Danger starts barking and howling. A frenzy of noise that stops our conversation dead.
“What in carnation.”
“Carnation?” I ask stupidly.
She gets up and sprints out the front door, waving her arms. “Get out of here. Shoo! Shoo!”
I follow and glance at her sideways, watching as she screams at the seagulls gathering, but then I do a double-take. There are close to fifty sitting and staring at her with an intensity that has me edging back towards the house.
“Grandma, when did you get a flock of seagulls?”
“Oh!” Grandma hisses. “Your grandpa thought it would be a grand idea to tame them. He’s been out here every day feeding them, becoming a damn seagull whisperer. I try to shoo ‘em off, but look at this. They aren’t even scared of me anymore.”
They all suddenly start screaming.
“Oh, god, what are they doing?” I shout.
“Calling for their breakfast, these little ingrates! Seymour! Seymour! You get back here and get rid of your plague of sea pigeons.”
I think most of Sunshine heard her scream. I know the seagulls heard her because they run forward, calling back at her, their whistles are shrill shrieks, grey and black wings flap wildly.
“Retreat! Retreat!” Grandma shouts.
I turn and yank open the door, holding it while she dives inside. The seagull tsunami gathers on the porch, screaming for their breakfast. Birds one, humans nil.
Grandma yanks the curtains shut, muttering about idiot alphas.
“Single is an option,” she says to me.
I laugh. “You love Grandpa.”
“I do. Help me, but I do. I just wish he’d stop with some of his more ridiculous ideas.”
I can’t argue with her because gathering a flying corps of seagulls is one of the most ridiculous ideas I’ve ever heard.
She rubs her temples. “I will not let them win.”
“Of course, not.”
“Right, let’s focus on you.”
Oh, I grab my coffee and move to peer out the window that Danger’s glaring out of. The lawn and porch are full of ravenous gulls.
“They aren’t leaving.”
“They’ll be here until they get fed. He should have tamed a flock of crows. I could cope with a murder.”
I snicker.
“Stop distracting me.”
“I’m not!” I protest.
She glowers. “Right, in regards to the panic. I’m guessing it wasn’t so much an I-slept-with-Mack panic, but more an I-can’t-trust-myself panic.”
I stare at her. “Well, yes.”
“So, try getting to know them. And I mean it. Explore your sexuality, learn what it is about them that you like. Let your feelings grow and bloom, embrace the romance, go on dates, let them try to win you.”
