“Dad, I’m literally ten minutes late, and I work fast. You know that. Is the ladder in the shed?”
“No, I’ve already set it up out back. Let’s go.”
The two men set off wearing twin frowns as the sound of canine wrestling echoed from somewhere in the distance.
“Well!” Patricia said, turning to me with a slightly embarrassed smile. “They’re so similar, those two.”
I tried to hide my disbelief that the mountain and the gentleman had anything in common other than blood.
“Shall we go meet the girls now?”
“Of course!” I answered a little too quickly. But I was eager to get to the reason I was there: three temperamental goats that needed to learn how to be part of a family.
•••
“I think that’s all I should try for today,” I said, snapping my nearly empty treat bag shut to the dismay of the three Nigerian dwarf goats watching me from twelve feet away. “I don’t want to push too much.”
The trio, one black with gray ears, one camel-colored with a white belly, and one that was brown with dramatic gray accents, had shifted from sprinting away every time I moved to holding still to wait for goodies. They were still maintaining a huge buffer from me, but I considered their eventual lack of scatter a step in the right direction.
“I think you made fantastic progress!” Patricia called from the other side of the fence. Because she had an accidentally negative history with the trio she’d opted to let me work alone, calling out advice from the sidelines if she noticed me doing anything that might set them off. “They’ve never gotten that close to me.”
She’d told me that the three teenage goats had been rescued from a bad situation, where the only handling they’d had was being chased down by their prior owner to tag their ears. They were as skittish as deer in a field and didn’t trust anyone on two legs, even kindly Patricia, who told me that her two resident goats, Rainbow and Happy, adored her. Her goals were modest: to help Darling, Petunia, and Thistle understand that humans weren’t the enemy, to get them to stop headbutting her when her back was turned, and eventually, to enjoy handling.
“I think they’re going to come along nicely,” I said, taking a few steps toward the gate door, then pausing to glance back at my students. They opted to watch me instead of sprinting away, so I tossed them the last handful of broken-up animal crackers. I speed-walked out of the pen as they bent their heads to scoop up the goodies.
“So simple, yet I never considered it,” Patricia marveled.
That was the beauty of the first lesson, where all I had to do was teach the goats how damn easy it was to get paid. I’d make them work a little harder in each successive class, but for now all I wanted them to understand was that I was a treat floozy.
“I have a feeling we’re going to have some very eager students next time.” I paused. “That is, if you want a next time.”
I wondered if Andrew was going to get to her and tell her how truly horrible I was.
“Are you kidding me? Of course I want you to come back! Let me get my calendar and my checkbook.” She frowned and squinted into the distance. “But whereismy checkbook?”
“Oh, you don’t have to pay me,” I said, jogging a few steps to reach her. “This is fun for me. Keeps me sharp.”
“No, ma’am,” she answered quickly, shaking her head. “This is a huge help so you’re definitely getting paid. Just give me a few minutes to find my things. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen my checkbook in weeks. Are you okay to stay for a few minutes longer?”
“No problem.” I’d run home after my last class to take care of Edith and Birdie before coming so I was fine to wait. And it wasn’t like I had plans.
Patricia headed for the house so I shoved my chilled hands in my jacket pockets and took a few minutes to survey the land.It was a beautiful spot, with rolling hills dotted by gigantic orange-and-yellow-clad trees. It was the kind of property that had something new and beautiful to offer with each season, from the leaf-peeping fall splendor we were in now, to slopes perfect for sledding once the snow came, to the honeybees and blossoms of spring, to a swimming hole and tire swing come summer. It wasn’t unlike where I’d grown up, give or take a few acres.
The sun was dipping lower and the temperature was dropping just as quickly. I was happy to be done for the day. I was looking forward to heading home for an evening of Netflix and canine chill.
Just like every Friday night.
chapter nine
I turned back toward the Gibsons’ house just as a figure crested over the roof, the buffest Santa to ever live. I pivoted on my heel and pretended like I hadn’t seen him.
“Damnit,” I heard Andrew exclaim.
I looked over my shoulder at him to make sure he wasn’t dangling from the gutter, but he was gingerly pacing along the edge of the sloped roof, peering at the ground below. He slapped his back pockets and let out a frustrated grunt.
It was clear something was wrong and I was the only one within grunting distance. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, no. My dad forgot that I was on the other side of the roof patching a hole and brought the ladder back to the barn. My phone is on the ground so I can’t call him.”
