by Tawna Fenske
“How do I know?”
His sweet sincerity makes me smile. “You could try asking her. If you know it’s coming, and Soph knows it’s coming, there’s nothing gained by pretending it’s not happening.”
“Good point.” The furrow in his brow tells me this isn’t the simple answer he’d hoped for. “I worry I’m not the best person for her to talk to. And her new friends—I’m not sure they’re close enough for her to share stuff like that yet.”
I move around a sun-warmed boulder, conscious of my arm brushing Griffin’s. “If you want, I could refer you to some local therapists specializing in teens. There’s one guy in particular I think would be great for Soph.”
His brow furrows. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
I turn to study his face. “You’re not a fan of therapy?”
“It’s not that.” He frowns. “Okay, maybe it’s that.” He lets out a slow breath and kicks a pebble off the path. “Look, things got weird with Gabby after she started seeing a shrink. And then couples’ counseling was such a train wreck.”
“Did you not like the therapist?” I’m fishing for details, and I’m not proud. But I do wonder what Gabrielle told Griffin. “Her psychologist or the one you saw together?”
“I never met hers.” He gives a disgusted snort. “Part of me wants to punch the guy. For putting ideas in her head or—”
“That’s not really how it works.” God, I need to tread carefully. “In couples’ counseling—did the therapist tell you what to do?”
“Not really.” He frowns. “By then, Gabby had her mind made up.”
“It happens that way sometimes.”
“Sure, I guess.” Another snort. “Look, I just don’t think her private shrink did us any favors.”
A chill snakes up my spine, but I force myself to keep going. This is about Griffin’s daughter and her needs. “Are you concerned the same thing might happen with Soph?”
“Not exactly.” He kicks another pebble, sending it skittering into the lake. “I just—I worry that’d give her more reason to shut me out. Like if she’s got her own shrink, what does she need me for?”
I stop walking and catch his arm, turning him to face me. His bicep is firm, and for a moment, I forget what I meant to say. “That’s not going to happen. She loves you, Griff. You and Soph have a strong relationship, and nothing’s going to change that.”
His brow furrows. “Yeah. The thing is, I thought the same about Gabby.”
Ouch.
I drop my hand and take a steadying breath. “I hear you. But it’s different with a daughter.”
“How?”
I hesitate. Will anything I’m about to say breach confidentiality with Gabrielle? “You’ve told me before that you and your wife were having problems.” I register his flinch at the word “wife.” Or maybe I’m projecting, conscious of the word’s bitterness on my tongue.
I swallow it back and continue. “But at least some of your ex-wife’s issues centered around problems between the two of you. I don’t get the sense that’s what Soph’s struggling with, and even if it is, you’re her dad. She loves you and needs you, and there’s nothing to indicate she’d turn her back on that parent/child relationship.”
Griff flinches again. This conversation isn’t easy for him; I can see that. But he looks deep into my eyes, then nods. “Okay,” he says at last. “I trust you.”
The breath leaves my lungs as those words land like a punch to the gut. If he knew, if he had any idea—
“Griffin.” I have to say something. Laws be damned, I can’t keep doing this. “Look, there’s something—”
“Mari!” Lana’s voice rings out across the water, and I turn to see my sisters striding toward us. Lauren’s nails flash bright fuchsia, and my chest tightens at the thought of their spa date.
I didn’t want a manicure, not really. But maybe I should have joined them.
“I’m glad we ran into you.” Lana bounds over and skids to a stop in front of us. “Everything’s coming together for the event. Nick got the motorized ladder hoist system installed this morning, so we’re ADA compliant.”
Lauren’s expression darkens at the mention of her ex, but she squares her shoulders like a badass. “Catering’s all set, and Gabe and I got cameras and lights ready. Do we have the okay from the permitting office?”
“I got the final approval this morning.” I glance at Griffin. “Will we need extra staffing? Bartenders or cleanup or whatever?”
He scrubs a hand over his chin. “I’ve got Frankie and Jen from the brewery. Between the three of us, we’ll have bartending covered.”
