Christmas Lovebirds

by Rachelle Ayala

  Whistling a command, Rob flicked the string and tossed the little bird high into the air. Once he reached the top of the loop, Casey flapped his wings and swooped down.

  “Hold your finger still and whistle,” Rob said.

  The little girl whistled, and Casey fluttered to a smooth landing.

  “Wow. I like him. I’m going to ask Santa if I can have a little bird.” The girl’s smile beamed.

  “You should ask your mother first,” Rob said. “Do you want to take a picture with him?”

  A petite blond woman dressed in a red fluffy-collared Christmas elf costume took out her camera phone. “Hold still, Bree.”

  Rob stepped back to get out of the way, but the woman said, “It’s okay. I want to get one with both of you.”

  “Actually, let me take one of you two.” Rob reached for her phone. With the way people posted pictures on social media these days, he didn’t want people thinking he had a daughter.

  “Auntie Ella, I want you to have a bird, too,” the little girl said.

  “Okay, little Bree.” Ella extracted a five dollar bill from her purse and handed it to the attendant.

  Rob took Ella’s camera phone and waited for his cousin Brittney to coax another lovebird from its cage. The bird was shy and sadly, had its wings clipped.

  As soon as Casey saw the other bird, he flapped his wings and whistled a high-pitched squeaky chirp.

  “Miss, keep the birds apart. They don’t know each other.” He framed Ella and Bree. “Ready? Say ‘cheese.’”

  The bird on Ella’s finger jumped to Bree’s shoulder and spread its wings, chirping and wagging its tail.

  “How cute.” Ella said. “She really likes you, Bree. Can you take a video?” she said to Rob.

  “Sure.” He switched the phone to video mode.

  His bird, Casey, flapped his wings and flew off Bree’s finger, landing on the little girl’s knit cap.

  Great. What a time for him to exert his dominance.

  Bree giggled. “He’s on my head.”

  “Not for long.” Ella laughed as Casey climbed down the tassel of the Sherpa hat.

  Oh no, the other bird had to be a female because she was spreading her wings and bending over. Should he keep the video rolling?

  “They both like me,” the little girl said, her face turning pink. “I can’t wait to show Mama. Maybe she’ll let me have two birds.”

  “They’re so cute. Oh, gosh, what are they? Parakeets?”

  “Lovebirds,” Rob corrected.

  The female bird who was clipped was definitely inviting. Wiggling her head, she chirped sweetly and lifted her wings to provide the male a platform.

  “Oh look, they’re playing leapfrog,” Ella said as Casey mounted the other bird, his wings flapping while she held hers still.

  “They’re tickling me,” Bree said. “Auntie Ella, if I’m really, really good, will Mama get me two lovebirds?”

  “You are a good girl. Maybe when your mama sees the video. Are they easy to take care of?” Ella addressed Rob.

  He could do nothing but nod. His bird was having the time of his life. He was really going at it, singing a love song with his mate. How long were they going? No wonder they were called lovebirds.

  “Yo, bro. You got Casey a girlfriend?” His brother Declan’s hand clamped on his shoulder. “Whoa, look at them go.”

  “Aack!” Ella squeaked and clapped a hand over her mouth. “You mean …”

  Rob quickly shut off the video. “I didn’t want to say anything, you know … But here’s your phone. I’m sure you can edit the video.”

  “Um, yes, definitely.” Ella’s cheeks turned pink. “Well, thanks for the pictures and the fun.”

  “Here, let me help you,” Declan, who never saw a pretty face he didn’t want to flirt with, said to Ella. He scooped both birds from the little girl’s shoulder and gave them back to the attendant. “You should charge double for these. They put on quite a show.”

  Ella brushed off Bree’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, her eyes darting at Declan, who was a movie star. His latest part was the Huntsman in a remake of Little Red Riding Hood.

  “Mr. Huntsman,” Bree said, tugging Declan’s shirt. “My aunt says you’re cute.”

  If Ella’s cheeks were pink before, they were bright red by now. Rob shook his head. He was used to his handsome brother eclipsing him wherever they went. He was the red haired hero in high demand these days with all the Highlander movies. Women seemed to lust after men in kilts.

