Honey, my ass.
I shot him the bird with my other hand and burst through the door, crashing into his father and bouncing backward to hit the frame of the door with a painful thud. “Sugar, are you okay?”
“Fine. Just fine, excuse me,” I snapped and tried to get around him.
“Dad, stop her!” Charlie shouted.
“No, son, let her go. We have business to attend to. You can handle her later.” His words were dark as he stepped aside to let me pass. I ran through the lawn toward my truck parked at the curb. Wind swirled suddenly with sleet and bits of hail, chilling me to the bone as I crunched through the grass, which was already spiky with ice, but all that cold did nothing to quell my now-boiling temper. I tended to run hot when riled up and Charlie and his stupid mother had pissed me off real good. I knew better than to fall for the likes of him. He was slippery smooth and charming like a used car salesman. Charlie was all surface, no substance. My mama always said never trust a man too slick to hold on to.
Stupid, Anna.
The drive home was a blur. After slamming to a fast and furious stop accompanied by a satisfying spray of gravel from the driveway, I hopped out of the truck. One glance at the sky had me fully alarmed by the oddly changing weather as I hustled to the back porch. When I reached the safe confines of the mud room, I finally allowed myself to inhale a deep breath. The scent of what had felt like home the second I stepped foot through the front door calmed my racing heart. I’d inherited this sprawling farm from my grandmother, a woman who, until three months ago, I hadn’t even known existed. I felt almost safe again as Grandmother Jean’s cats sidled up to wind their way through my legs and greet me with purrs and meows. They lived in the huge, old fashioned farmhouse that was now my favorite place to be.
I wished I would have been able to meet her, but my mother had led me to believe my father had no family and I grew up lonely with just my mom. I knelt to stroke their soft fur. The two midnight black and one striped gray tabby cats, Roger, Spock, and the oddly named Jeff Bridges, had become my best friends, turning me into a happy cat lady since moving to Stars Crossing a little over three months ago.
I stood. “Hey guys, who’s ready to get wasted on hot cocoa and Peppermint Schnapps? It’s movie time.” The three little weirdos stood at attention, heads tilted toward the living room. “Well, all right. Let’s get to it.” After shrugging out of my coat, I kicked off my boots and opened the dryer, stripping out of my soggy sweater dress and tights as I rummaged for something comfy to wear. I let out an ironic giggle as my hand settled on the soft material of my Grinch pajamas. These would suit my mood just fine.
“Leftover Christmas cookies andIt, here we come,” I mumbled as I led my pathetic cat parade into the kitchen. “It’s time to get fucked up and imagine banging Bill Skarsgård in a clown costume . . .”
A sudden bolt of thunder rattled the windows in their frames and had me jumping in my tracks. “Holy shit! That was a close one,” I gasped, clutching my chest as I reached for the kettle to start some water for the cocoa. I peered out the window above the sink. If it was sleeting during my drive home, why was it thundering? Shouldn’t there be snow by now?
I studied the yard outside. Beyond the window it was black as midnight and yet it was not even dinnertime. With a shudder, I drew the curtains shut and slunk back to the stove. I loved it here, but every once in a while being alone in the midst of this huge farm gave me a serious case of the creeps. The edge of town was a few miles away on one side of the pasture, but the rest of the property was surrounded by dense forest, mountains, and a vast amount of nothingness through which a lonely private road branched off the highway to wind its way through the rough terrain toward the farm. To say I was isolated out here was an understatement.
“Oh my god!” I squealed as the tea kettle screeched at me on the stove. My eyes darted involuntarily around the kitchen before landing to the trio of cats sitting in the arched entrance leading into the living room. They watched me, heads moving side to side in unison at my movements. “Don’t judge me. I had a day,” I grumbled as one by one they darted out of the room. “Whatever.” The quiet of the house echoed in my ears after they left. Despite their sometimes judgy silence, they were good company. I grew tempted to head out to the barn and sit with the weird menagerie of animals my grandmother had rescued over the years; anything to rid myself of this quiet which had become oddly oppressive. Marv, the llama with a grouchy attitude, was always good for a laugh, and Audrey, the sweet Golden Retriever, should be making her way to the doggy door at any moment to spend the night in the house.
“Eff this.” I quickly prepared a mug of packet cocoa and spiked it with a huge dose of Schnapps. “Quit being a wuss.” I snagged the cookie jar and stomped my way to the living room. With a flick, the sexy white face of Pennywise the clown filled the TV screen and I settled into the sofa with my treats, letting the spooky dark outside escape my mind until I was tipsy and wondering if clown makeup was make out proof. Occasionally, I glanced at the picture window across the room to watch the snow fall to the ground beyond the covered wraparound porch. As if compelled to do so, I stood to gaze out the window at the now peacefully falling snow, placing my hand against the glass for a closer look.
A squawk from the aviary in the corner told me my grandmother’s insane parrot was awake. “Take a picture, it will last longer,” he told me when we locked eyes.
“You’re such a smartass, Alf.” Along with the rest of the weirdness out here, my grandmother’s bird seemed to only speak in 1980’s catchphrases.
“I know you are but what am I?” he replied.
“Future buffalo wings?” I retorted as I stumbled into the kitchen for another refill.
“Kiss my grits.”
I almost took out his aviary skidding on my socks to get back to it. “What did you just say?”
He bobbed his birdie head and hopped up to his highest perch. “What are you going to do about it, punk?” He screeched again just as a bolt of lightning hit somewhere close, plunging the house into darkness.
“Ahhhh!” I whirled to the window, which was now the only light source. Something was out there. I squinted at the figure frolicking and kicking up snow in the pasture. “Marv? Is that you? That dang, fluffy little turd mullet.Argh! I should leave your llama ass out there to freeze.”
“How rude!” Alf screeched and turned his back on me.
“Oh, like you want to go outside in the freezing cold with me, Alf.” Who was I right now, arguing with a freaking parrot?
“No more drinking. Not ever again . . .” I muttered to myself as I stuffed my feet into the snow boots that had been left by the front door. I had yet to buy myself a pair. After shrugging into my jacket, I stuffed a flashlight in my pocket and reached above the door for the rifle.
Alf’s annoyingly apropos squawk halted me in my tracks. “You’ll shoot your eye out!”
“Shut-up, Alf!” I unplugged my phone from the charger and stuffed it in my other pocket before heading out the front door with a slam.
