Call it fate, p.7
Call it Fate, page 7
“Is that a…a bird?” I couldn’t stop gaping at the unexpected scene in front of me.
The man looked over his shoulder. “It’s an African Grey parrot,” he replied indignantly as if I should know from the barking noises it made while flapping around in its cage, sending feathers everywhere.
I remained standing where I was while the man returned his attention to the chaos in front of him, crooning to the parrot to “please settle down.”
“I was asked to help Mayor Sterling,” I called above the fracas.
He swiveled toward me and glared. “Well then,” the man’s cheeks puffed out while he waved his arms about, “do something.”
“Are you Mayor Sterling?”
The man mumbled something as he threw his hands in the air before marching over to me. Bits of feathers and birdseed covered his graying hair and black suit. His eyes bulged from his face. “No, I’m Mayor Bowen. That,” he rasped, throwing his arm toward the caged parrot, “is Mayor Sterling.”
Squawk! “This council will now come to order,” Mayor Sterling announced as he hopped from a swing to the floor, where he plucked a small feather from his wing and fluttered back to his swing.
I’d officially landed in the Twilight Zone.
“Did he just say…” I looked around the room, seeking anyone who could make sense of the situation for me.
A gentle hand landed at the crook of my elbow. Emalee stretched up on her toes and whispered in my ear.
“It’s a long story. Of course, he’s not really the mayor, but Mayor Sterling is a beloved member of our community. He’s a phenomenal creature, and I’ve never seen him act so wild before. Can you help?”
Despite the tension between us and the situation we found ourselves in the middle of, I calmed at her touch. Her eyes were clouded with concern as she looked at me, causing me to have the strong desire to do anything she asked.
Nodding, I crossed the room towards the cage. Under other circumstances, I would have found the African Grey to be the most marvelous bird I’d ever seen. But currently, he was a wreck. His breast feathers were mottled, his wings were dirty and badly ruffled, and there were patches of skin showing in at least two places.
“Woof. Arf.”
I knew these parrots were remarkable impersonators, but I’d never heard one mimic a dog before. “What’s the barking about?”
The rumpled man blew out a breath and closed his eyes, shaking his head. “He lives with my family. We had a dog who passed away a couple of weeks ago. Sterling loved Homer and used to ride around on his back whenever he wasn’t in his cage. He used to like to make a doorbell sound, and Homer would always fall for it. It was annoying.” His sad smile implied that wasn’t his actual feeling.
Right on cue, I heard a garbled doorbell chime, followed by another woof.
“Wow. That’s incredible.”
“What do you think is wrong with him?”
I frowned. “Let me see if he’ll let me check him out.” I slowly approached the cage. A blessed silence settled in the room. The “mayor” watched as I bent forward a bit while I crooned his name. “Shush now, there’s a good boy.”
Sterling ruffled his feathers. “Good boy,” he repeated.
I smiled. “That’s right. You’re a good boy. Were you friends with Homer? I’m a friend, too.” I kept my voice low and quiet while my eyes roamed all over the bird.
Sterling tilted his head as he peered at me, still quiet. “Homer. Woof.”
“I bet you miss him, don’t you? I’m Zach.” I slipped my hand slowly toward the cage door but didn’t open it. Sterling kept completely still. “There now. Nice and steady.” The bird held completely still, but I knew those sharp eyes were watching carefully. I was more worried about his sharp beak and talons.
I looked over my shoulder at the man I assumed to be the real mayor, who hovered just behind me. In a quiet voice, I ordered, “Get everyone out of the room, and make sure they shut the door. If you can locate a soft towel or anything like it, that would be great.”
With a snap of his fingers and a head nod toward the door, everyone started murmuring but obeyed the order. Slowly, humming some ditty that popped into my head, I opened the cage door once someone placed a soft T-shirt in my hands, never taking my eyes from the parrot. “There now. Would you like to come out?”