  Meanwhile, lanky doctors with dark brown hair and Asiatic eyes, thanks to his Chinese mother, weren’t in demand. Especially ones who worked evening shifts on Friday nights.

  Rob stifled a yawn and glanced at the time. He was due in the ER again. Time to take his bird and go home. He headed to the back of the booth to collect Casey.

  “Leaving so soon?” his cousin Brittney asked. “Aren’t you going to stay for the potluck?”

  “I have to work again, but after tonight, I’m going skiing.”

  “Good job.”

  He reached for Casey’s cage. “Come on, boy. Let’s call it a night.”

  “Wait,” Brittney said. “Casey’s a hit with the kids. Can’t he stay? I can bring him back to your apartment later.”

  “Actually I’m headed straight to Tahoe after my shift.”

  “Casey’s raised the most money so far.” Brittney’s shoulders drooped. “You see that kissing booth over there?”

  Rob glanced to where she pointed. “What about it?”

  “I’m racing my sister, Lacy. See who can rack up the most donations. She always wins.”

  “Your five dollars a picture can’t exactly compete with twenty bucks a kiss.” Rob scratched the back of his neck.

  “Why, you’ve been there?” Brittney gave him a narrow look. “For goodness sake, she’s your cousin.”

  “Of course not.” He spread his hands as a show of innocence. “I’m not much of a kisser.”

  “Liar. I’m sure a hot young doctor like you gets around.” Brittney propped one hand on her hip, disbelieving.

  “You’d be surprised.” Rob clamped his lips shut. What was the point of lying? Eighteen-hour days and shift changes didn’t exactly add up to a swinging social life. “I have to take Casey. You still have a lot of other birds.”

  “Yeah, but I just thought of something. I can charge ten dollars if I get both lovebirds to sit on someone’s shoulder. Please, please, please? I’m sure Declan can take Casey to Tahoe. Isn’t he going skiing, too?”

  “Oh, that’s an idea.” Casey would love it, for sure. But then, Brittney had always been his favorite cousin. She was a computer genius and had started her own company before the age of twenty. Socially, she’d always been overshadowed by her outgoing sister, Lacy.

  “Okay, he’s all yours.” Rob put the cage back and noted the time. “I really have to go. Can you ask Declan for me? I’m sure he’s staying for the potluck.”

  “Oh, yes, he is.” Brittney laughed. “He’s on the hunt for his very own little red riding hood.”

  Chapter Five

  “I’m okay. Really, thanks, and yes, I know this is Larry’s favorite dish, but he’s not coming back.” Melisa held onto a bag of frozen peas while fending off her mother and her elder sister, Cait, who stood at her doorway with potholders and crockpots.

  “At least let us put these in the refrigerator,” Mother said. “I know you can’t cook, what with that broken hand, but you know how much a guy like Larry can eat.”

  Larry had gone to the Reed Christmas Tree Farm for their annual fundraiser to drive a firetruck and show children fire safety. Melisa hadn’t planned on having him back, but with the way things were going with her family, they acted as if an engagement and nuptials were around the corner.

  “Sure, come on in. Cait, maybe you can stay with me tonight?” Melisa suggested. “Or I can camp at your place?”

  “Too busy. We still have to pick up your car from the school,
” Cait said as she whisked the crocks out of their liners and set them on her counter. “Let these cool before putting them in the refrigerator, or, if you want to be ready for Larry, just leave them plugged in at low.”

  “Larry’s not coming back.” Melisa threw her one good hand in the air. The other one was comfortably numb, what with the ice, painkillers, and splint. “The doctor only said one night, and believe me, he didn’t let me sleep at all.”

  “Oh, do tell.” Cait said while Mother stopped up both her ears and cried, “I don’t want to hear.”

  “Urgh! I meant he woke me up with silly questions. Both of you mean well, but Larry’s not my type.”

  Cait, who was married to a fireman, what else, clucked like Melisa was a child refusing to take her medicine. “What’s not to like about big, burly men who protect you? Any one of these guys would think nothing of running into a burning building to save lives.”