Lauren frowns. “We’ll need you to be the face of things on film. You sure you don’t want an extra bartender or two?”
“I can handle it.” Griffin shrugs. “You’ve got caterers for all the food, right?”
“Right.” Lana’s wheels are turning, and I can see she doesn’t love the idea of Griff tied up behind the bar. “This is a good opportunity for you to meet people. Mix and mingle and tell potential customers about the beers.”
He folds his arms. “Which I can do best while pouring them.”
Lauren presses her lips together and turns to me. “How about you, Mari? It’d be great to get some on-camera stuff with you tossing out shrink buzzwords about human connection and building a community and all that.”
A funny little thrill ripples through me. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by more practical emotions. “I can do more good behind the scenes. Keeping tabs on community members, making sure everyone’s following the rules.”
My sisters share one of their looks. A whole conversation I can’t hear, though I’m not sure they know that. “Suit yourself,” Lana says at last. “We’ll see you at dinner tonight?”
“Family dinner. Right.” It’s something we do once a month, and if memory serves, it’s Gabe’s turn to host. “Is Gretchen making salmon chowder?”
“Yeah, but without the salmon.” Lauren makes a face. “Or maybe she’s making a salmon-free batch for Cooper. I can’t remember. Anyway, we’ll see you there?”
“I’ll try to make it.” I’m not sure how I feel about salmon-less salmon chowder, but it’s nice of everyone to cater to Coop’s vegetarian needs. “Six thirty, right?”
“Yep,” Lauren says. “You’re bringing wine?”
“Actually, I might bring beer.” I deliberately don’t look at Griffin, afraid I’ll reveal how my pulse races just standing beside him. “There’s this grapefruity kind called a radler. It goes well with soup.”
Another look passes between my sisters. Part of me wants to grab them and conk their skulls together like in cartoons. But another small part likes that they care. That they want me at the dinner. That they’re intrigued by my connection to the sexy man standing so near I can feel the heat from his arms.
I take a step back, conscious of how close I’m standing to him. How much anyone could read on my face about my feelings for Griffin.
Lana tips her head toward the lodge. “We’re getting coffee. Want to come?”
“Thanks, but I’m going to see a parrot.”
Lauren lifts an eyebrow. “A parrot? Like—an actual bird?”
“I’m thinking about adopting him.” I glance at Griffin. “We should probably get going if they’re expecting us.”
He nods at my sisters. “Good seeing you.”
“Good luck!” Lana calls as we walk away. “I want to hear all about this over dinner.”
I don’t think she’s talking about the parrot. The instant we’re out of earshot, Griffin turns to me. “Is there a reason you don’t hang out with your sisters?”
A sharp little knife blade twists between my ribs. “I’m kind of on my way to see a bird, in case you forgot.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He shrugs. “None of my business. Just an observation.”
“Which is what?”
He hesitates. “That you wall yourself off from people.”
“No, you don’t.” He grins, untroubled by my outburst. He keeps walking, slow and steady, in no hurry to get where we’re going. “Families are tricky. I’m sure as hell not in a position to comment on yours.”
“It’s—complicated.”
He grins and bumps me with an elbow. “Relationships usually are.”
I’m deciding how to respond when Griffin jerks a thumb at a cabin to our right. “Alex and Jaya are both home. Soph’s at the waterpark with their kids. Ready to meet Leonard?”
“I think so.” God, what if I’m making a mistake? How does one mentally prepare oneself for adopting a pet that will possibly outlive them? “Do they know I’m coming?”
“I told them I was inviting you.” He ambles to the front porch and raps twice. A frazzled-looking Jaya Cox answers the door, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Griffin, Mari, hi. Come in. Leonard’s in the next room.”
I step into the foyer, impressed by how they’ve made it their own. Colorful drapes line the windows, and the furniture is an eclectic mix of bohemian patterns and rustic wood. A big black and white dog looks up from a pet bed in the corner and thumps his tail. Deciding I don’t have snacks, he puts his head on his paws as an orange tabby slinks by on her way to a sisal scratching post.
