F is for Fred

by Rebecca Cantrell

  “I like the plan, but why do we have to use my shirt?” Aidan asked.

  “You’re a guy.” Violet’s patronizing look was much cuter directed at him. “Women can’t run around topless.”

  “Fair,” he said.

  A few minutes later, Violet was buried, shirt over her face and caviar centered on her stomach. Aidan and Sofia were several feet away, waiting. Sofia wasn’t sure she liked this plan. Having Violet get so close to Fred seemed dangerous. What if she lost her hold on him and he went for her eyes?

  Just offshore a jet ski buzzed by, like a giant angry mosquito. Jet skis weren’t legal in Malibu, but nobody was around to give the rider a ticket.

  “You been working out more?” she asked Aidan.

  “My chest always looks this good.” He flexed his pecs one at a time.

  Before she could think of a comeback, Fred landed right next to the caviar and started gobbling.

  Even though that wasn’t Violet’s plan, Sofia rushed forward to grab him. She wanted the bird as far away from Violet as possible. Fred had never actually hurt anyone seriously, but she had no doubt he could if he wanted to.

  Violet stuck to the plan. Her arms swooped up and around the bird, wrapping him up in the shirt. He was a gull in a bag. And he didn’t like it.

  Apparently Aidan was as ready to abandon the plan as Sofia was, because he snatched the shirt out of Violet’s hands and turned so his naked torso was between Violet and the struggling seagull.

  “It’s OK, Fred,” Sofia crooned. “It’s just me.”

  Surprisingly, that worked. Aidan eased the shirt down until Fred’s head popped out of the top. It looked like he was throttling the poor bird, but it was effective.

  Sofia took off the camera and harness. “Done!”

  Aidan dropped the shirt on the sand and Fred exploded upward in a flurry of wings. Enough feathers drifted down to stuff a pillow. A really small one.

  A sandy Violet picked up Aidan’s shirt. Black splotches from the caviar covered the front and black and white streaks ran down the sleeves. Sofia didn’t need to smell it to be pretty sure Aidan wasn’t going to be thrilled about it when he figured out what they were.

  “Let me get the memory card out of there.” He snatched the bird-cam off Sofia.

  Sofia didn’t care. Let him have it. “Well done, Violet.”

  “You were both too quick off your marks,” Violet said. “But it all turned out OK.” She was beaming.

  “You saved the day.” Sofia gave her a quick hug, then peeled Aidan’s shirt out of her hand and rolled it into a ball. Priscilla probably had laundry tips, too.

  Aidan held the memory card between his thumb and forefinger. He waved it at them. “Got it!”

  Everything was going their way.

  That was when Fred struck back.

  14

  The bird shot toward Aidan like a purple and white missile.

  Sofia dove for the memory card in Aidan’s hand, but she was too slow.

  Fred snagged the card out of Aidan’s fingers and kept flying.

  In less than a second, he was out of reach. He circled above their heads as if he was taunting them. Typical Fred, really.

  The memory card flashed in the sun. He had it pretty firmly wedged in his beak, and he was out of reach. He wasn’t even letting out a victory caw. If he did, the damn thing would fall out of his beak and they could pick it up. He kept his beak closed.

  All this effort for nothing.

  Aidan swore.

  “Watch the language,” Sofia said, even though she suspected Violet knew more swear words than either of them.

  Fred flew toward the cliffs with the memory card.

  Violet took off after him. Sofia followed, more to keep close to Violet than because she believed they’d catch Fred. Shoeless and topless, Aidan brought up the rear, still cursing. Violet was getting some choice vocabulary lessons.

  About a hundred yards ahead, between them and the cliff, the jet ski beached itself. It ran right up onto the sand. Sofia knew that was possible, but it was really bad for the finish, so almost no one did it outside the movies. That one must be a rental.

  A guy dressed in board shorts and a T-shirt jumped off. She grabbed Violet’s shoulder and pulled her to a stop. Something felt wrong.

  “I was gaining on Fred,” Violet said, in spite of the fact that the bird was about fifteen feet over her head.

