“Babe, I lose ya?”
“No. Sorry, I was just picturing Tess.”
“So, back to Santa’s helpers… You want me to come over?”
I really did. Super bad. But he was over just last night, and I’m trying really hard not to expect to see him every single day, even if I want to. I had immersed myself so deeply into a relationship once before that I blinded myself to the world around me. I wouldn’t let myself do that again. I couldn’t. And yet…
“Kinda?” I find myself saying, my voice far from sure.
“Well, when you put it like that,” he jokes.
“You know I want you over here. And not just to get these damn birds out of the fireplace. But…”
He sighs, no doubt tired of having to say he understood. That he got it. He was beyond patient, loving, and truly the best. I just feared I would push him away. I feared so much, and my past was filled with worries. But this fear was a whole new type of fear. The thought of my past filtering into the present, pushing him away, was the biggest of all.
“I’m sorry,” I say automatically.
He sighs again, probably sick of hearing me say sorry. It is an automatic response, triggered from years ago. He hates it. We talked it over when he was at my house for New Years, but it’s still a hard habit to break.
“Sorry,” I murmur again.
“Hey!” he laughs. “Stop it!”
“I know! Sor—” I catch myself. “Old habits.”
“I know, beautiful, I know. But…”
“No more. Got it. So, wanna come over? I promise lots of entertainment, and maybe I’ll even share with you this amazing chocolate cake I made.”
He laughs. “Chocolate cake you made, huh?”
“Yup!” I giggle. It sounds ridiculous even to my own ears, but he doesn’t comment, just laughs lightly.
“Well, how can I resist that?”
I hope he can’t. I know my own resistance is waning thin.
“Let me just finish up here, and I’ll be over. Give me twenty minutes, m’kay?”
“What about…”
“Just leave them for now. I’ll take care of it when I get there.”
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Thank you, James.”
“Of course,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do,” I insist.
“Well, maybe we can work out a payment plan when I get there,” he says in a low voice, but I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Hmm, I’ll come up with some ideas.”
“You do that. See you soon.”
“Yeah, see you soon.”
I don’t hang up quite yet, just stay on the phone.
“Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Gotta hang up so I can get my shit gathered so I can come be the hero.”
I smile and hang up the phone, almost forgetting that I am in the middle of a bird crisis. Okay, so it probably isn’t a crisis, but it feels pretty big to me.
James is coming over.
No hesitation.
I ask for his help, and he doesn’t question. Doesn’t make me feel guilty. Doesn’t make me feel like an idiot for not being able to take care of it on my own.
Now if only I can put my past behind me and get out of my own head long enough to realize that I can give over my heart again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
James
The things that Carly end up getting herself into never cease to amaze me anymore. She always seems to find herself in the craziest of predicaments but it is part of her charm. Part of what I am falling for. Have already fallen for. When I got to her house, she’s standing on the front porch of her craftsman-style home, tennis racket in hand, and… yup, Jack’s football helmet on her head. That bears repeating.
Jack’s.
Football.
Helmet.
On.
Her.
Head.
So maybe she got the bird flu and lost her mind while she was waiting the five minutes it took for me to get here. I decided to just leave everything as it was. I had better and far more important things to worry about. Like getting to my girl. It took me all of five minutes to climb into my Jeep and make my way to her house from the restaurant.
“What’s up, buttercup?” I call out to her, smiling as I shut the driver’s side door.
She shakes her head and shrugs her tiny little shoulders. “I got freaked out. What if they get out and start flying around in the house?”
I don’t even try to hold back my laugher as I make my way to her front step. “Were they going to break through the glass or use their little wings to open the latch and escape?”
“Have you seen Looney Tunes? Animals are crafty and resourceful!” she argues.
“I’ll remember that the next time a roadrunner escapes the Acme bomb a coyote planted.”
I step up next to her and lift the helmet so it’s angled back on her head. “Hi,” I tell her and kiss her square on the lips.
I pull away but she’s still reaching for more, so she stumbles forward a little bit. I catch her as she falls toward me, and she smiles.
“Hi,” she says.
I pull the helmet back down and tap the top of her head, and she laughs.
“Looks like you’re all prepared for taking down the eagle that must have landed in your chimney?”
“I’m ready. Let’s get ‘em,” she says as she throws a fist in the air and turns around to move toward the house like she’s marching into battle, completely ignoring my dig about the size of birds we will surely find.
I chuckle and shake my head, following her into her house. My gaze inadvertently takes in her ass. How can I resist? Tight black yoga pants, light purple long-sleeve t-shirt, and a pair of socks that look like they’re covered in unicorns and rainbows? Adorable.
“Nice socks.”
“Right? It’s like I’m a ray of frickin’ sunshine when I wear them!”
“I don’t even have the right words to reply to that.”
“That’s probably for the best,” she sing-songs.
I stop dead, knowing I need to tell her about my visitor.
“Carly?”
“Hmm?”
“Uh, I need to tell you something before we tackle the birds.”
