I cleared my throat. “Hi Mrs.—” and then froze, realizing I didn’t know her full name.
“Wisniewski,” Charlie whispered.
“Hi, Mrs. Wisniewski,” I finished.
“You call me Agata. Oh, look at those big, beautiful eyes. Much prettier in person. Well, through screen. Good job, Charlie. Good boy. He woo?” In the camera, the splotch of red spread up my neck as she spoke my praises.
“I’m trying to woo, Agata,” Charlie grumbled. “You’re cock-blocking. Oof.”
I elbowed him lightly. Well, I meant it to be lightly.
“I’ve never seen the woman gush so much in my life,” Charlie mumbled.
I ignored him but said to Agata, “He woo.”
“Good boy, Charlie.”
He bent and kissed the top of my head. “I want you to meet the kids,” he said to me.
“So soon?” With a hand to my chest, I did my best Jane Austen heroine impression. “What will they think of our compromising position, Duke of Chickenston?”
His eyes darkened and narrowed, but he didn’t seem annoyed. “Let’s circle back to that duke business later.” Louder, he said, “Agata, put the kids on.”
“Yeah, yeah, I go.”
The next shot shakily showed three brownish-ginger hens fluffed up and quietly sitting in a wooden cubby surrounded by straw. Wait. Two hens and one hen butt.
“Ugh. Freddy, dear, you’ve got yourself turned around again,” Charlie said with patient fondness.
I chuckled and saw Charlie looking adoringly at the screen. Look at us, two cozy lovebirds video chatting with a bunch of chickens and a cranky housekeeper across the world.
“Ah!” Agata squealed, followed by a flurry of camera shaking, flying feathers, and squawks. The phone blurred before a loud thump and the movement on screen went still. A tilted view showed the retreating form of a screaming Agata running away at full speed. Little woman could move. A big black and brown rooster had its plumage fully puffed up, wings extended as it chased after the poor housekeeper.
“Nugget!” Charlie yelled at the rooster. “Not nice.”
The rooster quickly gave up his chase and came back to the henhouse, where we still sat propped on the straw floor.
“Bad Nug!” Charlie yelled.
Rooster legs crossed in front of the phone.
“That wasn’t very nice, Nugget,” I said sweetly.
A red-eyed bird face popped up suddenly in front of the camera, filling the whole screen.
“Christ,” Charlie jumped.
“Hello, handsome,” I cooed.
Charlie frowned, glaring at the screen.
“I know you’re just trying to protect your ladies, but you can’t scare Agata like that. She feeds you, don’t forget.” I kept my voice soft and crooning as he tilted his head side to side in rapid movements, as though listening. “You’re a good boy,” I soothed.
“Christ, what are you doing to my cock?” Charlie groaned.
“You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you,” I said, ignoring Charlie, though quite enjoying how “cock” sounded in his rich accent.
Nugget’s feathers smoothed back down, and he pecked at the screen. “Good boy,” I repeated more softly.