  “I know,” Sofia said. “But—”

  A gunshot popped. Sofia hurtled into Violet and knocked her flat. She pulled Violet in close and wrapped both arms around her. A cold wave soaked her side.

  A gull fell out of the sky and landed in the ocean with a splash not far away. Fred?

  Something heavy landed on her. Aidan. Sofia wriggled to the side and craned her neck to see what was going on.

  Another gull squawked. She looked up at it and spotted one purple leg. A gray square fell out of his beak and wafted down toward the waves. The memory card. Jet Ski Guy caught it, like the world’s most improbably choreographed stunt, mounted his jet ski, and made for the ocean.

  Fred was in the clear. He hadn’t been shot, and he didn’t have the memory card, so there was no more reason to go after him. It wasn’t everything she’d wanted, but it was still a victory.

  Aidan rolled off her. She rolled off Violet. The jet ski was already out of range and heading south. No way they’d catch him.

  “Are you OK?” Sofia brushed sand off her squirming niece. She seemed fine.

  “Of course I am! I’m not a baby.” Violet stood up and glared at her. “Why did you jump on me like that?”

  “I was trying to protect you because I love you,” Sofia said. “Instinct.”

  “If you jumped on me because you love me,” Violet asked, “why did Maloney Junior jump on you?”

  Aidan turned bright red. Without his shirt on, Sofia could see the flush run down his neck to his shoulders. He was actually pretty fair-skinned.

  “I’m a former police officer,” he said. “It’s my duty to protect civilians. All civilians. Even Sofia.”

  “OK,” said Violet. “But what about Fred?”

  “It’s true,” Sofia said. “He wasn’t aiming for us. He wanted the bird.”

  Not that she’d known that at the time. Her heart pounded, and she felt dizzy. She ignored it and went back to brushing off Violet. The little girl wasn’t even wet. And Sofia’s second outfit of the day was drenched.

  Once she was sure Violet was cleaned up, she took her hand and walked across the beach toward the downed gull. Aidan was already standing over it.

  Blood swirled in the water around its chest feathers and the bird rocked back and forth in the tail end of a wave. It could have been Fred.

  Sofia reached down to cover Violet’s eyes.

  “Wow,” said Violet. “Can we eat it?”

  15

  That was the end of Sofia’s work day. She dropped Violet off with Emily at their house. Her sister was clearly exhausted. Van came out into the living room. He was fine, if a little pale. His cast was black, and Sofia dug a silver gel pen out of her glove-box so that Violet could sign it. Violet did so, then started drawing on Van’s other arm. Nobody stopped her.

  “Thanks,” Emily said. “How was Violet? And why are you covered with sand?”

  “Maloney Junior loves her so much he jumped on her and knocked her into the water because some guy took a potshot at a seagull,” said Violet.

  Sofia was impressed that Violet knew the word “potshot”.

  “No danger,” Sofia said. “We’re all fine. Aidan was being goofy.”

  It was a sign of how exhausted Emily was that she just nodded. When things had calmed down, Sofia would tell her the whole story, but now really wasn’t the time.

  Instead, Sofia drew a picture of a shark on Van’s cast and gave him the book on sharks she’d picked up at the market where she’d got the caviar. He gave her a glassy-eyed “Thank you.” His doped-up look reminded her of Yvette.<
br />
  Then she headed back to her car. Before she started it, she called Jeffery and asked him to make sure Yvette’s mother had taken her daughter to the doctor after her near drowning. Sure, he’d pitch her mother about taking over her representation, but that might not be so bad. He’d been doing wonders for Fred’s career, and he was a lot less creepy than the agents for a lot of child stars. She’d heard plenty of horror stories, and over time she’d realized that Jeffery had protected her from a lot. It didn’t make her want to go back to acting, but it made him less annoying.

  She drove home, shedding sand into her poor car.

  After a long shower, she changed into her pajamas and wondered what to eat for dinner. Her fridge was empty. She’d given Fred her last piece of bread that morning, and he’d spurned it. She could have toasted it. Maybe she’d eat a can of tomato soup. She should have bought herself some groceries when she was shopping for Fred’s caviar.

