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Birdie fired back two lines of angry emoji faces.
Sawyer: How is it you have everyone in this town fooled into believing you’re a sweet girl, Birdie McAllister, when clearly you’re not? Gambling, dirty talking at night, and now cussing. I may just have more on you than I originally thought.
Birdie looked at the phone in her hand. Was Sawyer Duke teasing her? The man was an emotionless yeti. She never saw him smile and rarely speaking, especially if he was with his brothers and they spoke for him. In fact, the only time he seemed to talk was with his niece or J.D.
Before she could reply, her phone buzzed again with another message.
Sawyer: 3:30, Birdie. Don’t make me hunt you down, and if I find you’ve driven, I’ll be pissed.
Clearly, she’d been wrong about him teasing her. She was about to message back something rude when she heard footsteps.
“Are you there, sweetie?” A loud knock followed the greeting.
“In here, Mom,” Birdie called back. She’d just ignore Sawyer and let him stew. How dare he think he could tell her what to do? She felt like taking off early tomorrow and starting her drive to Ryker Falls before he got here. She might even do that.
But was she that brave? He’d be angry, and he had stuff on her that if it got out would change how everyone saw her. It would hurt her parents too.
“I know you already took my apple oatmeal cookies, but I just made a batch of peanut butter bars and thought you’d like some for your girls’ night, Birdie.”
Meadow McAllister had on a large, oversized orange kaftan that Birdie was pretty sure she and her siblings had camped in once. Her feet were bare, as everything under the kaftan would be.
It was a constant disappointment to their parents that the McAllister children had turned out uptight, with a need for secure jobs. They also always wore clothes unless swimming, showering, or the other thing that Birdie got little chance to do. Sex had been off the table since her fiancé dumped her.
Birdie avoided one-night stands. No way did she want to face someone constantly after doing that with them. Some people didn’t mind that, and there were those in Lyntacky that slept around. She wasn’t one of them.
“Hi.” Cill appeared, carrying a large box and a suitcase.
“You shouldn’t be carrying heavy stuff,” Birdie said, taking the box. “Why have you brought so much with you?”
“I’m strong and fit, Birdie. That’s important when you decide to have kids,” Cill said. “And I brought supplies.”
“I won’t.”
“Won’t what?” her mother demanded.
“Ah, won’t forget to be strong when I’m pregnant,” Birdie added quickly.
Not that she didn’t want to have kids, but they’d just never factored into her life simply because Birdie had never met a man she wanted to have kids with. Well, she had, but she hadn’t been enough for him, so he’d left her wearing his ring. Birdie told herself she was pleased Steve had shown his true colors before they were married, but it still hurt deep inside.
“I will ensure you and Blue Jay are strong when the time comes for you to have babies. Nutrition and yoga will help, plus some meditation,” Meadow said.
Cill dropped her bags on the floor. She then opened one and grabbed a container. Lifting the lid, she took a wedge of cake topped with thick, creamy icing.
“What? It’s carrot cake, that should count for something,” Cill said, looking from Meadow to Birdie while licking icing off her fingers.
“Well, Priscilla, the apple and oatmeal cookies would be better and don’t have the huge sugar quota that is in that cake,” Birdie’s mother said.
“Want some?” Cill held the container out, and Birdie selected a piece of yummy goodness.
“I’ll make you a nice, soothing peppermint tea, as I know Birdie has some. It will aid the digestion after so many calories,” her mother said.
Birdie hummed her appreciation as she bit into the frosting. Meadow McAllister tsked and headed for the kitchen.
“It’s like the entire population of Lyntacky conspired against me tonight.” Nina walked in next, scowling. She wore exercise tights and a cropped sweatshirt, looking like she’d stepped out of a super cool gym where the hip people went. “Oh, hey there, Mrs. Mac,” she said to Birdie’s mom who had poked her head out of the kitchen. She had clothes hanging over her arm and a large bag too.
“Hello, Nina. Would you like a peppermint tea? I’m making Cill one,” Meadow said.
“Only if it produces my next orgasm. I’ll stick to this.” She waved a deep, bloodred bottle of wine about. “Is that your husband’s carrot cake, Cill?”
