“Dude, they sell all kinds of out-of-season stuff at the farmer’s market. It’s all grown here, too.” Roscoe leaned against the counter as the chicken sizzled. “They say all the produce is magically delicious. I didn’t ask questions, and I wanted a couple watermelons.”
I looked back at the far counter again. “Where’s the other one?”
Roscoe cleared his throat and patted his stomach. “Well, I wanted to test to see if it was as good as they said.”
“I didn’t really know what to get Adam, so I just put five hundred dollars into a card.”
“Jeez, Cody. That’s a lot of money. You sure about that?”
“It’s his money. I’ve been telling him that I’m holding onto it for rent, but I’ve really been putting most of it away in a safe for him later so he won’t spend it.”
Roscoe rubbed my head. “Yer just so stinkin’ good. Ya know?”
“Tell that to Adam. He still thinks I’m trying to backstab him and take Austin away.”
“Those two are so confusing. One day they hate each other and the next they’re fine.”
I walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door, noting the two-gallon jugs full of purple liquid. “Apparently, we don’t know as much as we did. Is this Kool-aid?”
“Yeah. I ain’t had this shit since I was a kid… I think.”
“Roscoe, I don’t think Adam’s going to like having kiddie drinks at his birthday party.”
“Well, that’s why it’s half vodka.”
“Roscoe!”
“What? You said we were allowed to drink.”
“A little bit!” I opened the trash can lid, and sure enough there were two empty bottles of cheap vodka. “How did you even buy this? They aren’t allowed to sell to werewolves.”
“Adam got ’em yesterday.”
“That fake ID has sure been getting a lot of use.”
Roscoe removed the chicken and drained it in a wire basket over a paper towel, his stomach growling.
“Try to control yourself. We do want Adam to have some food left for his own party.”
“I ain’t gonna eat nothin’ yet.”
“I don’t trust anyone who eats an entire watermelon in one sitting.” It was then that something dawned on me, and all the blood from my face drained. “Oh my God.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Roscoe… what the fuck, man?” I ran to the fridge, grabbing both jugs of grape Kool-aid before placing them next to the watermelon. “Are you intentionally trying to piss him off? I’ve gotta pour this shit out.”
“What? No! That’s all the booze! And what the hell are you talkin’ about? When I was in Arkansas—”
“Do not finish that sentence, for the love of God. We need to get this shit out of here. The fried chicken is one thing—”
The front door slammed open, and Austin walked inside with a growl as Adam followed, berating him.
“It’smybirthday, and I don’t want to spend it in the goddamn hardware store!”
“Well, I didn’t wanna go to some stupid bar.”
Adam froze before sniffing the air. “Is that fried chicken?” His little tail began to wag. “And it’s southern style!” He ran into the kitchen with the biggest grin on his face.
