The Butterfly Whisperer

by Lisa Moreau

  “Thanks. The shower felt wonderful. What’s all this?” Jordan eyed milk, sugar, chocolate powder, salt, vanilla extract, and a saucepan on the counter.

  “Hot chocolate. Remember?”

  “Yeah…but…don’t I just nuke some water and scoop in chocolate?”

  “Au contraire. In the country, this is how we make proper hot chocolate.” Sophie handed Jordan a notecard.

  “A recipe?”

  “Okay. I’m outta here. Just don’t burn the place down.”

  Jordan watched as Sophie sashayed to the bathroom, but not before giving Mr. Limpet a couple of food pellets. She stared at the items on the counter, a little nervous about the task ahead since she rarely cooked―if hot chocolate was considered cooking. At least it took her mind off wet, naked Sophie in the shower. Jordan studied the notecard before combining cocoa, sugar, water, and salt in the saucepan. The mixture boiled as she stirred vigorously for several minutes. Reducing the heat, she then added milk and vanilla. Finally, Jordan tasted a spoonful of the drink, pleased with the outcome. She turned the heat down further to keep it warm until Sophie finished in the bathroom. Jordan didn’t want to dig, but hot chocolate required marshmallows, so she scavenged through the cabinets until she found a bag in the cupboard.

  Sophie emerged wearing red sweat pants and a white T-shirt, her hair in a ponytail. She looked comfortable and amazingly adorable.

  “Mmm…that smells great.” Sophie peered into the saucepan.

  “I hope you don’t mind but I found some marshmallows.”

  “That’s perfect.” Sophie looked at the clock, which made Jordan worry she’d overstayed her welcome. “I didn’t realize it’s already seven. Are you hungry?”

  “No. Surprisingly I’m not.”

  “Me either. So, I was thinking we could be unhealthy and have cookies and hot chocolate, and maybe I could put a movie on. What do you think?”

  “Sounds great.” Jordan couldn’t stop grinning at what sounded like the best idea she’d heard…ever.

  Jordan poured the drinks while Sophie arranged chocolate-chip cookies on a plate. They carried everything into the living room and set it on the coffee table. Jordan made herself comfortable on the couch while Sophie rummaged through DVDs.

  “What movies do you have?” Jordan asked.

  Sophie slyly grinned as she popped in a disc. She turned off the lamp, so the only light was coming from the flickering TV screen, and sat next to Jordan.

  “Seriously? This is what we’re gonna watch?” Jordan laughed.

  “It’s about time you see The Incredible Mr. Limpet. I can’t believe it’s taken over ten years for you to finally watch it with me.” Sophie grabbed a pillow and hugged it.

  “Shouldn’t we move the aquarium over so Mr. Limpet can watch it with us?”

  “He’s already seen it at least a dozen times.”

  When Sophie reached to grab the hot chocolate, her leg grazed Jordan’s thigh. It was a simple, innocent thing, yet Jordan couldn’t think about anything except the point where their skin met. Heat surged through her body as her pulse raced. Slowly, Jordan inched away. She’d never be able to concentrate on the movie with Sophie so close.

  Jordan settled into the couch and leaned her head back, her eyelids heavy. It had been a long day, and she hadn’t realized how tired she was until she allowed herself to relax. Maybe she could just shut her eyes for a second. Sophie was so engrossed in the movie she probably wouldn’t even notice. The next thing Jordan knew, Sophie was jabbing her arm, hard.

  “You’re sleeping!”

  Jordan bolted upright and opened her eyes wide. “Am not. Well, okay, maybe a little.” She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “But it’s a cartoon. What happened to the real people? Don Knotts turned into a fish, for Christ’s sake. And there’s no way his glasses would stay on underwater. That’s not even realistic.”

  “It’s not supposed to be realistic, you killjoy.” Sophie peered at Jordan sideways. “What? Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “Nothing. It’s just…I’m having fun. With you.”

  Sophie’s eyes softened, a slight grin on her lips. “I’m having fun, too.”

  “So, I guess we’re becoming friends again?”

  “Mmm…maybe.” Sophie smiled widely.

