Page 4
Save her!
The voice inside my head reminds me so much of Mom’s, I nearly cry out in surprise. But rather than get upset, I channel my energy into unloading this budgie off this horrible person.
“Snow bird special,” the guy with a gritty voice says. “Hundred bucks.”
I want to call this man every name in the book, but rescuing the little budgie is a higher priority. My hands shake with rage as I rip my wallet out of my purse and unzip it. I crumple the crisp bill in my fist before tossing it at the man.
“Hand her over,” I hiss, holding out my hand with impatience. “And then get lost. Selling birds here in the snow is illegal.”
The man snorts. “It’s not illegal—”
His words are cut short when Monroe’s boots crunch in the snow as he approaches. I’m grateful for my friend’s intimidating presence.
The budgie screeches in protest as the man shoves his meaty, gloved hand into the cage. Once he has the bird in his grasp, he thrusts it at me. Carefully, I take her from him and then tuck her inside my coat next to my chest.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl. You’re safe now.”
It’s not until a few minutes later when I’m smuggling her into The Icehouse for Bunko night, I realize I’ve become my mother.
For the first time ever, it doesn’t bother me.
I actually smile.
2
upton
“Who even drinks eggnog, much less eats it in pie form?”
My perfectly constructed life blew up recently.
Sandy told Nora I was her father.
To be quite honest, I’d ached for decades for this moment. I wanted so badly to be in my daughter’s life, but there was also Sandy to think of.
She was so broken and hurt by her mother’s lifelong obsession with finding her husband. Sandy fell through the cracks which made her prickly and difficult to get to know.
But I did get to know her.
Fell all the way in love with that young woman.
I slow my vehicle to a stop when a family of geese walks across the road. They’re not in a hurry. In the past, this may have exasperated me, but I’m pushing forty-eight and that hustle culture is tiring. And boring.
It’s why I’m in Budgie Bay and not Seattle. When I received Sandy’s call about the wedding reception, I was already here, settled into a penthouse suite at the Harbor Heights Hotel eating room service from the Plume & Pearl restaurant in the lobby.
I was ready for a change, so the timing was impeccable.
The last goose flaps his wings and gives me a nasty glare before herding the rest of his family to safety. I smirk as I continue on. Guilt tries to sneak up on me for not visiting Mom and my siblings, but I’m not ready for all the expectations and questions. They’ll want to know what my next plan of action is.
Why can’t spending a quiet Christmas with my daughter be enough?
I turn onto Wing Whirr Way and notice an old foe walking by with an empty bird cage, a lit cigarette tucked between his yellowing teeth, and a scheming glint in his eyes. Opie Harker. He’s bad company and a guy Mom forbade me to ever associate with. Not that I wanted to.
Opie runs a bar on the outskirts of town. This is the season to make bank, so I’m curious why he’s selling birds and not working on his business.
Not my problem.
He doesn’t wave and I pretend not to see him. I pull into a spot in front of Wild Petal. My buddy Romeo’s niece runs the cute florist shop. I’d once considered poaching her for the Tailstream River Landing District but then thought better of it. Isabel fits right in around here.