I’m remembering now why we chose the Cox family for the show. Sweet, charming, and beautifully all-American, Alex is a lawyer whose Welsh father and Ecuadorian mother immigrated to the U.S. before Alex was born. Jaya teaches yoga and runs a little food cart with the best Indian samosas I’ve ever tasted. Their daughters are adorable, and the whole family is fabulous on camera.
“The birds are back here,” Jaya says as she leads the way down the hall. “Well, Leonard is. We’ve had to keep them separated since he started imitating Alex’s voice to call Paco.”
Alex emerges from a bedroom with a basket of Legos tucked under one arm. “When Paco comes, Leonard bites him.”
I know it’s not funny, so I fight to keep a serious look. “Sounds dangerous.”
“He doesn’t bite hard.” Jaya stops in the doorway of the back bedroom. “He’s more mischievous than anything.”
“He’s got this maniacal laugh he does.” Alex bends down and picks up a Lego. “Scared the crap out of me the first time I heard it.”
Jaya grimaces. “Probably because he does it at inappropriate times.”
Almost like he’s demonstrating, Alex takes a step and puts a bare heel down on a Lego. “Ow! Son of a bitch.”
There’s a loud squawk from the room. “Bwahahahahaha!”
The laughter sounds like a deranged cartoon villain, and it takes a second for me to realize it’s the parrot.
Griffin glances at me. “This should be interesting.”
Jaya’s expression is pained. “I understand if you don’t want to meet him. He’s—not always the nicest bird.”
I study Alex, who’s still rubbing his foot. “I haven’t met Leonard,” I say slowly. “But if he laughs when you’re hurt, and he’s learned to equate laughter with happiness, then is it possible—”
“He’s trying to cheer you up.” Griffin snaps his fingers. “That’s a good theory, actually.”
Alex and Jaya exchange a look. “I suppose it’s possible,” Jaya says. “It’s very upsetting to the kids.”
Alex sighs. “Last week when Jasmine skinned her knee, Leonard started laughing. That made Olivia laugh, and then Jasmine cried harder and—there’s just all sorts of turmoil.”
“I understand.” Probably more than they realize when it comes to family turmoil. “Sounds like it’s just not a good fit.”
“We feel so bad.” Jaya wrings her hands. “We’ve never given up on an animal, but we have to think about our other pets and the kids and—”
“I get it.” I give her my most empathetic psychologist look. “It sounds like you’ve done all you can. And I’d really like to meet him.”
Jaya practically sags with relief. “Right this way.”
She leads us through the door, and we traipse in single file. On a perch in the corner sits a large gray parrot with light feathers on his face and chest. His tail sports a flash of red plumage, and he cocks his head and studies me with pale golden eyes.
“Pretty bird.” He ruffles his feathers and shuffles across his perch. “Pretty bird.”
“You are a pretty bird,” I agree as I step closer.
“That’s a big compliment,” Jaya says. “He only says it to people he likes.”
Alex sighs. “People he doesn’t like get his full arsenal of cursing.”
“His old owner thought it was very funny to teach him swear words,” Jaya says.
“Which we knew when we adopted him,” Alex adds. “But we didn’t realize the issues it would cause.”
Jaya folds her arms over her chest. “It’s alarming living with an animal who shouts, ‘bite my big dong’ at two a.m.” Remembering I’m a prospective adopter, she throws me a worried look. “He’s only done that a few times. Mostly his issues are with other pets.”
“He’s kind of a loner,” Alex says as I step closer to the cage.
“I feel you, buddy.” I look into Leonard’s strange orange eyes, and he stares back with a disarming curiosity. “How’s it going?”
Leonard doesn’t miss a beat. “Help! Trapped in a bird suit.”
“That’s his favorite gag,” Alex says as Griffin bursts out laughing. “He pretends to be a human turned into a parrot.”
From the cool intelligence in Leonard’s eyes, it’s not outside the realm of possibility. “If you’re going to be stuck in a bird suit,” I tell him, “at least you got a nice one.”