  They finished watching the movie in silence. When Sophie clicked off the TV, they heard rain pummel the rooftop like a machine gun. Thunder rumbled in the distance as lightning flashed through the window.

  “It’s really storming,” Sophie said. “It’s probably not safe for you to drive. If you want…you can stay the night. My couch folds out into a bed.”

  It took Jordan longer than necessary to politely decline the offer. The thought of sleeping a few feet away from Sophie made her tingle from head to toe. She needed to keep her emotions in check. It was great to be friends again, but she was in Monarch for one reason only: to do her time so she could sell the land and get the hell out of there.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Family Reunion

  This was about the silliest thing Jordan had ever done. She was sitting in her car on Main Street, tapping her forehead with her fingertips. Sophie had said to tap five times, but being an overachiever she was going for ten. With her luck, she’d probably have little bruises on various body parts since she was thumping with vigor. About halfway through the meridian tapping, her cell phone rang. Normally she’d ignore it, but it was Doug.

  “Hey, boss. How was your first week in butterfly hell?”

  “Has it only been a week? God, it feels like I’ve been here forever. Remember that girl I told you about? Sophie? Well, she not only lives here but runs the Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary.”

  “Whoa. Seriously!? When did you find out? Why didn’t you call me? Am I not your best friend?”

  “Yes, Dougie. You’re my best bud,” Jordan said with a chuckle.

  “So what did she say? What happened?”

  “Well, she’s understandably angry at me, but I think she’s warming up. And get this…she’s a lesbian.”

  “What?! The love of your life is a lesbo? I’m getting chills here. Did you ask her out? What did she say when you told her you play for the same team?”

  “Well, actually…I haven’t told her yet.”

  “Wait a sec. I must have a bad connection. You didn’t tell her you’re gay? Why not? Does she have a girlfriend?”

  “No. It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated, my ass. You’re fucking scared.”

  Jordan groaned. “No psychoanalysis, please.”

  “You’re going to have to open your heart to someone, sweetie. And this girl sounds like the perfect one.”

  “Perfect, huh? Sure, aside from the fact that I’m about to put her out of a job and sell the land she loves. Can we not talk about this right now? I’m having a mini-panic attack. I’m about to meet with my dad.” Jordan looked at her watch. “In fact, I need to go. He’ll be here any minute.”

  “All right, but promise to call me afterward. Good luck.”

  “I will. Talk to you later.”

  She needed luck, and lots of it. Jordan had no idea what she’d say to her father or how he’d react. At least he’d agreed to meet, which must be a good sign. Either that or he wanted the opportunity to spit in her face. She was glad she’d suggested Bertha’s. It was a warm, homey place. Maybe it’d help her relax. Jordan continued to stimulate her meridian points, and after she was done, she actually felt calmer. Maybe there was something to this stuff after all.

  Jordan sat upright in the driver’s seat. She didn’t have any reason to be so nervous. She had the upper hand here. Her father had thrown her out, and despite what he thought, she’d done nothing wrong. She was a strong, successful, independent woman. I am woman, hear me roar! Jordan pumped her fist in the air, but her resolve quickly melted like butter on a hot skillet when her father entered the cafe. In thirty seconds, she’d gone from a lion to a cub.

  Jordan took a shaky
breath, opened her car door, and walked to the coffee shop. The moment she entered, she spotted her father sitting in a corner booth. He looked nervous, which gave her an ounce of satisfaction. Bertha shot her a sympathetic look as she walked to the bar.

  “Can I get two coffees?” Jordan asked.

  “Coming right up.” Bertha poured two cups and placed them in front of Jordan. “Nervous?”

  Jordan stuck her hands in her pockets. “You could say that. I haven’t talked to my father in ten years.”

  “I can’t imagine you could have done anything so horrible that would make him throw you out.” At first Jordan was surprised Bertha knew about her past, but then she remembered that the coffee shop was the center of the gossip mill. “You’re a wonderful, intelligent, nice, beautiful woman. Anyone would be honored to have you as their daughter. Anyone with a right mind, anyway.” Bertha shot Jordan’s father a dirty look.

