Pink Flamingoed

by Steve Demaree

  Brad looked out his front window, trying to get his bearings, to get acclimated to his new environment. Although Aylesford Place was a wide street, the lack of trees in the front yard and flat yards on both sides of the street allowed him to see the houses across the street. He looked at each house, recalling who lived there, before moving to the next house. When he finished with the other side of the street, his thoughts brought him back to his immediate neighbors.

  In time, because he was an author, Brad’s thoughts might return to the trees and realize how the trees symbolized the neighborhood. All the trees were in backyards, not front yards, as if to say, “We are protecting you from all outsiders, but we refrain from planting ourselves in your front yards, therefore giving each of you access to your neighbors.”

  Brad was about to walk over to Frank and Cora’s when he spotted Amy coming up the steps. He smiled at her, and she returned his smile.

  “Hi! Hope I’m not intruding, but I was just wondering how moving went.”

  “Fine. And you’ll never be intruding, Dr. Watson. Come in and see for yourself. Looks a little different, doesn’t it?”

  Amy stepped in and said, “Wow! It looks a lot different than it did last night. I wonder what Cora would have to say about this place now?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing. As a matter of fact, I was just about to invite Frank and Cora over to see the place when I saw you heading up the steps.”

  “So, you were going to invite them over before you invited me. Me! The one who’s concerned about your soul. The one who invited you to church.” Amy smiled and stepped toward Brad as she spoke, while he moved away in mock horror.

  “Actually, you’re one of two who invited me to church.”

  “You mean Melanie’s been here?” Amy asked, trying to hide her fear. She relaxed only after Brad answered.

  “No, Cora sent Frank over. Do you mean Melanie goes to church at The Aylesford Church near Aylesford Park on Aylesford Place, too?”

  “It’s just The Church on Aylesford Place, and yes, Melanie goes there, too. Like I said last night, almost everyone on the street goes there, as well as a few who don’t live on the street.”

  “I should’ve known.”

  Brad grew more excited about attending church the next day. He also liked it that Amy appeared to like him enough that she was jealous of Melanie.

  “Oh, by the way, I don’t mean to be intruding, but I was wondering if you had dinner plans tonight, since I doubt that you’ve had time to go to the grocery,” Amy said, hopefully.

  “None, yet. Would you like to go out?”

  “I was thinking I could whip up something at the house, if that’s okay.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  “Okay, how about if you come over some time between 6:00 and 6:30.”

  “Sounds fine, but I need to get home a little earlier tonight than I did last night.”

  “Yeah, we both need to get to bed earlier. After all, we have church tomorrow, and I know you must be worn out from the move.”

  “And you from all the cooking, cleaning, and decorating.”

  Amy smiled inwardly at Brad’s response. Most men would not recognize all it took to entertain. Most men would buy a piece or two of mistletoe and grab some drinks on the way home. Then, when it was almost time for everyone to arrive, they would call and order pizza. Cleaning? What was cleaning? Nothing more than opening a closet door and shoving junk in, and leaning against the door until it closed. But Brad was different.

  +++

  Amy had barely closed her front door when Frank and Cora trotted up Brad’s walk.

  “Just the person I was thinking about. Hi, Cora, dear. Hi, again, Frank. Cora, I had planned to come over earlier to see if you’d like to check out the place and see if you approve of it.”

  “So, what kept you away?”

  “I had a visitor.”

  “Was she about five foot nine and did she have auburn hair?”

  “That’s the one. Is she wanted for something?”

  “I hope so,” Cora responded.

  Frank and Cora went in and Brad gave them the royal tour. Cora was impressed. Brad was a young man with taste. The chairs did not look like early attic, an addition from the latest garage sale, or something of a bohemian motif. Brad had real tables instead of crates, and accessories. Brad actually owned furniture that Cora might put in her own home instead of suggesting it for the homecoming bonfire. Cora awarded Brad the Cora seal of approval, and she and Frank were about to leave as Melanie rushed up the street to call on Brad. When Melanie saw Cora coming out of Brad’s house, she changed her mind, slackened her pace, and continued toward the corner, as if she were merely getting her exercise.

  Brad ushered Frank and Cora out, looked at his watch, and dashed to the shower so he could get to Amy’s on time. Although Brad figured Cora would soon find out where he would partake of dinner, he had no intention of providing the information. He was not yet ready to look out the window and see Cora perched on Amy’s front porch, her fingers wrapped around a pair of binoculars.

  +++

  Brad felt relieved when Amy opened the door. Dress had not been discussed. Brad had not overdressed or underdressed. His chinos, sport shirt, and pullover sweater went well with Amy‘s green corduroy jumper with an embroidered Christmas tree. When Brad arrived, Amy had just finished preparing some appetizers.

  “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble. We could’ve had leftovers.”

  “Oh, don’t you remember? Harry was here.”

  Brad placed the palm of his hand against his forehead.

  “How could I have forgotten? I guess he and Ethel are pretty well set for the next few days.”

  “Highly unlikely. My guess is Harry devoured everything before he went to bed last night. Besides, I needed to fix something to impress you.”

