Chapter Seventeen
Birdie
T here’s nothing like stove-brewed Turkish coffee in the morning, especially the way I make it, the way my mother taught me. It sets the bar for deep richness. All others fall short.
Rex and I have a big day ahead of us, heading into town to drop the kitten off at her new furever home then having lunch with my mom. I haven’t talked to her about whatever is going on between us, but I’m sure we can play it cool.
I grab the pitcher of filtered water from the fridge and put it on the counter near the oven, where the sugar and container of finely ground Turkish coffee sit. I pull the cezve, a traditional long-handled copper pot, from the drying rack and fill it with the proper measurements of each ingredient. When I turn on the gas stove, I hear a rustle behind me.
“I’ve got it.” Rex’s deep, sleepy voice sends a shiver down my spine as he crowds me from behind. With a hand on my waist and a snap of his fingers, the burner lights in dancing blue-orange flames.
“Show off,” I tease, which earns me a kiss at the temple.
Rex takes his coffee extra-sweet while I prefer only a teaspoon, to make the most of the rich cardamom flavor. After the coffee’s boiling and foamy, I pour mine first then add more sugar to finish preparing his portion.
“Oh! Cream.” He turns to the fridge.
Sacrilegious . I shake my head. Every day I think he’ll forget and just try it black. Who needs milk with a strong Turkish coffee?
While I set up the tray with our cups on the table, Rex rustles around in the fridge and lets out a huff of laughter, peeking around the door to waggle a jar of mayonnaise at me. An almost empty jar of mayonnaise.
“Whatcha been using this for, miss ma’am?”
“No comment.” My lips pinch on a smile. His shit-eating grin tells me he knows exactly what I’ve been using it for. My favorite guilty pleasure—grilled cheese that’s easier to cook and tastes just as good as using butter on the bread.
He shuts the door, placing the creamer by his coffee, and crowds me against the table, poking at my cheeks until I’m grinning.
“No hiding those smiles, Birdie Lynn.”
I can’t seem to hide anything from him anymore, and I don’t mind one bit.
He sprinkles cream into his cup and takes a long, delighted sip. “I drank way too much of your mom’s coffee my first morning at The Deviled Egg and nearly sent myself into cardiac arrest.”
“That’s why your limit is one cup.” I laugh, imagining him sprawled on mom’s sofa after drinking a thermos of extra-strong Turkish coffee. “It’s so different from American-style drip brew, which is why we use such small cups.” I think back to the night he was drunk on homemade brew and ended up wrestling my pregnant goat. “We need a rule for you with new beverages. If it doesn’t have a nutritional label, only consume after consulting with someone around you.”
His glare is belied by an amused smirk. “I haven’t even wiped the sleep from my eyes and you’re busting my balls.”
“When it comes to mind-altering drinks, you have a habit of getting into trouble, like blowing up giant statues.” I flick his horn clamp, which he recently had to duct tape back together. Both it and my tracker bracelet broke and fell off. He hasn’t had a chance to get a replacement but assures me it’s still working fine and he’s doing good on his hours.
Rex captures my hand and bites my knuckles, eyes dancing with mirth. “Can’t get into any more trouble with the law out here.”
“Only trouble with me.”
“My favorite kind.” His lips tip up.
“Scoundrel.” I grin back and pinch his nose until he swats me away. “Oh, hey, do you need me to log you in for our ride to drop off the cat? If you need the hours, it could count since the trip is adoption related.”
He stirs his coffee with a tiny spoon, seemingly absorbed in the task. “Nah, I’m good for today.”
A couple hours later, we’re at the Winter Bliss town square handing off the kitten I only narrowly avoided naming to her new mom, Officer Gertie Dale. I assume she wanted to meet us here because it’s Saturday, her office is closed and, for professional reasons, she’s not about to let her clients know where she lives. Not that a tall, bulky orc woman like herself couldn’t do some serious damage if anyone threatened her. Better safe than sorry, always.
While I had a few applicants willing to adopt my feisty, half-feral cat, Officer Dale seemed like the best fit all things considered. And if it helps Rex’s case in the end, I’m not above trading cute baby animals for a little goodwill.
When I see Susan, Randy’s sister, waving at me across the plaza, I step away to catch up. A jolt of embarrassment still courses through me to see her in person.