  The center of Jordan’s chest warmed, and a hard lump formed in her throat. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was about to cry. She’d spent most of her life not feeling good enough. To have someone say, with such honest conviction, that she was worthy of her father’s love, meant everything.

  Jordan cleared her throat. “Thank you. You’re a good friend, Bertha.”

  “I just tell it like it is.” Bertha patted her arm and winked.

  Jordan glanced at her father. “Guess I should get this over with.”

  “I’m here if you need me.”

  Jordan smiled, hoping Bertha knew how much her words meant to her. They barely knew each other, but she’d been more hospitable than her own family had. Jordan took a deep breath and walked across the cafe.

  “Hi, Dad.” She put the cups on the table and slid into the booth.

  “Jordan.” He blew into the steaming coffee, avoiding eye contact.

  “Did you want cream and sugar, because I can get―”

  “No, this is fine.”

  Jordan took a sip and snuck peeks at her father over the rim of the cup. Her breath caught when he looked directly at her. She’d forgotten how intense his dark eyes could be, like two cold cast-iron skillets. She looked down, needing to break the contact.

  “Why did you want to see me?” Charles asked.

  Okay, right to the point. No small talk.

  “Honestly, I’m here for one reason only. And that’s because of Grandmother.” Charles was stone-faced, aside from a twitch in his left eye. “She wrote me a letter demanding that I live in Monarch for two months, have contact with you twice, and try to make amends before I’m allowed to take over the land and the sanctuary.”

  “I should’ve figured she’d try something like this. Haunting me from the grave.” Charles shook his head.

  “Personally, I didn’t think she’d care one way or the other if we reconciled. And I don’t understand why she’d leave me anything. We weren’t close.”

  “She’s doing it to get back at me.”

  “Why?”

  Charles paused, as though choosing his words carefully. “So, you only wanted to see me because of the will?”

  “Yes. But…maybe Grandmother is right. Maybe we should at least talk about what happened.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. You went to live with your mother.”

  Jordan glared at her father. “Yes, because I had to. It wasn’t exactly my choice.”

  “You didn’t put up a fight.”

  Heat rose to Jordan’s face as a pulse pounded in her ears. “I was eighteen! You threw me out! You bought me a plane ticket, shoved it into my hand, and told me to leave. Where else was I supposed to go? I didn’t have any money, no other family except for you and Grandmother. I told you I didn’t want to leave, but you were irate. I’m not sure if you know this, Dad, but you’re not the easiest person to talk to.”

  Anger flashed in Charles’s ebony eyes. “You had a good life. I took care of you for eighteen years, and this is the thanks I get?”

  “Yes, Dad. You took good care of me until I disgraced you by having feelings for my best friend. Then you took college away from me. You took my home away from me. You took her away from me.”

  “We’re done here.” Charles slid out the booth and threw a five-dollar bill on the table. Before Jordan could utter another word he was gone.

  Well, that was about as much fun as a vanilla ice cream in the dirt. And she’d probably have more luck winning the lottery than getting him to meet her again. Sophie was insane if she expected Jordan to forgive her father. Why would she want to forgive a man like that?

  “I don’t mean to be nosy, but are you okay?” Mabel asked as she approached Jordan’s table.

  “I’m fine. My dad and I have a…challenging relationship, but I guess you probably already know that.”

  Mabel sat opposite Jordan in the booth. “I don’t know Charles very well, but he does always seem to have a scowl on his face. Nothing like Frances.”

  “You knew my grandmother?”

  “Not very well, but I saw her a few times with Madame Butterfly.” Mabel grinned widely. “Hey, you know what you need? Happy hour!”

  Jordan raised her coffee cup high in the air. “Actually, Mabel, I think you might be onto something there.”

  Mabel grabbed a napkin, jotted something down, and handed it to Jordan. “It’s this Thursday at the library. Well, I better get back to the bookstore before Molly sends out a search party. See you Thursday!”

  Jordan studied the directions on the napkin. The Library must be a new bar in town. Molly and Mabel probably weren’t the girls-gone-wild type, but a heavy dose of cheap booze sounded pretty good about now.

  Jordan glared at her cell phone on the table as it dinged with a text from Bibi.