  Someone knocked. Her heart sped up. What if it was Fred’s shooter?

  She crept over to the front door, hand hovering over her alarm. Her elderly neighbor, Tex, stood on the porch holding two big white plastic bags.

  “Chinese takeout,” she said. “I’ll share if you tell me what happened between you and Gray this morning. The internet is all aflutter.”

  Before she could let her in, Jeffery arrived. Sofia opened the door just as Fred swooped toward the porch. Tex scooted past her and inside. She and Fred didn’t get along.

  “Where’s my hood and camera?” Jeffery looked right at her. When she’d been a child actress, she’d become convinced that he always knew when she’d done something wrong. And, this time, she kind of had.

  She went in and got the hood and camera off the coffee-table, where Tex was unpacking white takeout containers with wire handles. It smelled heavenly.

  The camera was covered with sand, and she wasn’t the slightest bit tempted to clean it up. She handed it to Jeffery. “The memory card is gone. A guy on a jet ski stole it after he shot another seagull by mistake.”

  “I’ll have to use existing footage, which frankly feels dishonest.” Jeffery puffed up like an angry penguin.

  “So, that’s the part of the sentence that interested you?” she said. “Not that Fred was in danger because you have him spying for you?”

  “He’s a big boy . . . bird.” Jeffery picked up an empty Tupperware container. He wasn’t wearing his fanny pack anymore: he’d learned his lesson that morning about carrying the caviar attached to his body.

  Fred squawked at her.

  “Don’t look at me,” she said. “He’s your best friend now. All I do is try to save your life.”

  Fred fixed one beady eye on her and took off. He wasn’t the grateful type.

  “Thanks for the referral of Yvette,” Jeffery said. “She’s got potential.”

  “Is she OK? She almost drowned.”

  “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?”

  “I was there,” she said. “I pulled her out.”

  His face told her he was thinking that over. “I did convince her mother to take her to a doctor. I’ll check back in and follow up.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

  “Do you know another way to thank me? I heard about this opportunity that would be great for you,” he began. “It’s a reality show where you parachute onto an island naked—”

  She closed the door on him and went in to eat her dinner. Tex had brought moo shoo pork, some kind of garlic-vegetable thing, rice, and hot and sour soup. Sofia’s stomach growled so loudly Tex laughed.

  In a few seconds, she was spooning down soup. So good. Maybe she should have made a deal with Tex, rather than Gray, to bring dinner over.

  “Spill,” Tex said. “Shots fired?”

  Sofia filled her in on her day.

  “That Aidan is good for you,” Tex said. “He keeps your juices flowing. And look how he tried to save your life on the beach.”

  “He’s seeing someone called Priscilla. She meets all his checklist items. He’ll never find anyone like that again.” She rolled up a pancake with some hoisin sauce and pork. She took a bite and moaned. “Plus I’m seeing Jaxon. And Aidan drives me nuts.”

  “Lots of reasons why not, then,” Tex said. “What about Gray? I think you guys could really work and everyone at the Cove thinks so, too.”

  “All the neighbors are gossiping about us?”

  “Not just you,” Tex said. “What an ego! We gossip about everyone.”

  Sofia took another bite and wiped hoisin sauce off her fingers. “Tell me some other gossip, then.”

  “First, you and Gray. I brought dinner.”

  Quid pro quo. “You know I’m really not Gray’s type.”

  “Did I ever tell you about the time I lived with a lesbian driller in the oil fields?” Tex tilted her head to one side, like a coquette. “Mildred. She was amazing.”

  Sofia hoped not to get any more details about that. Tex had once told her a story about a baseball team that had curled her hair. “Sure.”

  “The point is, human sexuality isn’t set in stone. It’s fluid.”

  She was pretty sure that Gray was a lot less fluid than Tex. But she decided it was easier to nod than to talk about the merits of Gray’s fluidity. Or his fluids or wherever that was going to go.

  16

  When she walked in the next morning Sofia couldn’t believe she was in her old office. The pink walls really popped. White desks and white chairs. A gleaming floor. New plants stood sentinel in each corner. Fresh, green, and bursting with vitality. She fiddled with her two coffees and wondered if the old ficus had ended up in a wood chipper.