Oddest sentence I’ve ever said out loud.
“Nicole came to Balance.”
“What?” she asks, her nose scrunching up adorably like she just smelled something funky. “Why was she there?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure. She said she wanted me back, but I don’t think that was really it. She’s gone now. I promise you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for, babe?” I chuckle, not hardly being able to have this conversation with her wearing the helmet, but I can’t keep it from her.
“Because you had to be in her presence again. She’s awful.” She giggles, her head flopping forward a little from the weight of the helmet.
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Well… I don’t know. But I need to tell you something else.”
“There’s more?” she shrieks.
“Yeah, Lily may have come in and heard her.”
“Oh no! Is she alright?” Her helmet bobs back and forth as she stands there shaking her head.
“Yeah, mama bear. She laid into her. I think Lily needed it, you know? It was good for her. It gave her the closure she needed.”
“Hmm, next time video that so I can watch.” She smirks. “Is that all?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“It is. Thank you for telling me, James. But you must know I trust you. Totally. And I believe you.”
I blow out a deep breath and smile at her. I really didn’t expect this to be that easy. She’s so damn amazing.
“I kinda love you,” I tell her, smiling.
“I’m just a little bit in love with you, too, Captain. Now, be a hero, okay? Get these fric
kin’ birds out of my house!”
We walk into her living room where I can already hear the commotion unfolding. The tiny birds are flying their little hearts out, hitting up against the glass every now and then, ashes getting kicked up like a dust storm inside the wood-burning stove.
I bend down, my hands on my knees, to inspect what is happening. Just as I get my face close, a bird flies at the window causing my heart to jump into my throat. Carly lets out a loud shriek and I a very manly scream as I jump backward a few feet.
“Holy shit!” I yell.
“I TOLD you! I wasn’t lying or exaggerating! They’re frickin’ maniacs!”
They actually kind of are. And part of me thought for sure she had lost her mind, and there was no bird in the fireplace. “What the… I don’t even understand how they got in there.” I spin in circles, expecting the answer to come out and jump at me from somewhere in her living room. It doesn’t.
“I have no clue, but yeah, they’re there. And they’re pissed. And I have a feeling they’re either going to die trying to get out or attack me as soon as I open the door.” She taps the side of her head. “This is why I’m wearing a helmet. Not so stupid now, is it?”
“No comment.” I grin.
“Jerk!” she says, laughing.
I walk over and remove the helmet from her head because I can’t for the life of me take any of this seriously if she still has it on. As soon as the helmet is removed, her hair goes in a million different places as if she stuck her finger in a light socket. I kiss her cheek, the tip of her nose, then directly on her mouth. Before I know what’s happening, we’re both panting for air, each of us caught up completely in the kiss, our tongues tangling, breaths mingling, bodies pressed close.
“James, as much as I want this to continue… the birds?”
“Oh yeah. Right. Sorry.” I smile widely. I clap my hands together and rub them a few times. “Alright, you sneaky little suckers, time to go back out where you came from.” I walk over to the fireplace and crouch down in front of the window.
Carly hands me her tennis racket, and I give her a funny look. She just nods her head quickly and shoves it farther into my hands with wide eyes. Obviously, they’ll be tired out from flapping around in here. I’ll probably be able to just reach in, grab hold of one and set it outside for it to fly away to its home.
Yeah, not so much. I look back at Carly who’s covering her face with her hands, her fingers spread in front of her eyes just slightly so she can peek through them, reminding me of a kid.
“Ready?” I ask her.
“Yeah. Just do it already. Get it over with.”
Rolling my eyes at her dramatics and creak the door open just a crack. Nothing happens, so I open the door the rest of the way. Three birds sit in the middle of the stove, surrounded by ash and soot.
I gingerly stretch out one arm, my fingers shaking a little bit, and reach my hand in to grab hold of the closest bird. Beady eyes stare back at me, and a black head cocks to the side a little bit. It hops forward one time, and then all hell breaks loose.
It begins to flap its wings, bouncing around the small space causing the other two birds to follow suit. They bump into each other a few times before noticing the window is open, and one by one they fly out, charging at my face, causing me to scream — quite manly — and fall back onto my butt. Carly shrieks then turns and runs in the other direction as the birds begin to flap around her living room.
I quickly stand up, grabbing the tennis racket, which moments ago I deemed unnecessary, and prepare to wage war. I raise the racket in my hand and swing as one dive-bombs my head, causing me to drop to the ground.
“Ahhh! What the hell is WRONG with them?”
“THEY’RE INSANE!” Carly yells, her voice muffled due to the fact that her head is buried under a pillow, her face shoved into the couch cushion, and butt sticking up in the air.
“I don’t…” I swing again as another one flies down at me, damn near pecking an eye out, I’m certain. “…understand! AGHH!” I shout as I continue to swing. “Carly! Open a door! A window! Something!”
“I can’t get up! They’ll get me!” she screeches back, her ass swinging in the air as her feet dance on the couch between little kicks.