Sterling took a step backward, so I stilled my hand. After a few seconds, he wobbled a couple of steps, close enough I could stroke his head. Almost cat-like, he tilted his head and rubbed it under my fingers. After a couple of minutes of petting, I gently scooped him up and pulled him from the cage, never stopping my senseless murmurings as I wrapped the soft material around him so he couldn’t fly or scratch me.
The suited man breathed a sigh of relief as I checked out Sterling with gentle fingers. “What do you think is wrong with him?”
“I’m not an avian specialist, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s depressed.”
His mouth dropped open. “Depressed? A bird?”
“Yep. Parrots are very intelligent and can experience emotions much like we do. Think about it. He knew how to tease the dog with a doorbell sound. If he had a close bond with Homer, he may be acting out as part of his grief.” I saw a piece of banana next to the cage and held it out to Sterling; I couldn’t bring myself to refer to him as “Mayor.” The parrot nibbled at it while the real mayor looked on.
“Homer used to share his treats with Sterling, and he allowed Sterling to take naps on his bed with him. I just thought it was cute. Homer was always a gentle and tolerant dog. It never occurred to me there was that much of a bond, though.”
I nodded. “Definitely. Parrots are usually monogamous once they mate, so it makes sense they can form close attachments with another animal if they don’t have a mate.”
The mayor rubbed his chin. “He wasn’t my pet to begin with. I inherited him from my mother when she died a few months ago. I guess losing two friends put him over the edge. He’s never seemed to like me, and it’s gotten harder ever since he learned to call me…well, never mind.”
“Could be.” I continued to scratch under Sterling’s neck feathers as I cuddled him near my chest. I was just relieved he’d settled down and was letting me hold him.
“So, do I need to get another dog? Maybe another bird for a mate?”
I could hear the stress in his voice. “No, unless you want to later. But give him some time, maybe a little extra attention from you or someone in your family until he adapts. If it doesn’t get any better, I can look up to see if there’s a sedative to slip into his meals so he doesn’t do any more harm to his feathers. But I think he’ll settle down naturally. Just keep things as routine as possible for him.”
The mayor sighed. “I guess I can do that. If he’ll let me.”
“I’m sure he will,” I assured him as I stroked Sterling on his head a few more times, pleased to feel his heart rate was slower beneath my fingers pressed against his mottled, gray chest. Speaking softly, I unwrapped and moved him to Mayor Bowen. I took a moment to appreciate what a beautiful bird he was, at least when he wasn’t plucking out his own feathers. They’d grow back, and at least he hadn’t damaged his beautiful red tail feathers.
Sterling accepted the transfer, but not before he had something to say. He dipped his head toward Mayor Bowen. “I won. Bowen is a loser.”
I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing, guessing there was probably a good story there. The mayor gave another beleaguered sigh and rolled his eyes. “This isn’t going to be fun.”
Mayor Bowen thanked me for my time and ushered me to his door. A large crowd fell back, obviously guilty of listening at the door, and applause broke out as I stepped from the room, shutting the door behind me.
“How’s the mayor?” someone called out.
“If you’re referring to Mayor Sterling, I think he’ll be fine.” I chuckled. “If you’re referring to your other mayor, well, let’s just say he’s got his hands full.”
Calls of “way to go, Doc” echoed in the polished stone foyer. Several people came up to shake my hand and welcome me to Sterling Mill. One promised to buy me a drink the next time he saw me, and another offered a free haircut. I was a little overwhelmed by the attention, especially since I was just doing my job.
Someone slapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, Doc. Ruth says she’s got a free dinner waiting for you down at the diner.” He turned to the rest of the group. “And in honor of Mayor Sterling’s favorite, free apple pie as long as it lasts!”
I didn’t know if it was the words “free” or “apple pie” or the combination, but it got the attention of the majority of people who, almost collectively, turned toward the door and left the town hall.
“You should go. Ruth’s pies are nothing to turn down.”
