“I’m going to enjoy the view,” Molly announced. “I’ll be right outside.”
No response. Molly hated the silent treatment, but when it came to Galileo, all she could do was wait it out.
Rummaging around in the grocery bag, Molly dug out a granola bar and headed outside. She gasped as she looked across her new neighborhood. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dew, making the world look completely at ease with itself. The only sounds she could hear were subtle noises of the trees coming to life—birds chattering and squirrels rustling.
At least, she hoped they were squirrels.
The silence of the morning was broken by Quinn’s helicopter buzzing through the air. Molly drew back into the shadows as a precaution, although she knew the tree fort wasn’t visible from the air—she’d checked that out over and over again on flights to and from breakfast with Quinn. She looked at her phone. The battery was almost dead. She needed some coffee and to brush her teeth. Quinn wouldn’t be around for another hour or so, but Manny would have the office open by now. She’d be able to get herself together by the time Quinn arrived if she got a move on.
“Okay, look,” Molly spoke sternly to Galileo, who was sitting on his perch, but turned his back when she came in. “I have to go to work.”
Molly could feel herself blushing. True, she was going to the office, but not to go to work. Why was she lying to a parrot?
“So you’re going to have to go back in the cage for an hour,” she said.
She opened the cage door. At home, Galileo would crab-walk over to his cage and pop right in. His little body language let her know that was then and this was now. She was making new rules, but he didn’t have to live by them.
“Seriously, dude,” Molly said. “This is hard on me too.”
No response.
Molly had learned very young that while it might be a good idea to keep your cool when arguing with humans, it was much better to let a bird know your emotional state. If a bird loved you—or in Galileo’s case, tolerated you—it was more likely to cooperate if it knew how you were feeling.
“Try this,” Molly said, letting Galileo in on the fact that she was at her wits’ end. “Pretend you’re a dog. Now pretend I’m just going away for a little while and I’m just going to crate you.”
Galileo turned around and faced her.
“Please just give me a break,” she almost sobbed.
Galileo crab-walked over to his cage, hopped in, and pulled the door closed. As she locked him in, Molly couldn’t help but laugh.
“Thanks, buddy,” she said, covering him with the sheet. “Just chill. I’ll be back soon.”
Molly grabbed a small backpack with her morning necessities, including her phone charger, and headed to the door.
“You’ll be safe, I promise,” she said.
Before she headed down the ladder, she heard Galileo bark like a dog.
No one could say the bird didn’t have a sense of humor.
* * * *
Bale pulled the bus into Molly’s apartment complex. As he turned off the ignition, he saw the complex’s manager pushing across the asphalt a huge cage on little wheels. Bale was pretty sure the man’s name was Mr. Detman. It was a small town, but he had never really had much reason to socialize with Molly’s manager. He wondered if this place was some sort of bird sanctuary. He knew Molly had a giant cage just like that, too. As the man wheeled the cage closer to the bus, Bale knew it was Molly’s cage, or Galileo’s cage more specifically. Was this man stealing the cage in broad daylight? Bale stepped into the man’s path.
“Morning, Bale,” Mr. Detman said.
Bale was continually surprised that people in town knew him. But when you run a tiny house emporium, word gets around.
“Good morning,” Bale said, putting his hand on the cage.
Mr. Detman stopped, as if to chat. Bale thought that Mr. Detman had pretty strong nerves for a thief—especially an old thief.
“Isn’t that Molly’s?” Bale asked, thrusting his chin toward the cage.
“Was,” Mr. Detman said, his eyes running lovingly over the bars.
“Was?”
“Yeah. She gave it to me to watch for her,” Mr. Detman said. “I have two birds who can use it.”
Mr. Detman whipped his wallet out and showed Bale a picture of Romeo and Lancelot.
“Aren’t they something?”
“Yes, beautiful,” Bale said distractedly. “Why would she need you to watch Galileo’s cage?”
“She didn’t need it anymore.”
“Why?” Bale asked in alarm. “Has something happened to Galileo?”
“No, nothing like that,” Mr. Detman said. “She just moved to a smaller place and didn’t have room for it.”
“She moved?”
“Yeah, over by Burgoo,” Mr. Detman said. “She didn’t tell you?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Huh. I thought you two were friends.”
“So did I.”
Bale returned to the bus. He watched Mr. Detman wheel the cage up a winding path until he was out of sight.
Chapter 16
Molly walked into the office as Manny was putting on a pot of coffee—a chore he’d assigned himself when he’d started working at the tree farm. He looked surprised when Molly walked in.
“You’re early,” Manny said.
“I have new hours,” Molly said.
That wasn’t exactly a lie. She didn’t say Quinn had anything to do with her new hours.
Manny seemed satisfied with the answer, poured himself some ink-black coffee, and offered her a cup.
“That’s okay,” Molly said, peering into the oily coffee pot.