“Hey,” she says, flushed from the cold.
“Hi.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. While I blocked Randy’s number, we’ve communicated professionally enough via email, often through his sister since she works for him. There is no longer any association between Wild Hearts Sanctuary and his travel agency beyond their assistance in correcting communications about the holiday event. My moms and his family run in similar social circles in town, so everyone’s stayed cordial, if a little awkward, around each other.
“The country club newsletter emailed out the corrected graphic today,” she says, mouth tight and eyes wide “Sorry about all that.”
“Not your fault. I’m relieved to hear it. Thanks for all your help, seriously.” His sister’s been extremely professional. She stepped up to run the brick-and-mortar side of their business while Randy’s off being a digital nomad, whatever the fuck that means.
“I think the fliers and posters have helped a lot.” She smiles. “Christmas and New Year’s are the big holidays, but a winter solstice event is new. It’s all anyone’s talked about lately.”
“Really?” I watch the bundled up people around us, mostly out buying last-minute holiday gifts, and wonder how many plan to come out to the ranch.
“Yeah, I’m really happy for you, Birdie.” She nods. “In fact, do you need any volunteers? I know Randy offered a sponsorship, which you had every right to decline, but this isn’t that. I’d be happy to pitch in just to help, what with everything that . . . well.”
“We’re all staffed up.” I say quickly. “That’s really generous of you, though.” I tag on to soften it. With the end of this event, Randy is completely behind me, exactly the way I want it. But who knows, if he stays gone for good and his sister takes over, maybe we could partner again someday.
I recognize Rex’s raised voice booming behind me. “I’ve gotta go, Susan. Thanks again for everything.”
When I turn back to join him, it’s obvious he’s arguing with his probation officer. That doesn’t seem wise. She gestures to his horn clamp, but I’m too far away to make out what they’re saying. I hope she’s not upset that it’s so damaged. The nature of his work on the ranch has been so physical, it’s no wonder it broke. I’m gearing up to offer to pay for a replacement, when he turns to stalk away and reaches me first.
“Everything okay?” I halt to ask.
Officer Dale has the cat carrier tucked at her side, watching Rex with an annoyed shake of her head.
“Yeah. Peachy. Let’s go.” His hand presses at the small of my back as I wave over my shoulder at her. Would it kill him to try a little harder to make a good impression?
The stoic orc gives me a friendly, if stilted, wave and nod in return, lifting the cat carrier. Oh no, what if it wasn’t the horn clamp?
“You think they’ll be a good fit? I had other applicants if the kitten was acting up and Officer Dale had second th—”
“No, the little troublemaker’s fine. It’s not that. She . . .” He huffs and flicks his horn clamp. “She’s just as frustrated as I am about all the red blinking errors with this fucking thing.”
“Oh.” I exhale, relieved. “I’m willing to pay for a replacement.”
“Nah, it’s just a dud.” He avoids my gaze, but grabs my hand, squeezing it tight. We’re a little ways down one of the main shopping district streets when he stops and pulls me aside, grabbing both my hands. Instantly, I feel them warm with his fire power. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine. Let’s enjoy the day. The holiday spirit and all that.” I glance around at the array of colorful lights criss-crossing the street, a horse-drawn sleigh ambling around the square, and the carolers two doors down.
“Yeah.” He nods, taking a breath. “Forget all about this probation bullshit.”
“Maybe tone down the cursing when we get to my moms’?” I arch a brow. He knows we want to keep this thing between us hush-hush. I mean, my moms already adore him, and he’s leaving soon.
“I'll be a very good boy, boss lady.” His head cocks, grin full of mischief.
“Boss?!” I pinch his tummy. He dances away, still keeping hold of one hand as he walks backwards. I point at him. “And a good boy? I'll believe it when I see it.”
We spend the next hour ogling the impressive holiday window displays of the local shops, from the bakery’s intricate gingerbread house village to the wondrous model train setup of the toy store. My favorite is definitely the library though, with its lit up line of rainbow mini trees and the dozens of holiday-themed books strung on fishing line hanging like they’re floating magically in the air.
We make a quick detour into Perkatory for some hot chocolate then find a pair of demon kids running their own competing stand a few doors down.
