AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Birdie watched in stunned silence as Erma popped out of her chair with her hand to her chest, as if called for triage duty, and ran into the kitchen.
Then she noticed Pinkie, as usual, sitting at the helm of the table beside a smiling Lorraine and next to her a concerned Cora Leigh.
There were about five other women she recognized but couldn’t quite put names to, as Willa Mae ushered her by the arm to a chair. There Cora Leigh removed the empty plate in front of her and replaced it with one heaping with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast.
Before she could pick up her fork, a cold damp towel was firmly placed on her forehead by Erma, making her sit back in her chair. She moved the towel a little farther north so she could see and wondered if she had stepped in some cosmic sinkhole and was roaming an alternate universe.
“Your friend here is quite the storyteller,” Lorraine said with a knowing grin toward Angus, who leaned against one of the delicate antique chairs, his cheeks rosy and his red hair standing straight up.
“And he’s wearing a kilt,” Birdie said. Her head tilted and her eyes widened toward the man of the hour, indicating that he was over-the-top and had some explaining to do.
“I shared but a blether or two about our wee one.”
“Mia?”
“No, lass. Aboot yae.”
“Me?”
Pinkie spoke up, probably the only person who could have pulled the roomful of attention away from a burly Scot… in a kilt. “He told us all about your awful stepsons and how they pitted your own company against you, and don’t even get me started on the corrupt media coverage.”
Birdie twisted her lips to the side as she stared down Angus. “I thought I was early for breakfast, but I guess I was late.”
“Doanae fash yerself, lassie. Better late than early wi’ the angels.”
A woman tittered behind her hand to the woman next to her, “He called us angels.”
The other woman responding with, “He looks just like the handsome Scottish devil on thatOutlandershow.”
Birdie removed the towel and placed it on the table, thinking that statement true if there weren’t a blatantly obvious forty-year age span between the two.
Pinkie’s glass tinkled as she tapped her fork against the crystal to capture everyone’s attention.
“The emergency meeting of the Pinkie Posse is to commence. Before we get into the minutes of last week’s meeting, I want to introduce you to the woman who has agreed to do that TikTak thing and put us all on the social media screens.”
A dozen eyes turned Birdie’s direction.
“Um, everyone here knows me. And I hate to cut this short, but I have to pick up my daughter before Lucas leaves for work…”
Angus spoke up, much to her chagrin. “Yon stay here for yer hen party. I’ll goanae get our wee Mia.”
“Angus MacGavin, I need to go with you because you don’t know how to get there,” she insisted. Again, with the big eyes.
He lifted his hand with a Post-it note. “Darlin Erma here, took care of that by pennin’ the mayor’s address.”
“Oh goodie,” Birdie said with no enthusiasm.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “If ye wanna freen be a freen.”
Birdie responded by jabbing her elbow into his side.
Angus said his goodbyes, which took an astounding amount of time as each woman had to wave him farewell, wish him Godspeed, whatever that was, and all but swooned in a cohesive, geriatric heap on the antique Persian rug. And then finally, they found their seats at the table, while going on and on about his big chest, firm muscles, and sexy plaid garment.
Birdie’s hunger turned to nausea.
“Let’s get this started,” Pinkie continued. “First, everyone show me your bikini razors.”
With military precision, each woman raised a pink razor, albeit of varying brands, to confirm their ability to follow instructions like herded sheep.