It occurred to her that she was probably going to have to get used to less-than-gourmet coffee, but she was going to take all these new steps one at a time.
“How are things at Gilbert’s?” Molly asked.
“Did you know I went to college?” Manny asked abruptly.
“Pardon?”
“I said, did you know I went to college?”
“No, actually, I didn’t.”
Should I have known that?
“You went to college too, right?”
“Right. Actually, I’m still in school. I’m in graduate—”
“My point is,” Manny interrupted, “you and I are both college graduates, with student loans up the butt, and we’ve got these…these jobs that have nothing to do with what we studied.”
Molly wasn’t sure what to say.
“What did you study?” she decided was a good question.
“Bagpiping.”
Molly stared at him. Was he kidding?
“You have a degree in Bagpiping?”
“Yes,” he said. “From Carnegie Mellon.”
“Oh. Well, I think maybe that’s a hard major to market in Kentucky.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What about…you know, going someplace they need bagpipers. Like Scotland.”
“They don’t need bagpipers in Scotland,” he said sullenly.
Mercifully, Manny downed his coffee and headed out to the trees. As soon as Molly was sure he wasn’t coming back, she plugged in her phone and iPad, then raced into the bathroom for a quick scrub.
When she’d accomplished all that could be done without a shower and her drawers full of cosmetics, Molly studied herself in the mirror. She had to admit, with a hot pink baseball cap to hide her wonky hair and a pink-and-white sleeveless—and wrinkle-proof—top, she didn’t look like someone who’d slept in a tree. She slicked on some lip gloss as she heard Old Paint settling onto the helipad behind the building.
She rushed into the office, yanking various cables from her electronics. She had them stuffed in her bag just as Quinn walked in.
“Hey,
Molly,” Quinn said. “You’re early.”
“I have new hours,” Molly said before she could stop herself.
“Cool.”
That was easy.
Molly smiled. As messed up as her life was right now, it was always so exciting to see Quinn.
“Ready to go get some breakfast?” Quinn asked.
Molly’s smile faded. She couldn’t go to breakfast! Galileo was spending his first day in the tree fort. She would have to check on him several times to make sure he was all right. Saying no to Quinn made her stomach hurt but she had to be responsible.
“I’d love to,” Molly said.
Quinn cocked his head to one side, his own smile fading.
“I hear a ‘but’ coming on,” he said.
“Yeah,” Molly said hurriedly. “I would love to, you know I would. But I want to check out the…the cone situation…since it’s my new job.”
“The cone situation will be there after breakfast. As a matter of fact, the cone situation will be there until November.”
I’ll have a job until November?
“I really want to get started,” Molly said, knowing how ridiculous she sounded.
Who would be this excited about pine and fir cones?
“Suit yourself,” Quinn said, shrugging his shoulders.
She watched him head out to Old Paint. It was all she could do not to run after him. He’d been so good to her. What if he held this against her? That was crazy, she told herself. She was a good worker, and Quinn valued that.
Didn’t he?
She stood in the doorway to the office, watching Quinn’s back. He suddenly turned around and faced her.
“Want me to bring you anything?” he asked.
The tension left Molly’s body so suddenly, she felt weak at the knees. He did value her. She also realized she’d love some hot food.
“Could you bring me a breakfast burrito?”
“Sure. Bacon or sausage?”
Molly couldn’t bring herself to say, “I want some sausage.”
“Bacon.”
She waved as Old Paint shimmied into the air like an ancient go-go dancer who still remembered her moves. Once Quinn was out of sight, she walked back to the big trees, noticing for the first time how the cone population grew exponentially as the trees grew higher and higher. This early in the season, most of the cones were still on the trees but there was a smattering on the ground. She used to crunch over them without a thought but now studied them as she made her way to the tree fort. Some were like the pine cones you see scented with cinnamon around the holidays—bulbous with gaps between the thick, woody scales. But others were more slender and compact with their scales tightly closed. There was a surprising variety of colors too, from tan to russet to slate gray.
At this point, Molly knew it was important to take the cones off the trees to conserve the trees’ energy, but she knew the more beautiful cones could also be sold in the shop during the winter as fragrant fireplace fuel, so it would be important to preserve the pretty ones. Everything about the trees seemed new and exciting. This world, Quinn’s world, enchanted her.
She scampered up the ladder, raced into the lean-to, and uncovered Galileo.
“Shit!” he squawked.
At least he was talking to her.
“I know, I know,” she said, giving him a carrot. “Want to hang out?”
She opened the cage and waited. He was still giving her the cold wing.
Molly wasn’t sure how much Galileo understood her actual words, but she knew he understood intonation. Molly stuck a handful of sunflower seeds in her pocket and continued chatting at him.
“I have to get back to work pretty soon. If you want to come out, it has to be now,” she said in her most serious voice.
Galileo digested the information while chomping on the carrot. Without looking at her, he pulled himself onto the perch. Molly tried not to smile. She kept her voice serious.