  “Leave Mel alone,” Mother said. “She’s still pining after that pencil neck who wrote her the painkiller prescription.”

  Strange how nothing was a secret when it came to the Harts. Larry was just as bad. He probably clued her family in after Dr. Reed gave him the monitoring instructions. Not that Rob had given any indication of knowing him. Nope, he’d kept a poker face and dispensed the prescription and instructions as if she were any other patient, a nun from a convent, an elderly man, or a teenager with a face full of piercings. He hadn’t even reacted to putting his stethoscope close to her breast, and he’d definitely not be bragging about her down in the doctor’s lounge the way Connor and his buddies compared notes on their hookups. Which meant Rob was either one of the rare good guys, or he wasn’t interested in women.

  “You mean rubbernecker.” Cait poked Melisa’s ribs to snap her out of her Rob-induced reverie. “That guy makes money off other people’s misery. I hope an ambulance chaser nails his ass.”

  “He turned out to be my doctor, so what? It was the luck of the draw.” Melisa backed into her bookshelf and closed the high school yearbook she’d picked out of Connor’s wastebasket ten years ago. She’d been sneaking a look at Rob’s picture when they barged in.

  “A lying, conniving sneak.” Mother’s breath sizzled through her canines. “Think of all the rides I’d given him all those years, Little League, soccer, playdates and birthday parties. I can’t believe your father let him ride up in the cab of the lead engine 4th of July.”

  “He was Connor’s best buddy, of course he’d get to ride up there with Dad.” Melisa didn’t know why she had to defend Rob Reed. “I never got to.”

  “You’re a little lady,” Mother said. “You had to help me with the bake sale.”

  “It just occurred to me,” Cait said, sneaking behind Melisa and wrestling Connor’s senior yearbook from under her good hand. “That boy was here the day Mom brought you home from the hospital.”

  Melisa had heard that story often. How Connor and Rob had stood on either side of her bassinet. No sooner had Connor thrown her little pink bonnet on the floor, than Rob would pick it up and place it back on her head. Around and around it’d gone. On the floor, back on her head, on the floor …

  “So …” Cait’s voice broke through the merry-go-round in her head. “That means he should be like a brother to you. After all, you were a baby. How would you know they weren’t both your brothers?”

  “What’s your point?” Melisa rubbed her head, trying to remember how it would have felt for a four-year-old boy to replace her baby bonnet. He must have been gentle or Mother wouldn’t have allowed the game.

  “That your crush on the betrayer borders on incest.” Cait fingered her way to the bookmarked page, the “R” section.

  “Who says I have a crush on him?” Melisa dragged her fingers through her split ends. “I haven’t seen him in ten years.”

  Sure, at least not in person. Facebook and Instagram didn’t count, right? As for incest, no way. There weren’t two boys more different than Rob and Connor. One shy and considerate, the other brash and bold.

  “We know you, don’t we, Mom?” Cait looked at Mom for reinforcement, like she always did, being the first born.

  Her mother fluttered her hands as if to say, Leave me out of this. Or perhaps the idea of incest was too disgusting for her Catholic ears.

  “No, really. I’ve no clue what you’re talking about.” Melisa swallowed around the rock in her throat—the rock named Rob.

  “It’s why you’re still a virgin.” Cait huffed triumphantly.

  “Thank the saints!” Her mother clasped her hands together and raised her eyes to the ceiling. “There is a God in Heaven after all.”

  # # #

  Rob dashed to his apartment to pack and get dressed for his ER shift. His skis were on Declan’s car rack already. He still needed his gloves, scarf, goggles, and laptop.

  As always, there was a raging debate at the Fly or No Fly Zone forum where he was the moderator, except he’d screwed up big time with his careless answer to HaveAHart, or Melisa, when she’d posted her question. His answer had been careless, and he was being reamed by the other flight proponents or FlyBoys for not converting her while he had a chance.