“Little capitalists,” Rex hands them some money, a hefty discount off Perkatory’s price, and we do a taste test. His family’s recipe is better by far, but we give the young demons their kudos.
Giant snowflake and flame cutouts dangle across the street advertising the annual New Year’s Eve festival. Like Susan said, I notice at least three posters advertising my A Wild Hearts Holiday event. Each one makes my heart want to burst.
We sneak into the cheese shop last. They sell a limited edition cranberry goat cheese that’s to die for. And we can’t leave without picking up a gluttonous assortment of other specials. What better time to treat ourselves than the holidays?
Finally, ready for some good home-cooked food, we make it to The Deviled Egg. Mom and Orla made sandwiches and a red lentil soup, and since it’s Saturday, it’s just the four of us.
A good time is had by all. When I get full on soup, Rex eats the other half of my sandwich.
Surprise of surprises, he and I don’t even argue.
Well, that’s not technically true.
We got into it briefly over which TV show was better, the original Quantum Renegade or the newer reboot. The original, obviously. It tackled controversial social issues the current series never quite addressed. Rex is just a die-hard fanboy of the actor who plays Thraxxius in the new version. Totally blindsided. I have to remember that fan is short for fanatic . There’s really no reasoning with people like that.
“Need a hand?” Mom pops into the kitchen as I’m washing the dishes.
“Oh.” I almost drop a water glass. “Sure.”
“You really don’t have to do the dishes, kusum ,” she says, turning the faucet to the left to rinse the ones I finish washing. “Though I appreciate it.”
“I like to help,” I say. And when Aunt Ethel popped by five minutes ago, I was desperate to avoid the knowing gaze she darted between me and Rex. Orla asked Rex to help her unstick the attic ladder, so I figured the dishes were better than anxiously waiting for small talk that could turn awkward and innuendo filled in a moment.
I don’t think Rex and I are being obvious about whatever is happening with us, but I don’t need it to be a topic of family conversation. Which is kind of Ethel’s modus operandi .
“You and Rex are getting along better.”
My eyes bug out, hands scrubbing the tacky bottom of the pot a little faster.
“You’re seeing him differently?” Mom adds, carefully. I can tell when she’s being precise with her words, holding back in hopes I’ll open up. And I want to. I want to be closer to her. She’s always liked Rex, even when we bickered like crazy.
“We’ve grown closer.” I breathe out, my sudsy hand sliding over the lip of a bowl. That wasn’t so hard to admit, was it? “Actually, he’s kind of the best,” I add. Not looking at her makes it a little easier to share, to say what I’m really feeling. “I’m going to miss him when he leaves.”
Mom takes the bowl from me, running it under the water. “I can understand that. We’ll miss him too.”
“It’s not just because he’s helpful around the ranch, either. It’s more than that. I feel . . .” I gulp, handing her the last spoon and wiping my hands down, moving to her other side to dry the dishes. “I feel so unguarded around him. Safe to be me, even if it means we still bicker.”
“Like cats and dogs.” She laughs.
“He’s helped me see myself, believe in myself, in a new way. A way I like, even when it scares me.”
When I look up, Mom is grinning at the dishes. “Demons have a certain magic like that, the ones we are meant to connect with.” She peers at me. “They can see a hidden fire others may miss. One we may not have known we had within us.”
My fire , just like Rex said. Is that what it was like for her and Orla when they met after the divorce?
“You found your person,” I say.
“I had to find myself first, though.”
I nod, smiling even as tears brim hot behind my eyes. The bitterness I’ve always felt over her leaving Dad and chasing her own happiness feels like ash in my mouth now.
“I never really . . .” My thoughts clash and swirl. I’ve spent my whole life following paths presented to me—perfect grades in school, my first career in the big city, even buying the ranch only when it was in dire straits to keep it in the family.
“You’re getting there.”
Mom drops the dishes and folds me into a hug. I cry, really cry, working through my confused, nervous feelings about Rex, the unfair resentment I kept bottled up for too long, and the simple relief at being held by her.
Imagine my surprise when the world doesn’t crumble at my feet, when a surge of relief joins the thunder in my heart. She pats my back and soothes me in a rocking hug.
My emotions aren’t a burden. Maybe they never were.