He looks around, taking it all in. I grab my purse, and Wilby screams. He jumps back onto the golf cart,holding onto it for dear life.
“Oh my God,” he says, clutching his chest. “Why is there a dinosaur?”
I glance over at the hibiscus bush where Iggy is peeking out. “Oh. That’s Iggy.”
“The prehistoric creature,” Wilby whispers, “is walking toward us.”
Iggy blinks, completely unbothered by Wilby’s emotional collapse.
I lean down and pet his head. “Hi, handsome. Did you have a good night? Did you have good dreams, buddy?”
Wilby turns to me, his eyes wild. “You named it, and youtalkto it?”
“Yeah. That’s Iggy. He’s my friend.”
“No.” He shakes his head.
“Yes.”
“That’s it,” he says. “I’m having you committed. I flew down here to make sure you’re okay, and you’re talking to reptiles.”
Iggy flicks his tail, and Wilby yelps and pulls his legs up onto the seat. “How does it know I’m talking about it?”
“He’s friendly.” I shrug.
“His face says otherwise. Like he’s going to go get his gang of other iguanas and they’re going to beat me with their tails until I scream for mercy.”
Birdie opens the door right then, smiling. “Iggy, move, sweetheart.”
Iggy waddles aside, obediently.
Wilby stares in shock. “It listens?”
“Better than most humans.” Birdie beams and then gestures for Wilby to move his butt. “Come here, sugar. It’s been what...two years?”
“Yeah, you haven’t been up to New York since,” he accuses as he relaxes and gives Birdie a hug.
Birdie came to visit a few years ago and stayed with me. It’s then she met Wilby. Those two hit it off, and he always asked about her ever since. It’s impossible not to love them. There’s a reason why both are my favorite people on the planet.
“Who knew that you lived in paradise and commanded iguanas?” he says as he pats her back.
“I’m very happy here,” she says with a grin. “And happy that you both are finally here.”
He exhales. “I might never leave. New York doesn’t seem to compare anymore.”
“Wait until you’re on the beach with a cocktail, watching the dolphins,” she says, smirking.
Wilby looks over at me. “This explains why you’ve been hiding out down here. I’d never want to leave either and deal with the crap back in New York.”
“I’m not hiding,” I say.
“You are absolutely hiding, and I can’t blame you,” he says as he stretches and takes in the view. “This place is stunning.”
“It’s about time you came to visit,” Birdie says as she straightens the kitchen towel over her shoulder.
“You smell like cookies.” Wilby raises an eyebrow. Sweets are the way to Wilby’s heart, and Birdie knows it.
“I made lemon blueberry scones,” she says. “Come in and have one. They’re fresh out of the oven.”