I turned to see Emalee standing next to me, watching as everyone left.
“Are you coming?”
“I think I’m just going to head home.”
“But we’re supposed to talk.”
Her little snort was still cute. “If you think you’re going to have time to talk to me privately there after all of this, you really don’t know small towns very well.” She shrugged. “What’s another day after all this time? Besides,” she said, seeming to draw herself up straighter but still not looking at me, “I have someone waiting for me.”
I didn’t understand why her words pierced me like they did. “Of course,” I said, keeping my tone light and as neutral as possible. “Another time then.”
She nodded and followed the last of the people out the doors, slipping away once again.
Chapter 10
Emalee
* * *
Despite the unexpected reprieve, I couldn’t deceive myself into thinking I’d get out of it a second time. Mindlessly, I went through my pre-dawn routine. By the time the guests were stirring, I had made stuffed french toast, scrambled eggs, and heaps of bacon that were keeping warm alongside my usual muffins and homemade jams.
The sky was a melting pot of pinks and blues when the first guests shuffled in. I noted the honeymooning guests were not among the ones who came down for breakfast and smiled to myself. And even if the other couples weren’t newlyweds, I felt a sense of pride that they often walked in hand in hand or at a slower pace than when they’d first arrived. I loved that The Dogtrot made people feel at home enough to slow down and remember they were on a vacation or, at least, not be so caught up in their work that they couldn’t stop and enjoy a relaxing start to their day.
Well, for most people anyway. I’d just finished refilling the orange juice pitcher when I sensed a dominating presence. My hand momentarily froze on the glass handle until I reminded myself that Zach would never cause a public fuss. I forced myself to greet him with the same welcoming smile I did any other guest.
His returned smile was tentative, but he nodded his head in greeting as he grabbed a plate from a two-seater table and moved to the serving trays. Standing so close, it was impossible not to be aware of how much broader his shoulders seemed. He’d always made me feel small and almost dainty when I’d known him in college, but now, I felt even tinier. Or maybe I was projecting my own fears, knowing that if Zach Abbott wanted something, there was very little he’d do not to get it. He was the most ambitious person I’d ever met, except maybe his father, and he was more about intimidation than hard work and charm.
“I’ll bring you some coffee in just a minute.”
“Thanks.”
“I hope you slept well.”
He gave a half-hearted nod and turned his attention to piling food on his plate.
Okay, then.
I guessed we were back to being awkward. Slowly blowing out a frustrated sigh, I grabbed a fresh pot of coffee from the kitchen and refilled several mugs around the small dining area, appreciating the compliments of the brew and directing them to Brew’s Clues if they wanted to take some beans home with them. It was one of the many benefits of living in our small community. Yes, everyone might think everyone else’s personal business should be shared, but there was also a lot of support, and I loved sending my guests to the various other downtown shops.
I’d put off Zach’s table for the obvious reason of wanting to avoid more awkwardness, but no matter what, I was a hostess first, and that meant putting aside any of my personal feelings. I needn’t have worried. He was absorbed with texting on his phone while I poured his coffee.
I continued with my routine of making sure everyone was taken care of before turning my attention to the living room and pulling back the heavy, damask drapes and tying them back with fringed cords. The day had dawned bright and sunny, although the night air temperature still hovered just under freezing.
“There must be a good story behind Mayor Sterling,” a deep voice said close enough that I jumped.
I deliberately kept my back turned, not wanting him to see that his closeness still affected me. “It’s kind of funny,” I answered, straightening the pillows on the couch and moving to pluck a wilted flower from one of the vases. “My cousin Bristol was a bit of a troublemaker back when we were in high school. Richard Bowen was the principal there at the time. They butted heads frequently. She always said Sterling, who belonged to his mother, had more sense in his bird brain than Mr. Bowen. I don’t know how, but somehow she got Sterling’s name on the ballot.”
I turned to him and shrugged. “He won.”
He gawked at me. “How?”
