Chapter 5
Chapter Five
I stared at Tigger, looking so peaceful slumbering on my pillow. I really should move him, but I didn’t have the heart. Instead, I grabbed a spare cushion from the hall closet and snuggled down beside my pet.
A pet who kept surprising.
As someone who’d owned many reptiles over the years, this one defied everything I thought I knew about them.
For one, it truly knew how to express its feelings.
Surprise, curiosity, the mannerisms it displayed, like crossing its arms. Then there was its intelligence.
Observing us eating with utensils and wanting one of its own.
How it figured out the toilet. It truly must be a rare breed.
A thought that brought worry, because that likely meant Tigger was probably valuable and most likely missed by whoever used to own it.
At the same time, they should have taken better care. Finders keepers. At least until someone came knocking and demanded I give Tigger back.
The next morning, I woke to Tigger snuggled under my chin, its little body heating. Weird. Most reptiles ran cold. Was it sick? As I shifted away from my pet, I noticed its skin peeling. Entering a molting phase. Probably why it ran hot.
When I returned from getting breakfast, I noticed Tigger hadn’t moved and actually snored.
I pursed my lips. Disturbing the lizard to put it in the tank seemed mean.
I left it sleeping, placing some food on the floor for it to find in case it woke up hungry, closed my bedroom door, and headed to the workshop.
When I checked on Tigger at lunch, the food had been eaten and the bowl of water drained.
The lizard had returned to its spot on my pillow, its outer skin sloughing in large patches, and did my eyes deceive, or had it grown?
Surely it couldn’t have almost doubled in size overnight? Then again, look at how it ate.
I didn’t return until dinner time and frowned, hearing the television going in my room. Most likely Tigger stepped on the remote. I entered to find the lizard sitting back, leaning against my pillow, the remote lying alongside it.
Don’t tell me it figured out how to use it.
“I see someone is feeling better,” I murmured as I eyed the skin it had shed in a pile on the floor beside my bed.
It cocked its head before nodding.
“Hungry?” I noticed the meal I’d left it at lunch was cleared down to the last crumb.
It scrambled to its hind legs, standing and holding out its front paws. Wait, did it want me to pick it up?
As I leaned in to grab, my eyes widened. “Well, guess there’s no doubt you’re a boy.” Apparently, along with its fresh and somehow brighter orange skin, its testes had dropped. Weird. Reptiles usually kept those tucked in their abdomen. Then again, nothing about Tigger was normal.
I scooped him, placing him on my shoulder, where he clung to my shirt as I headed to the kitchen.
“What do you say we barbecue tonight? I swung by the grocery store and grabbed us some steaks.”
The chirp Tigger emitted almost sounded like a yes. “Wait until you have a bite of my double-stuffed baked potato. So yummy. And of course, a salad, because we need our greens.”
I jerked, as I could have sworn someone squeaked, “No, we don’t.”
A glance around showed me alone. Tutu was in the shop still, dealing with paperwork. Must be my imagination, that or I truly was turning into a crazy spinster hearing voices.
It didn’t take long to prep everything. The potatoes had slow baked that afternoon so the insides were easy to scoop and blend with cheese, butter, and chunks of bacon.
While the steaks grilled, I put the potatoes on a plate, smothered in sour cream, green onions, and more cheese.
The salad, sprinkled with a simple vinaigrette, popped with color as I’d added cut-up peppers, tomatoes, and onions.
Tutu arrived as I pulled the steaks from the grill.
“Dinner’s ready,” I stated.
“It better be. My brain needs food after dealing with Tom.” Tom being our accountant, who insisted on proper receipts for everything, which my grandfather hated. “Bloody government always reaching out for their cut.”
“Grab the door for me, would you, so I don’t drop the steaks.”
Tutu held it open long enough for me to enter the house. As I slapped them onto plates, he plopped into his chair, making it groan ominously.
Tigger was on the table waiting—and drooling. I put a plate down for him, but when he would have dived in, I wagged a finger. “Just a second.” I then proceeded to cut up the steak into tiny bites.
“You’re feeding the vermin a ribeye?” Tutu exclaimed.
“He eats what we eat. And don’t worry, I paid for it.”
Once I finished prepping Tigger’s meat, I presented him with a surprise.
“Look what I made for you today.” I had taken a spoon and fork into the shop and shortened their handles.
I handed over the lizard-sized implements, and Tigger actually smiled with a lot of teeth.
