Bird supplies.
Pellets, treats, toys, the pink bird backpack.
Those are the only things missing.
And since all the doors and windows are intact, I can only assume that the thief has a key.
Hmm. Someone with a key who needs bird supplies.
Someone Maggie would run to the moment she got away from me.
Someone who ultimately means well but is a hot mess.
Someone who was not at work yesterday.
Maybe I should be mad, but mostly I’m just relieved. If Maggie ran away to stay with Tina McGowan, her best friend’s daughter, then she didn’t end up as raccoon food or a turkey chew toy.
Plus, if Tina broke in to get Maggie’s bird things, then Maggieclearly isn’t suffering. I think about finding out where Tina McGowan lives and storming the place, but it’s kind of peaceful without Maggie, now that I don’t have to worry. Hunter will be over soon to get back to work, and I’ve got Craft Night later today. That’s when I’ll ask Shelby about her mom, and maybe she’ll even go with me to look for my scofflaw grandmother. I don’t want to scare poor Tina by bursting into her home and accusing her of aggravated bird theft. Maggie’s probably figured out a way to talk to her, so let her terrorize someone else for a while. I have gone from panic to just being grateful that Maggie is alive and that she has a temporary babysitter.
I devote my morning to relaxing as Hunter works, feeling only slightly guilty that he’s cleaning the walls and painting while I’m curled up, reading. Still, he’s getting paid, and this is my favorite way to spend a Saturday. I’ve done good work this week, and I’ve decided that in my new life, I will prioritize self-care.
At lunch, I bring him a sandwich and sweet tea, and am rewarded with a chaste kiss, which is fine, as he’s covered in white paint. Apparently, his knack only extends to building, as painting takes him nearly all day, which seems a pretty normal speed for such a task. At the very end, he appears holding a white wooden door and apologizing for taking so long, and I’m mesmerized by watching him neaten the hole and screw in the hinges; I have never before given a single moment’s thought to how a door works, and it’s more complicated than it seems. Once I have a sturdy, locking door between me and the ghost downstairs, Hunter heads home to wash off the paint and take his grandmother out for their weekly supper date.
I seriously don’t know if this man is real or I conjured him up after reading Jane Austen books with a fever.
Before I walk over to MacGillicuddy’s for Craft Night, I stop downstairs to admire Hunter’s work. Gloriously bright white walls greet me, and the stacked wood shines like a jar of honey against its crisp backdrop. It is truly startling how fast he works. Magic has somehow become a part of my everyday life, and I wouldn’t want to go back to a time without it. If I flipped through myLittle Websterright now, I’m pretty sure my finger would land on the wordlucky.
Well, except thatluckyisn’t in the miniature dictionary. I’d settle forluck.It’s betweenlubricateandlucre,which are also applicable words to my current situation.
It’s a beautiful, balmy evening, and when I show up at the tavern, Craft Night is already in session upstairs. Shelby saved a place for me on the couch, so I sit down with my crochet hook and try to remember how to make a magic circle. She’s knitting, while Keelie and Colonel’s assistant, Riley, are also crocheting, and Nathan is doing a saucy cross-stitch with a curse word and flowers. Hunter’s sister, Edie, is at a table nearby making adorable animals out of some sort of clay. I haven’t seen her since the Chamber meeting, when we never got a chance to speak and I thought she was just a pretty blonde sitting too close to my crush. I’m a little nervous about meeting her, but she gives me a smile and waves.
“So how long have you guys been doing Craft Night?” I ask the group at large.
“On and off for years,” Shelby tells me. “Some of our moms used to do this, back in the late nineties, I think? Farrah, too. She still has her BeDazzler. That’s why she lets us keep doing it.”
“So it’s always the same people?”
“People come and go,” Nathan says with an eye roll. “But we’re the lifers. Riley is pretty new. Lindy comes sometimes, but one ofher cats is about to have kittens, so she’s sitting by the nest. Emmy quit coming a while back after some nasty business where her boyfriend almost got thrown out of the bar.”
“Speaking of crafty, how’s it going with Hunter?” Shelby asks.
Nathan picks up his embroidery hoop and squishes on the couch between us. “Yes! Do tell. I am dying to hear.”
“Um.” I look over at Edie, who is studiously working with her clay and not looking up. “I do not kiss and tell.”
“But that means you kissed!” Nathan crows. “I knew it.”
“If y’all say another word about kissing my brother, I am going to leave,” Edie says, but in a friendly way. “Unless you want me to show Rhea the mullet he had in eighth grade.”
“I mean, I think we all want to see that,” Keelie says.
Shelby giggles. “I saw it. It was hilarious.”
“Mullets are back.” Riley sighs. “Unfortunately.”
They keep gossiping, but not about me, thank goodness. I learn about Lindy’s cats, Colonel’s problem with online slot machines, Keelie’s crazy donkey, Barb’s infatuation with the much younger UPS guy. It’s so nice to just sit here and feel like part of a group, and when Farrah comes upstairs to take our orders herself because the bar is packed, I get the special and thank her for letting us hang out.
She looks around the room, her glittery blue eyes going misty. “When I was your age, we did the same thing. Me, Marla, Elizabeth, Shelby’s mama, your mama, Cash and Keelie’s mama. It’s good to have young blood around. Kids have to get out and be kids, you know?”