“The citizens of Sterling Mill love animals. I reckon folks thought it was funny. Besides, his name fits. He was named because of the color of his wings, but it also seemed kind of symbolic. Obviously, we can’t have a bird for a mayor, but the town made him an honorary figurehead. Rich finally embraced it, which increased his popularity, but he made sure that no more animals could ever be on the ballot again.”
Zach closed his eyes and shook his head.
He dragged his hand through his hair, a movement that stretched his shirt across his wide shoulders.. “I’m sorry I was short with you earlier.” Bright green eyes focused on me, causing my feet to freeze and my heart to beat a little faster. “I was just checking on something back home.”
I wondered if it was a girlfriend but quickly worked to shut down that thought. “Did you enjoy Ruth’s last night?” That was a safe topic.
“Her pie was good. Not as good as I remember yours being.” He hesitated, then a line etched between his brows. “Your dream used to be running a restaurant. Why did you give it up, Emalee?”
“Responsibilities. I had a duty to come home and help out.” His eyebrow lifted in curiosity, but now wasn’t the time. “Not everyone’s dreams turn out the way they expect, or they change. I found a way to still do what I enjoy, and that’s more than what a lot of people can say.”
He continued to stare at me like he was trying to read my mind, as if he knew I was leaving something out. “We never got to have our conversation last night.”
“I know.”
“We still need to have it.”
“I know,” I repeated.
Before I could respond, I heard a door in the back hall slam and fast footsteps slapping closer and closer. Before I could call out to stop, Iain burst into the room.
“Mom! Guess what?”
I heard Zach’s quick intake of breath when he realized I was the “mom” that was being spoken to.
I moved to stand between the two of them. “Iain, what have I told you about bursting into rooms when we have guests?”
He peered around me at Zach. “Sorry, sir, but it was ‘portant.”
“That does sound important,” Zach answered. His voice sounded calm, but from the corner of my eye, I didn’t miss the tightening of his mouth or the narrowing of his eyes as they swept over Iain’s face. “What’s the big news you need to tell your…mom?” His voice sounded choked as he spoke the last word, never taking his gaze off Iain.
The smaller set of green eyes was wide with excitement as he refocused on me. “A pipe bursted at school, and there’s water everywhere, so it’s closed today. Isn’t that awesome?” He did a little happy dance, which normally would have made me laugh. Instead, I sensed bands of doom tighten around my chest as Zach stared hard at my son. I could almost hear the pieces snap together for him.
God help me, of all the times for the school to close. Any other time, I would look forward to having my little man around, but today was not one of them.
Iain pulled on my sleeve. “Can we go sleddin’? Please? You promised after school, but now there’s no school, so that counts, right?”
I didn’t dare look at the tense man behind Iain. I rubbed Iain’s hair; this time he let me. “We’ll see. For now, please find Grandma and ask her to take you home until I get there.”
“Okay!” He swung back toward Zach, who had grown pale. “Sorry again, mister,” he said before he dashed back toward the kitchen.
I didn’t care that he forgot my previous reminder as he rushed out as quickly as he’d come in. I only cared that he was safe from the eruption that I sensed was coming.
I felt Zach’s eyes stay pinned on me as I looked anywhere but him. When I finally dared to peek, those green orbs held so many unspoken questions, primarily one. I felt like a deer caught in headlights with nowhere to run. I guessed I didn’t have to worry about how to tell him he had a son. He’d figured it out on his own. And unlike the younger set of identical eyes that gleamed with enthusiasm, the older set was like blazing emeralds, fueled by anger and the worst kind of hurt.
I blinked back the tears as I wrenched my gaze away. I sensed Zach move closer, his words hanging in the space next to my ear.
“Oh, yes. We definitely need to finish our conversation.” His eyes flared as he stormed away and stomped up the stairs, leaving behind an unspoken but nearly tangible trail of hurt and anguish.
Chapter 11
Zach
* * *
