Love Is for the Birds

6. Jack

JACK WIPED OFF THE STAINLESS-STEEL SQUARE ABOVE THE SINK to create a mirror, but in the dim light of the park’s restroom, he could barely see his image. Heavy stubble covered his face in such a way that he either resembled a Hollywood actor trying to appear tragically hip or a panhandler. He fumbled through his Dopp kit searching for shaving cream and stumbled upon a bottle of Brut. He remembered Angela’s last Christmas when he pulled the cologne from his stocking. “You trying to tell me something?” he teased her. “You know you always smell good enough to eat,” she said, kissing him.

He promised Angela he’d wear the cologne to a nice dinner in Fort Worth, some place with fresh seafood. When she got sick, that night on the town never happened. What would Angela think of him wearing the Brut for another woman?

“Promise me you’ll move on,” she’d said on her deathbed, and he promised he would. At that moment, he would have promised her anything, true or not. Now, maybe at least he could try.

He struggled to grab the edge of the green plastic wrap. Without fingernails, he couldn’t tear it. Why bother? He put the bottle back in his kit, squirted a ball of shaving foam on his palm, and lathered up.

After the shave, he splashed water on his face, and talked to the man in the mirror. “Just do it. Are you a man or a worm? A worm is the only animal that can’t fall down. Ah, heck.” He grabbed the bottle, took out his pocketknife, split the wrapper off the cap, and doused himself with Brut.

When he walked out of the restroom, Jimbo waved a hand in front of his nose. “You smell like a Bourbon Street pimp.”

“That bad?” He breathed in an overpowering blast of spice so strong his eyes watered.

“You’re going to see Teddy, I presume.” Jimbo threw a backpack into the bed of his pickup. “If you don’t want this to be the last time, I’d get back in the shower and rinse that crap off.”

Jack showered again, passed Jimbo’s smell test, and headed off to Teddy’s place. The buzzing of electric saws and shots from nail guns sounded from the buildings lining the streets. Just like at the ranch, people at the beach rose early. He tapped his horn to give a friendly honk to a carpenter in overalls who sorted through a pile of lumber. When the man saluted, he recognized the carpenter from last night’s barbecue.

He veered to miss a toppled giant-sized wooden fishermen dressed in a yellow slicker. The carving normally stood in the parking lot of The Islander, once the island’s biggest souvenir shop, a few blocks away. He’d been here dozens of times and never expected to see this destruction on the island. He drove past the other toppled wood fisherman who now obstructed the entrance to the Taco Hut. The remains of its palapa roof cluttered the patio. A block later, he encountered a fleet of upturned boats, scattered like toys. Between the collection of charter fishing crafts, sailboats, and sport-fishing yachts on the street, hardly a vessel remained at the docks a half mile away.

A surge of sadness came over him, shoving its way into his heart in a spot next to Angela. Teddy had to feel helpless, just as he had felt when Angela was dying. Was Teddy also lonely like him? What kind of boyfriend would leave her alone at a time like this? He revved his engine to give Teddy a warning as he approached her house. Angela always told him that women didn’t like surprises, especially before a date. Was it a date? He was getting ahead of himself.

He stepped from his car and shouted, “Anybody home?”

Silence. He circled the house searching for signs of life. He shouted again. If something happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. For the first time in five years, he cared about someone else.

Out on the Gulf, the sun sparked off the water, blinding him with explosions of bright white light. A dog barked. He rushed toward the sound. Then he saw her. “Thank God.” He raised his hands to the sky.

Teddy’s shorts stopped mid-thigh revealing a pair of muscular quads. Jack turned his eyes away thinking, She’s only a woman. I’ve got this. He sucked in a huge breath of the sea.

Pickles barked with an I’m-glad-to-see-you welcome. Teddy quickened her pace just a little, or maybe Jack only imagined it. As she grew closer, his worries increased. Don’t be an idiot. Just don’t be an idiot. He wanted to hug her. Instead, he knelt down to Pickles and offered a hand.