He considers that. “Let’s screw.” Leonard enunciates the words so clearly that it’s hard not to take it personally.
“Uh—”
“That’s new.” Jaya looks embarrassed. “We were hanging up our cast iron skillets and deciding whether to use nails or hooks or—well, anyway. He picked up a new phrase.”
Griffin steps up beside me. “And I’m guessing someone laughed, so now he says it all the time.” He gives me a knowing look. “Sounds like a kid.”
I hate how my pulse ticks up at the shared intimacy. How sexy I find it that Griff is a competent and caring parent. I need to stop thinking about him and focus on the bird.
“Does he have any favorite foods?” I turn back to Jaya, eager to present myself as a responsible pet owner and not some strumpet who can’t stop ogling the father of her child’s playmate. “I was reading about things they can and can’t eat.”
“He loves peanuts,” Jaya says. “Squash and peppers, too. Oh, and pretzels.” She sounds embarrassed about that one. “We don’t normally give him salty foods, but sometimes he’ll imitate the doorbell when the kids have snacks.”
Alex frowns. “When someone gets up to answer, he’ll swoop in and steal food.”
I lean in closer, keeping my hands away from Leonard’s lethal-looking beak. “Is that true? Are you a naughty bird?”
“Naughty bird.” Leonard cocks his head. “Misjudged.”
I blink, pretty sure I’ve misheard. “What?”
Leonard stares and says nothing. Maybe I imagined that.
“Misjudged?” Griffin’s brow furrows. “Did he say misjudged?”
“I can’t imagine how he’d know that word.” Jaya frowns. “Jasmine’s music teacher is Miss Judd. Maybe that’s it?”
Leonard looks deep into my eyes, not blinking. “Is that true?” I ask. “Are you musical or misunderstood?”
He doesn’t reply. Alex moves to stand beside us. “Did Griffin tell you how he ended up with us?”
I turn so I can see both the bird and humans. “I don’t think so. You’ve had him a while?”
“Only a couple months,” Jaya says. “He was two when we got him.”
“We saw an
ad on Craigslist from a woman going through a divorce and moving back to London,” Alex says. “She’d never really bonded with the bird.”
Jaya makes a face. “Personally, I think she blamed Leonard for breaking up her marriage.”
“What?” I look at the homewrecking parrot. “What did you do?”
Leonard’s not saying, which is okay, since Alex is happy to. “He started calling out, ‘Oh, Rita—you’re so hot.’ Or ‘Yeah, Rita—suck me hard.’”
Jaya looks embarrassed, but Leonard shows no such shame. “Ride me, Rita,” he squawks. “Hey Rita—smack my ass.”
It’s dawning on me why Leonard might not be a family-friendly pet. “I’m guessing the wife’s name wasn’t Rita?”
Alex nods. “You got it.”
I glance at Leonard with newfound respect. “Who named you Leonard?”
I’m not expecting him to answer, so it’s a shock when he starts singing. I take a moment to place the song, turning to see Griffin bobbing his head. “Is he singing ‘Free Bird’?”
“Yep.” He grins. “Lynyrd Skynyrd. One of my favorite bands.”
Leonard keeps singing, bobbing on his perch. I’m no longer certain about the spelling of his name, but I’m sure of one thing.
“I’ll take him.” I turn to Jaya and Alex. “That’s assuming you’re still looking to rehome him?”
“Absolutely.” Jaya wilts with relief. “Can you take him now?”
I wasn’t expecting to, but I also didn’t expect the desperation in her eyes. “Uh, sure.” I glance at Griffin. “I can run back and get my car to haul things.”
“My truck would be better,” he says. “I’m guessing a bird this size has lots of supplies.”
Jaya is already throwing things in a box, moving fast like she thinks I might change my mind. “He doesn’t spend tons of time in his cage, but it’s good for traveling,” she says. “And enormous.”
As Griffin leaves to grab his truck, I help Jaya pile bird supplies in boxes. “Bless you for doing this,” she says. “He really is a great bird. Just not a good fit for our family.”
“No judgment here.”