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“There are also two couches.”
“But they’re right in the middle of the living room, and I’d rather be out here and have some privacy. I seem to remember being promised that when I agreed to come along on this trip.”
“Take the master bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said.
“I’m fine out here. Go inside and enjoy your fourteen million dollar tiny bungalow.”
“On eight acres. That part’s key.”
“Yes, what a bargain. Only one million, seven hundred and fifty thousand per acre. I’m sure they weren’t laughing all the way to the bank.”
“You know what? Sit out here and freeze if you want to. It’s your choice.” He turned to the chicken and said, “Come on, Lo-Lo, let’s go to the kitchen and Daddy will give you a mango.” The chicken stared at him for a moment, and then she ran over to me. I grinned as he muttered, “Traitor,” and went back inside.
I spent some time that evening setting up my temporary living space. I’d tried to play it off, but it actually was pretty cold. Fortunately, I found a patio heater in a seating area around the side of the house, and I located a couple of spare blankets and pillows in an armoire in the living room. I also realized one of the sofas folded out into a bed, but I was determined to stick with my plan.
The corner of the porch where I set up camp was partly shielded from the wind by a huge tree. I added an additional windbreak by hanging one of the blankets. Then I augmented the overhead lighting by bringing a couple of lamps outside and running a long, orange extension cord into the living room. The end result was a pretty great little oasis.
Between the windbreak and the patio heater, the temperature was comfortable to me. I was worried about the skinny little chicken though, so I found my gray knit cap with red trim, cut three holes in it for her head and wings, and slipped it onto her. It was a remarkably good fit. I grinned and told her, “You look like you’re wearing a sweater vest. I wish I had a red bow tie for you, because it would be a great finishing touch.” Then I wondered when exactly I’d started talking to chickens.
Sometime later, Harper stuck his head out the back door and frowned. The rain was coming down steadily, and I was under a thick duvet on the hammock with a paperback in my hand and the chicken on my chest. He asked, “Are you really sticking with this Swiss Family Robinson outdoor living bullshit?”
“Yup.”
“Why is Loco dressed like a nerd?”
“Don’t judge her.”
After a beat, he said, “I’m going into town to check out the nightlife, if any.”
“Good luck with that.”
He lingered in the doorway for a few seconds, and then he muttered something under his breath and went inside. A few moments later, I heard the front door open and close, and I glanced at the time on my phone. He’d barely lasted two hours in his alleged quest for rest and relaxation.
“Let’s place bets,” I told the chicken. “I say he bails out by this time tomorrow and returns to the mainland. What do you think?” Loco bobbed her head a couple of times, and I said, “You think he’ll last two days? That’s pretty optimistic. Of course, he might stick it out to try to prove a point, but his constant need for stimulation will win out sooner or later. There are none of his usual fallbacks, like parties, or video games, or loud, obnoxious friends to provide a distraction.”
Loco bobbed her head again, and I said, “Nice to see you agree with me. Come on, let’s go inside and make some dinner.”
I plugged my phone into an outlet when we reached the kitchen, and then I took a look around and pulled some things from the fridge. The housekeeper had thoughtfully provided a huge bowl of local produce, so I diced up a slice of mango and put it on a paper plate for my companion before making us sandwiches for dinner.
The chicken and I were just finishing our meal when Harper returned. He was soaking wet and covered in mud, and I said, “So, that obviously went well.”
“Yeah, it was great.” He started stripping off his clothes and piling them beside the front door as he told me, “The SUV got stuck in the mud over halfway down that dirt road, so I had to abandon it and walk back.”
“Awesome.”
“I’ll figure out how to free it tomorrow.” Once he’d stripped down to just his briefs, he came into the kitchen, rifled around in the cabinets, and found a bottle of tequila. He took it with him as he headed across the living room muttering, “I can’t for the life of me remember why I thought buying a house in a remote corner of Kauai would be a good idea. Seriously. What was I thinking?” He disappeared into the master suite, and after a minute, I heard a shower running.