  I miss you and am sending a gift your way soon.

  Jordan didn’t respond, mostly because she couldn’t think of anything nice to say.

  *

  Sophie looked at her watch and frowned. It was almost eleven and Jordan wasn’t in yet. How long could it take to drink coffee? Maybe things hadn’t gone well with her father and she was playing hooky. Disappointment bubbled within Sophie. She didn’t want to admit it, but after only a week she’d gotten used to having Jordan around. She gazed at the caterpillars, hoping they’d take her mind off the hazel-eyed beauty. Excitement shot through her solar plexus when Jordan opened the door.

  “Hey,” Jordan said as she plopped her backpack on a table and shuffled toward Sophie. “Wow, the kids are really growing. Why’d you put them in the same container?”

  “I figured since they’re practically twins they shouldn’t be separated. It’s okay to keep a few caterpillars in one enclosure as long as it isn’t crowded.”

  “What are they eating?”

  “Their skin.” Sophie laughed at the disgust on Jordan’s face. “They’re molting. It’s normal.”

  “Guys, you should really try the Italian sub from Bertha’s. It’s sooo much better than what you’re munching on. Is that one trying to escape?” Jordan pointed to a caterpillar crawling up the side.

  “No. They do that when they’re getting ready to spin a cocoon, which should be by the end of this week.”

  “Really? So we’ll get to see them do that?” Jordan’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “When do they become butterflies?”

  “After they enter the chrysalis stage, it’ll be about ten to fourteen days, so around the end of December.”

  “Now that’s something I’d really love to see. It’s kinda sad, though. They won’t be caterpillars anymore. I’ve gotten used to having them around. It’s like a death.”

  “Actually, that’s the metaphor for the cocoon stage. But then look at what they’ll become. Beautiful butterflies.”

  “But we’ll have to let them go then.” Jordan walked to a chair, plopped down, and slid low into the seat, looking like she was about to face the guillotine.

  “It’s not that depressing, is it?”

  “It’s not the butterflies.”
/>
  “Did things not go well with your dad?”

  Jordan responded with a grunt, sadness simmering in her eyes.

  “How about we get out of here and take a walk on the beach?” Sophie grabbed Jordan’s hand, pulled her up, and practically pushed her out the door.

  Even though the sun was shining, the wind was gusty and brisk. Sophie stuffed her hands into her pockets and pulled her jacket tighter around herself. She peered at Jordan, who seemed lost in her own world. As they walked along the shore in silence, they occasionally jumped back as the waves washed toward them.

  Sophie stopped abruptly and picked up a sliver of paper in the sand. “Look, it’s from a fortune cookie. Now if this isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.”

  A slow smile crept on Jordan’s face.

  “What’s so funny?” Sophie asked.

  “You, but in a cute way. So, what’s your fortune say?”

  Sophie looked at the paper and read, “Exciting times are coming your way.”

  “In bed,” Jordan said.

  “What?”

  “You’re supposed to say in bed after reading a fortune.”

  “You just made that up.” Sophie nudged Jordan’s shoulder.

  “No, seriously. You’ve never heard that before?”

  “That must be an LA thing.”

  “It’s an everybody thing.” Jordan grabbed the paper and read, “Exciting times are coming your way…in bed.”

  “It does sound better your way,” Sophie said, surprised by her sultry tone.

  “Well, exciting in bed isn’t something I’d know about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The last person I dated said I was a cold fish.” Jordan closed her eyes and groaned loudly. “Oh, my God. Why did I just say that?”

  “No way. That can’t be true. You’re…sexy.”

  Jordan kept her eyes closed and shook her head. “Please forget I said that.” She squinted one eye open. “Please?”

  Sophie smiled. “Okay, but I still don’t buy it.”

  They walked a bit farther down the beach until Sophie suggested they sit in the sand and enjoy the view. The water was blue-green, with calm waves cascading onto the shore. As beautiful as the surroundings were, Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off Jordan. She marveled at her long eyelashes, perfect nose, and sensuous lips. Jordan’s mood-ring eyes were the exact color of the ocean, which for her meant she was nervous.