  Priscilla came in right behind her.

  “Great job!” Sofia believed in giving credit where it was due. “How do we keep these plants alive?”

  “I hired a service,” Priscilla said. “In case you guys are too . . . busy.”

  Very diplomatic, all things considered. Priscilla was trying.

  “Thanks.” Sofia turned in a slow circle. “The place looks really amazing.”

  Brendan came in and did a double-take. He didn’t look as pleased as Sofia.

  “My staff set up your desk in your office.” Priscilla smiled with all her teeth. She sounded a little desperate.

  Sofia put a paper cup of coffee in his hand. Usually she would have brought one for Aidan, but since he was only drinking Swiss glacier water, she’d saved her money. She had a present for him in her purse. She’d leave it on his desk after she’d figured out which one was his.

  “My original desk?” Brendan took a slow sip of coffee.

  Sofia was already halfway to his office door. She slowed down to let Brendan pass. He should be the one who saw first whatever needed to be seen.

  He opened the door and stopped. She nearly ran into him. She peeked around his shoulder.

  His old desk was back, and Priscilla hadn’t painted it pink or white. It looked like it always did, except it had been cleaned and polished. A new blotter and desk set rested on top, and a leather office chair was pushed in next to it. Off-white walls looked serious, and a muted green Persian rug anchored the room. In one corner a tall plant glowed with health. The room even smelled good, like lemon polish and leather.

  But Sofia waited. She wasn’t taking sides.

  “It’s very decorative,” Brendan said slowly.

  Priscilla looked at Sofia, who shrugged. She wasn’t sure what that meant either.

  Brendan took another long sip of coffee. Priscilla radiated worry. Sofia felt sorry for her.

  “I can see you’ve put a lot of effort into this,” Brendan continued.

  Uh-oh.

  Aidan appeared behind them. She hadn’t heard him come in.

  “I’ll be bearing the cost of the remodel,” Aidan said. “One hundred percent.”

  Sofia raised an eyebrow.

  Brendan smiled. “Then I like it.”

  Priscilla let out her breath in a long whoosh. �
�I’m glad to hear that, sir.”

  Brendan stepped into his fancy new office. “Sofia. Aidan. Meeting in five.”

  Sofia went back to what she thought might be her desk. The other had two giant monitors, so it was probably Aidan’s, but maybe she was getting an upgrade.

  “That’s your desk,” Priscilla pointed to the smaller one. “I had it lowered a few inches so it will be ergonomically tailored to you. It’s not perfect yet. But it should be better.”

  Sofia sat in her new chair and put her fingers on her new keyboard. “It’s very comfortable.”

  “It’s important that you have the right angle for your arms and your eyes to avoid fatigue or strain,” Priscilla lectured. “After you’ve used it for a few days, I can come back and adjust it.”

  “Thanks,” Sofia said. “That’d be great.”

  Aidan looked between the two of them.

  “I have to head out, honey-pot,” Priscilla said.

  Sofia bit back a snort, but barely. Honey-pot? Aidan avoided looking at her as he followed Priscilla out of the room.

  She deposited her package on Aidan’s chair. Considering all the adult diapers he’d left on her chair after the peeing incident, this was only fair. She decided to call the main office Pinky.

  Mrs. Solov marched in. Her shoulders were raised and her steps were quick and angry. Sofia stood up in surprise. “May I help you, Mrs. Solov?”

  “I need to speak to Mr. Maloney,” she said.

  Brendan came out of his office. “Mrs. Solov?”

  “Please,” she said. “A moment of your time.”

  Brendan gestured toward his office door.

  Aidan came in through Pinky’s front door. He had a lipstick smudge on his cheek. Sofia pointed to it helpfully, but he ignored her. Then they both hurried to Brendan’s office. Before they reached his door, Mrs. Solov held up her hand palm out, like a traffic cop telling them to stop.

  Sofia skidded to a standstill and Aidan plowed into her back. Mrs. Solov closed the door with them on the outside.