Just then the front door flies open, Jack’s ever growing body filling the frame.
“Mom!? I’ll take a shower and then… Wait. What the heck is happening in here? Whoa! What the hell was that!?” he asks as he jerks his body to the side when a bird flies directly toward his head, turning and switching directions back into the house just moments before colliding with him.
“Birds! There’s birds everywhere!” Carly yells, not even attempting to get up off the couch.
He trips over his football helmet that Carly had dropped onto the floor, glances back at the offender then up at me, and gives me a funny look. I shrug and point with the racket toward his mom, and he doesn’t even flinch before he charges into his room and comes back with a lacrosse stick and gets into a fighting stance, stick raised above his head. The kid has more sports equipment than anyone I know.
The two of us stand facing each other, our heads darting around to watch for the three birds who continually move about, never staying in the same place for more than a few seconds. I lean over and open the windows in the living room.
He looks at me and grins. “Wassup?” He does the chin nod, and I burst out laughing.
“Not much. What about you?”
“Same. I was thinking tonight we should…”
“DO YOU TWO MIND?!”
We both grin again. She’s too easy to screw with. “Right. We need to get the birds out of here. Okay, here’s the plan. Carly, you’re gonna have to man-up, girl. Stand by the front door. Keep it open while Jack and I tag-team these things. Maybe if we keep shooing them along, we can get them out of here.”
“Okay. Yeah. I can do that,” she says, standing up, tossing the pillow to the floor like it offended her, cracking her neck side to side, and shaking her arms out then stretching them above her head before bending down and touching her toes. She bounces a few times then punches into the air with each arm. “I got this. Totally. I’m about to make these birds my bitch.”
Jack and I watch her, both of us grinning at her dramatics.
“Mom…” Jack shakes his head.
“Let’s do this.”
“Okay, Ali. You ready?”
“What did I say? I was born ready. Now you two stop acting like a couple of girls and help me!” she says, still bouncing on her toes like she’s in the middle of a boxing ring.
I raise my eyebrows at her, unsure that I’ve ever seen her like this but finding it oddly hot at the same time.
I turn to Jack. “Okay, you stand here,” I tell him and point to a spot in the middle of the room. “I’ll try to shoo them in your direction with my racket, and you do the same with your stick, only you shove them toward the door. Carly, as soon as they go out the door, shut it, okay?”
“Got it,” Jack says seriously, raising the stick above his head.
“Aye aye, Captain.” She salutes in my direction.
“Oh, good grief. Okay, here we go.” I advance toward one of the birds that’s sitting on the curtain rod above the window. I mean, why wouldn’t it just fly out the unscreened open window just below it? That would be too easy, right? Again, it cocks its head to the side, like its studying my moves. Almost like I’m the one out of place here.
I move forward one step and reach over with the racket and nudge. It flaps its wings dramatically and immediately takes flight. Carly squeaks from the doorway, and Jack makes a noise that sounds very similar, but a much deeper octave. I swing at it lightly so as not to hurt it, encouraging it to go in Jack’s direction. He does the same, and it flies out the door.
Huh. I can’t believe how easy that was.
“VICTORIOUS!” Carly shouts, her arms up wide in a V. She reminds me of Molly Shannon doing her Superstar skit on SNL.
&nbs
p; “Babe. There’s two more.”
“So? Celebrate the small successes, baby!” she says excitedly.
I chuckle and look around the room for the other two birds. One is flapping around in the ceiling, hitting it every so often, and the other is… nowhere to be found.
I jump up and swing toward the bird in the ceiling. It flaps and hits against the painted surface a few times. It lands for a brief moment on one of the ceiling-fan blades before flying down closer to my reach. I swing a few times, and it flies toward Jack, and he immediately swings. In a staggering motion, it soars toward the door that Carly still has open, and we somehow manage to get it out just as quickly as the first.
We all look at each other, breathing heavily before glancing around the room for the third suspect, but it’s still nowhere to be seen.
“Where the shit did the other one go?” Carly asks, making Jack guffaw at her use of a curse word in his presence.
I hear a loud noise in the kitchen and jerk my head toward it.
“Oh, heck no!” Jack shouts. “Not in my sanctuary.”
He lets out a loud cry, rushing into the kitchen armed with his stick and ready for battle. Pots and pans clang, grunts are heard. Carly and I stand next to each other watching the doorway, waiting for the commotion to settle.
Jack comes running out of the kitchen, stick still above his head, but this time with what looks like a bird trapped in the net with a clear skillet lid on the other side. “Open the door wider!” he shouts, and I quickly jerk the door open to make room for him.
He throws both the stick and bird out of the doorway, apparently not chancing it coming loose and flying back into the house, and slams the door closed. He turns around, his chest heaving and eyes frantic, the lid still clutched in his hand.
“Holy crap,” he says.
We all fall, literally, into a fit of laughter. All of us crashing together on the floor of Carly’s living room.
A Better Place Page 25