“I almost panicked when I didn’t see you at the house. I shouldn’t have left you here by yourself.”

“You mean here at my house by myself where I’ve been all along? Thank you very much.”

He recognized that you-are-such-a-dope tone. Angela often shared the same attitude. Not all women needed or wanted to be rescued, she would say. Now, here he stood trying to play the savior again.

“I just meant . . .” He avoided her eyes.

“I know what you meant.” She rubbed Pickles’s ears and in her sweet voice said, “Tell that man that we were just fine, just the two of us. You protected me, didn’t you?”

Tail wagging, butt wiggling, Pickles lapped up the attention.

“Let me start over.” He paused and searched for words. “You and Pickles make a good team.”

“She’s good company.” Teddy dusted the sand from her knees.

“You don’t need to take care of me, you know. I’ll be okay.”

“I just want to help, that’s all.” His voice dropped off to almost a whisper. Jack wondered if Teddy even heard him.

He wanted a woman. He hated to admit it. The loneliness stung. He missed the little things the most, like the way Angela kissed him every time she left the house, and the way she squeezed his hand when they watched scary movies. The sun beat down on his neck and sweat beaded on his face. He wanted a woman beside him, and one stood before him.

Teddy swiveled like a techno-dancer and turned to meet Jack’s eyes. “I don’t need your pity, you know. I don’t see you helping Walt at the surf shop down the street.”

“It’s just that . . .” He cringed at the piles of trash on the beach. “It’s too much for a woman.”

She jerked her head. “Did you really just say that?”

“I mean, it’s too much for anyone, especially a woman.”

“I get it. You’re a time traveler from another century back when women churned their own butter.”

Teddy headed toward the road. Pickles followed her with her eyes, then looked back at Jack. “I talk too much, don’t I, girl?” Pickles wagged her tail all the while keeping Teddy in sight. “You better go after her, soften her up for me.” Pickles tilted her head. “Go on.”

Pickles ran off. If Jimbo were here, he’d tell Jack to apologize. Jimbo was easy around women.

Jack caught up with Teddy and said, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not usually this touchy.” She blinked, and her lashes were moist.

“I’m always this stupid.”

“Are we going for tacos?”

“Does that mean we get to go eat?”

“Is there coffee?”

With the sound of the surf, and the wind, and Pickles trotting beside them, he didn’t need to talk. Friends, he decided. Just treat her like a friend and see what happens.

He ran ahead to the truck and opened the passenger door. Pickles jumped into the front seat, practically strangling herself on the leash. Teddy stumbled into the truck behind the dog and commanded her to move to the backseat.

“Pickles loves the beach. You should’ve seen her playing in the waves.”

“Maybe somebody around here’s searching for her.” Jack climbed into the driver’s seat.

“I don’t know. Maybe not. Some people around here don’t have a place to live in, or a dime for food. A dog’s a luxury they can’t afford.”

Maybe Teddy spoke the truth, just take a gander of the state of things in Bird Isle. His truck splashed through a stagnant pool of water and then proceeded down a street with a row of bungalows. Teddy viewed the random damage—on one side of the street a Pepto-Bismol pink house with shattered windows and a missing roof, on the other side an intact lime-green house without so much as a loose shingle.

When Jack and Teddy arrived at the pavilion, Jimbo and Polly waved from their posts passing out tacos. “Got any left for us and an ugly dog?” Jack asked. “No offense, Pickles.” He patted her on the head.

“I thought you were talking about yourself.” Jimbo assumed fighting position and boxed into the air. “You’re the ugliest dog around here.”

“Very funny.” Jack held up his palms to serve as boxing bags.

“And what happened to the mean mutt hiding under the boat yesterday?” Jimbo pointed to Pickles.

Teddy grinned. “She’s great, right?”

“Is that the same dog?” Jimbo asked. “What’re you, the dog whisperer?”

“No feral dog would train that fast,” Jack said.

“Or, I just have a way with animals.” Teddy raised her hand and said, “Sit.”

Pickles immediately obeyed.

“Point taken.” Jack laughed.