“I could take you to look outside,” she said, putting out her arm. “It will blow your mind.”
She had no idea what he was making of this conversation, but when he finished the carrot, Galileo climbed up on her arm. She stretched out her arm, the signal that he should climb up to her shoulder. He did so without a word. With him firmly on her shoulder, Molly left the lean-to and walked out onto the platform.
“Shit!” Galileo said.
Molly took that to mean he wasn’t very happy with the new environment. It made her sad that a bird would feel uncomfortable high up in a sheltered tree, but he was older than she was, and this was his first experience in nature. She wondered if it was not possible to teach an old bird new tricks.
Molly was careful not to take him near the edge, should he decide to stretch his wings. With his half-clip he would certainly survive a corkscrew glide to the ground, but why take chances? After walking him around the platform, Molly took him back inside. He seemed more than happy to get back in his cage. He’d had enough.
“Okay,” Molly said, locking the cage. She looked at her phone. She really needed to get to work, to have something to show for her day, but she couldn’t resist unpacking her tree house model. Being up in the air like this had ideas crowding her brain. She opened the box, gently removed the packing, and pulled the model into the room.
The model seemed at home in the lean-to. It pulsed with possibilities. The delicate branches stretched skyward, almost as if it were reaching for the sun. She couldn’t wait to finish her workday and start working on it.
“Okay, dude,” Molly said, tearing herself away from the model and covering Galileo again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You be good.”
“I love you, Quinn.”
Molly looked around and blushed, as if Quinn could hear him.
“Can’t you just say ‘I love you’?” Molly hissed.
“Bite me.”
Molly climbed down the ladder, relieved that Galileo seemed to be getting back to his loathsome personality.
She walked back to the smaller trees. She reached in to pull a cone from a white pine, but the needles pricked her. They were not giving up their cone without a fight. Molly went back to the office to get a pair of gloves.
Quinn was in the office when she arrived.
“Your burrito is probably cold by now,” he said.
Molly was so worried about Galileo, her food order had entirely skipped her mind.
“I got so involved with stuff, I forgot about it,” Molly hedged.
Her stomach growled. Mortified, Molly slapped her hand over her midsection. Quinn laughed good-naturedly.
“If I took as much interest in trees as you did, I’d probably be a millionaire,” he said, passing the paper bag across the counter. “You might want to heat it up in the microwave.”
Molly opened the bag and peered in. The burrito had taken on the unattractive tinge of cooling refried beans, but she was too hungry to care.
“That’s okay,” she said. “It’s still warm.”
“Have a seat. Talk to me.”
Molly sat, wishing she’d pick a less ungainly meal. Stuffing your face with a burrito was not the look she was going for. As much as she loved spending time with Quinn, there was very little about her life she wanted to share at this moment. Luckily, Quinn was in a chatty mood, so basically all she had to do was listen. He talked about a few high stakes games he’d recently played—going enthusiastically into detail she didn’t understand, not being a poker player—and he mentioned a baseball game he’d bet on.
“Oh, and I talked to my Uncle Crabby yesterday,” he said. “He said he’s having a good time bumming around the country. Said he even had a marriage proposal.”
Molly almost choked.
“That was my reaction too,” Quinn said. “He asked how things were up at the restaurant.”
&nb
sp; Molly, about to take a bite of her cumbersome feast, paused with the burrito in midair.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth,” Quinn said with a shrug.
“Which is?”
“Which is, I haven’t been up there,” he said. “But I told him I’d check on the place in a day or two.”
Molly put the burrito down. The thought of Quinn checking on the place and discovering her stash took away any appetite.
“Hey,” Quinn said, interrupting Molly’s thoughts. “You know the place better than I do. How about you run up there and check things out? You can do it on company time.”
Molly tried to control her breathing as Quinn rummaged around in his desk. If she could get her hands on the keys, she could probably make copies. Even if she couldn’t make copies—Quinn’s locks looked pretty complex—she could find a door she could leave open that nobody would see and use her own lock to come and go, while still leaving the place secure. In any case, she’d be able to go back to her original plan. As much as she loved the tree fort, Galileo weighed on her mind.
“Here they are,” Quinn said, triumphantly holding up the jingling set.
Molly gently put down the remains of the burrito and wiped her hands on her jeans. She took a deep breath. Her pulse beat in her ears as she waited for the cold keys to hit her palm. Just as the keys were within an inch of her hand, Quinn suddenly snatched them back.
“Nah, that’s okay,” he said, pocketing the keys. “I should do it myself.”
Chapter 17
Molly was dizzy with disappointment. She tried to think of a way to make Quinn reconsider, but everything that came to mind would sound suspicious. And the last thing she needed to do was to raise anyone’s suspicions.
Easy come, easy go—but even just talking to herself took some convincing.
Tiny House in the Trees Page 12