  The Clippers had flooded to HaveAHart’s defense, claiming that calling a fireman was the best policy. Even clipped, birds were able to helicopter out of instinct or they could be blown into a tree and have no ability to get down. It didn’t mean they needed to fly. In fact, Clippers claimed that birds only flew out of fear, and that on the island of New Zealand, where no natural predators had existed, birds had grown to be flightless and were just fine.

  Rob waded through the messages looking for Melisa’s response. Nothing. Of course. She’d broken a hand and probably hadn’t been online since her accident. Would it be bad form for him to call her and see how she was doing? Or would that fireman still be there?

  He didn’t know why his stomach clenched at the thought. God knew he had no claim on her and no right to think about her. He’d lost that when he’d lied to them. Yet, he’d done what he’d believed was best in helping a friend. Except, looking back, after ten years of growing up, he wasn’t sure he’d do it again exactly the same way.

  He clicked to her private messages and typed.

  To: HaveAHart

  From: Lovebone

  Subject: Re: Flight

  I shouldn’t have dismissed your questions about your little bird trying to fly. I hope she’s okay, and someone helped her. I was in a rush and didn’t think through my reply. If you’re interested in gently letting her try, I can give you a few tips. Once again, I apologize for my rudeness.

  Yours, Lovebone

  He set his laptop down and went to the bathroom to shave. After splashing on aftershave, he pulled on his scrubs. Some days, he’d change through several blood-soaked scrubs in a shift before coming home. At least disposable shoe covers meant he could keep his shoes.

  When he returned to the kitchen, he had a message. Rob poured himself a cup of coffee and read.

  To: Lovebone

  From: HaveAHart

  Subject: Re: Flight

  Thanks for asking. My bird’s okay. The janitor came with a ladder, and she’s doing fine. You were right that asking her to fly down to me would be like asking her to jump off a cliff. I’d never ask one of my kindergarteners to ride a bike down a steep hill without proper training. As for letting her try, I don’t think it’s necessary. Thanks for the offer.

  HaveAHart

  Rob sipped his coffee and tried to calm his thudding heart. That was that. She didn’t want his help, and he’d have to respect it. Certainly, moralizing about how unfair it was for her to clip her bird wasn’t going to win him any brownie points.

  To: HaveAHart

  From: Lovebone

  Subject: Re: Flight

  I’m glad it all worked out. That’s cool you took your bird to school. I bet the children loved her. Do you have a picture of her? What species is she?

  Feel free to chat anytime.

>   Yours, Lovebone

  Ugh, he was sounding like a pickup artist. Even worse, he wasn’t fessing up that he was the ER doctor who’d attended to her, but then it was probably a violation of some rule for him to contact her as a doctor to a patient, even if he’d known her since childhood.

  Rob clicked to her profile. No picture, of course. A beautiful woman like Melisa would be inundated with come-ons from creepers. Likewise, there wasn’t a picture of her bird, either.

  He typed out another message.

  To: HaveAHart

  From: Lovebone

  Subject: Re: Flight

  I wonder what kind of bird you have. If she’s small like a budgie or a cockatiel, she can easily fly indoors. You might want to consider a few lessons. Lower all the shades so she doesn’t bump into a window. Then put her on a perch above her cage. Place a toy or food item on the floor and call to her. She might be curious enough to take a leap. Instinct will take over, and she’ll flap her wings. That way, next time she’s stuck, she’ll have the confidence to fly to you and not require a janitor and his ladder.

  Yours, Lovebone

  His finger hovered on the “send” button. Was this too aggressive? After all, Melisa was adamant about clipping her bird again. She also hadn’t answered his last message. He checked his inbox. Nope, nothing.

  Finishing his cool coffee, he deleted it. Instead, he went to the forum and closed the debate. No one was going to win anyone over by arguing and calling names, with each side accusing the other of abusing their bird or subjecting them to danger.

  Nope, being polarizing wasn’t going to win the heart of Melisa ‘HaveAHart’ Hart.

  1. Stop acting like a dweeb on the parrot forum.

  2. Start jogging through Golden Gate Park near her neighborhood.

  3. Observe how Declan picks up girls and practice pickup lines.