He then proceeded to eat, stabbing the meat with his fork and making a low rumbling sound of contentment.
“There’s something not right about that lizard,” Tutu remarked. “I swear, if I believed in magic, I’d think some witch turned a person into that reptile.”
“He is rather smart.”
“It’s uncanny.”
“I’d think you’d be happy he’s got such good manners. Oh, wait, who am I talking to? You’re never happy.”
“So sassy, just like your grandma.” A comment that emerged with fondness and not acrimony.
“I got the top for the second side table done today. I should be ready to start on the bigger one tomorrow.”
“Frothing is looking good on them.” Tutu offered a rare compliment.
“I know.” I didn’t bother acting coy because it was some of my finest work.
“Speaking of Jameson, he’s supposed to pop by tonight.”
“What on earth for?”
“Dropping off an installment.”
“You know, there’s this thing called electronic funds transfer that doesn’t require anyone leaving the house and puts the money right in the bank account.”
“Cash is king.”
“Unless you hide it somewhere and forget that location.” It had happened a few times.
“Did I forget, or did I just not tell you?” he countered.
I arched a brow. “If you’d remembered, we wouldn’t have had to scramble a few months ago when we needed to pay to get the kiln fixed.”
“Banks are crooks,” was his feeble retort.
More like he knew anything he deposited would be garnished by debt collectors.
Once we’d finished dinner—my reptile clearing his plate, the second half of my potato, and all the steak fat I skipped—I headed to my room with Tigger.
A murmur of voices an hour later let me know the client had dropped in.
I remained hidden, mostly because I found myself smoothing my hair and eyeing my less-than-stellar pajamas.
Pineapple-patterned cotton fabric. So sexy.
Although, why I cared, I couldn’t have said.
Jameson might be handsome, but he wasn’t my type.
Even if I could ignore the fact he was a client, we came from different worlds.
I, the working-class local, he, the rich outsider who probably dated models decades younger.
I knew his type, having met them before.
Some women might fall for the charm, and then cry later when dumped. I, though, never took the bait.
“Iolana!” Tutu bellowed my name.
I sighed and almost yelled back “What?” No point, though. I’d been summoned. Guess Jameson would be seeing my pajamas. As I went to grab the doorknob, Tigger chirped.
“Want to come along?” Why not? I snared my pet, placing him on my shoulder, and exited to find Jameson standing by the door.
A beaming Tutu held a brown envelope. “Can you show Apollo our progress?”
“Now?” I didn’t entirely manage to curb my annoyed tone. My lizard didn’t like it judging by his squeak.
“If it’s no trouble,” Jameson politely added.
I could have said no, but this man was about to put a lot of money in our hands, and if not now, he’d likely return tomorrow. Might as well get it over with.
“Sure.” I led the way, in my oh-so-fashionable nightwear and yellow flip-flops.
“Your grandfather said you have two of the side tables done.”
Great. More small talk. “Not quite. I still need to give them a final polish, but I think you’ll be pleased.” He’d better be, or I might clobber him with one of my many tools.
“I do apologize for disturbing you this late, but your grandfather insisted I see the progress.”
Of course, Tutu did. “No problem,” I lied.
The workshop lights came on with a flick of the switch, and I strode directly to the two tables, yanking the cloths covering them.
“Wow.” Jameson said only the one word, but I still filled with pleasure because it had emerged heartfelt. “These are going to look incredible in my place.”
“Thanks. As you can see, I managed to get the bubbles to form the concentric pattern you wanted.”
Jameson crouched and ran his hand over the surface. “I admire the way you can create such beauty.”
“Thanks.” Then I found myself blurting out, “What do you do for work?”
“A different kind of art. I’m a game app developer. Or was. Since a few of them went viral, I spend more time these days dealing with administration tasks than designing.”
“I’ve never understood people’s obsession with playing on their phones.” My nose wrinkled. “Then again, I was never much into video games.”
“And I was the opposite. As a kid, I couldn’t get enough of them, to my parents’ annoyance.
I’m pretty sure the fact they kept telling me I wasted my time made me determined to prove them wrong.
” He grinned, and my tummy did a flip. Careful.
Despite his charm, he remained a rich, out-of-my-league client.
“I began working with obsidian at a young age. First by going out with my grandmother to find unique pieces. She used to make the most beautiful jewelry and sculptures.”
“I take it she passed.”
“Yeah. Tutu, I mean, Keanu, was never the same after. It hit him harder than losing my mom.”