Polly and Jimbo managed to roll and wrap four trays of breakfast tacos—egg and sausage, bean and cheese, egg and bacon, bean and brisket. Two gallons of salsa completed the food line. The crowd of people filed politely by the food, often waiting to be coaxed to take two tacos.

Teddy picked up a jug of salsa and read the label, “Jack’s Texas Red Salsa.”

“You like mild, spicy, or in-between?” He just might impress her with his salsa.

“This yours?”

“Yep, and for the low-low price of $2.99 a pint can be yours.”

She poured a puddle of salsa on her plate.

Jack’s eyes widened. “Be careful, Jack’s Texas Red has a kick to it.” “I can take a little heat.” She flashed a smile.

From what little he knew of her, she could take plenty of heat, and rain, and wind. He scooped eggs into a bowl and handed the breakfast to Teddy. “This is for Pickles.”

“You promised her bacon.”

“That I did.” He plopped a piece of bacon on top.

“After this, we’ve got to find some kibble. This human food is going to make her sick.” Teddy placed the bowl of eggs on the ground. Pickles licked the bowl clean before Jack could say bacon and eggs.

“You’re making my day.” Barb tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around.

“Seriously, we really appreciate it. You’ve done so much, I hate to ask, but I’m too old to waste time with playing games. I need a favor.” Barb took hold of Jack’s arm and pulled him away from the coffee line. “Lord knows, there’s a lot to be done.” Barb pointed to the overturned boats, grounded yachts, and demolished businesses all within clear view of the taco line. “But the Whooping Cranes will return mid-October. The flock of cranes that winter here are the only naturally occurring wild population in the world. Their habitat has been destroyed. You seem like the kind of guy who can put us in the news, get some attention down here.”

“Raise money.” He glanced over to the picnic table where Teddy sat next to Walt.

“That’s right,” Barb said, following his eyes.

“I’ve always loved this place,” he said. “But I hadn’t really planned on coming back again. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Barb made a point of eyeing Teddy. “That so? And I thought . . .” She nodded in Teddy’s direction.

He shook his head. “She told me about Daniel.”

“Oh, really. And what did she tell you about Daniel? That he lives in Houston? They hardly see each other?”

“Well, I . . .” He kicked at a rock. “Not that much, I guess.”

Barb nodded her head toward Teddy. “Go join her.”

Teddy laughed and smiled, apparently sharing a joke with Walt. He experienced a pang of envy seeing how easy they were with each other. If Barb knew the skinny on Teddy and Daniel—that they weren’t exactly the happy couple—maybe he and Teddy could be.

He joined Teddy at her table. She lifted a taco drenched in hot sauce, took a bite, and gave him a thumbs-up. Salsa dripped onto her lip. He gestured to her mouth.

“You can’t take me anywhere,” Teddy said, patting her face with a napkin.

“But you’re wrong. I could take you everywhere.” Jack’s voice cracked in the final words.

Teddy tossed him a thumbs-up sign and smiled. The sign conveyed either of two meanings: one, she wanted to see him again, or two, he was in the friend zone.

Barb squeezed in between Jack and Teddy. “Mind if I join you?” Jack scooted to the end of the bench.

“You’re not going to get away from away that easy,” Barb said, moving over to him.

“Just making room,” he said.

“Good to know. We need volunteers to clean out the habitat, so the cranes will have something to eat,” Barb said. “And at five-feet tall, they eat a lot.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Jack wanted to see Teddy again, not in the friend zone. “You caught me at a great time. I was just thinking about the cranes.”

Barb lowered her glasses. “Funny, I could have sworn you were thinking of something, or someone, else.” She glanced at Teddy. “Teddy loves the cranes, too. I know she’ll be helping, as much as she can.” She waited a beat and then whispered to Jack, “She may seem like she’s all business. But she’s also all woman.”

“Glad to hear that,” he said. Realizing he sounded like a man on the make, he added, “I mean—”

“I know what you mean. I didn’t fall out of a fishing net yesterday. Just ask my three exes.”