the vet said, picking the bird up and passing it over to me.
“She’s not my . . . wife!”
“He’s not my . . . husband!”
We both said it at the same time, and so emphatically that the vet looked at us with a wide-eyed surprised look.
“Okay,” the vet said, slowly and deliberately, and then changed the subject. “Do you have a cage?” she asked.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to keep him in a cage,” I quickly added. “So cruel.”
“Are you just going to let it wander around your apartment?” Ryan shot me another look.
“Why not? It’s not a Great Dane. It’s a pigeon.”
“It will mess,” Ryan said.
“I’ll put newspaper down.”
“In your whole flat?”
“Why not?”
“You’ll cover your whole place in newspaper?”
“What’s the problem?”
“No problem. That just seems a bit ridiculous.”
“It’s not your place,” I quickly added.
We both stopped and turned when we heard a small chuckle from the vet. “For anotmarried couple you certainly argue like one.” She smiled at us and I felt my cheeks go hot and red.
“We’re running very late for work!” Ryan quickly broke the moment that was starting to feel very awkward. “Don’t you need seed or something?” He looked over at the vet, and she nodded. He pulled his wallet out and handed her a credit card.
“You can deduct it from my salary,” I said.
He shrugged. “It’s a pigeon. Not a Great Dane. I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
And with that, he strode out of the building as quickly as possible. I ran after him, clutching my new pet, and climbed into the front seat of his car.
He looked over at me and let out a peculiar moan-cum-sigh. “It’s not coming to work with us.”
He looked at the bird, and as if it knew what he was saying, it raised its head and cocked it to the side.
“Okay, take me home and I’ll leave it there.”
Ryan looked at his watch. “Can’t. We need to get to work. You’ll have to bring it, but I swear if it starts walking on desks and disrupting work, I’ll personally put it back on the side of the road.”
“He’ll behave, I promise.” I smiled at Ryan.
Our eyes locked for a brief moment and something rose inside me again. Something seemed to flicker on, ever so tentatively. And then he scrunched his face up in that disapproving manner, and it was gone. He started the ignition and drove off.