  “You did that last night, before we got back here.”

  Amy did her best to hide how good Brad’s comment made her feel, turned to get small plates for the appetizers, and made a pretense to check on dinner. Still not under control, Amy bit her lip to keep from crying. She was torn between wrapping her arms around Brad and tearing away from him to phone a friend to let her know that if she was not in love, she was very much in like. Amy excused herself for a moment and went to the bathroom to regain her composure. In a couple of minutes, she returned, apologized, and hoped Brad would not make any more comments that gave her warm fuzzies and cold chills, both at the same time.

  +++

  Brad watched as Amy disappeared up the carpeted stairs to the bathroom. He hoped he had not been too honest too soon. One of the ways Brad and Amy were alike is that both of them had the ability to make friends quickly, to feel comfortable around those new friends soon after meeting them. Also, Brad was old enough that he had dated many young women, and he was wise enough to know that he had never dated one quite as special as Amy. She was quickly becoming more than a new friend. Amy was someone who was becoming special to him in a way no one else ever had. Brad thanked God that Amy was right next door to him and promised to do his best not to mess up and run her off. Then, he thought of the promise he had made to his parents, not to marry anyone he had known for less than a year, and briefly wished he had never made the promise. Then he realized that if Amy was the one for him, she would be worth waiting for.

  +++

  While the food was not as plentiful as the night before, it tasted just as good. Brad and Amy had an enjoyable Saturday night dinner and some pleasant conversation. Each learned some things about the other, until the conversation changed to the next day.

  “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you what time church starts.”

  “It starts at 10:30. Right?”

  “Yes, but how did you know?”

  “I noticed it on the sign in front of the church. You see, I’m an observant Christmas caroler. One has to be because sometimes one’s tour guide forgets to give all of the necessary information.�
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  Amy took her cloth napkin, wadded it up and fired it at the man sitting across from her, who fired his back at her.

  “A fine way to treat your hostess!” Amy said smiling, but doing her best to act indignant.

  “And a fine way to treat your guest!” Brad shot back, before erupting in laughter.

  Sunday

  Sunday arrived, the start of Brad’s second full day on Aylesford Place. It was The Lord’s Day, but then to Brad every day was the Lord ’s Day. It was just that this day was set aside by some to gather with other believers and spend time worshipping together. Brad arose early, excited to see his new neighbors again, especially one of his new neighbors. He showered, dressed, ate breakfast, and went to call on Amy to escort her to church.

  “I’m almost ready,” Amy said as she opened the door and smiled at the blond-headed man who faced her. “I’ll just be a minute. Please step in while I put on my boots and get my purse and coat.”

  Amy’s long auburn hair sashayed across her shoulders as she turned. Brad could not take his eyes off her as he watched her bare feet ascending the steps to the second floor. Once again, he was impressed, but he felt she looked even better as she descended those same steps.

  “Do you want to walk or drive?”

  “Oh, everyone on the street walks, except Barney and Bertha. Barney always drops by and picks up Bertha. We save our parking spaces for those who don’t live on Aylesford Place.”

  “Then walk it is,” Brad said as he took Amy by the arm and escorted her down the front porch steps, as they watched their breaths go before them.

  Amy smiled at Brad and Brad smiled back. As they turned to walk down the street, Brad opened up.

  “On the left you have one of many three-story red brick homes in our beautiful neighborhood. This particular home is occupied by that incredibly gifted, wealthy author of whodunits, Brad Forrester, formerly known as Brad Patterson. Mr. Forrester has one wife and four children, but is terribly ashamed of all of them, and so he decided to leave them behind when he moved to Aylesford Place.”

  Without breaking stride, Brad continued to entertain as the two of them walked to church.

  “Our next stop will be the home of Harry and Ethel somebody. Harry has lots of money, which he keeps to himself, and he is not smart enough to keep his mouth shut while in the presence of Mrs. Cora Henderson. Next, we have the home Mr. and Mrs. Birdbath, who have migrated to Florida for the winter. Maybe they’ll come home in the spring, but if Mr. and Mrs. Swallow do not return to Capistrano, we will not sing to them next Christmas.”

  Brad ushered Amy along with his left arm, so that he could match the commentary with each house as they walked by it.

  “Moving right along, we have the home of Pastor somebody or another. Pastor somebody has only one wife, but has three children, the oldest of whom is the smartest because she likes to read books.”

  Amy could not control her laughter.

  As Brad and Amy neared the church, Brad took a peek at the sign out front and continued.

  “Oh, yes, Pastor somebody has changed his name to Scott Armbruster. Pastor Armbruster still has one wife and three children, none of which he left behind when he moved here.”

  Brad was on a roll and continued to walk past the church.

  “Hey, where are you taking me?” Amy asked.

  “I haven’t finished, fair maiden. We have yet to come to the home of the Wicked Witch of the West, who now resides under her home, ever since that fateful day when she was unable to move fast enough, and her house fell on her. If only the house had been on fire as it fell, she would’ve been cremated on the spot. As it is, she is merely the spot under the house.”

  “You’re going to be a spot if you don’t hurry up,” Amy said, scolding her new neighbor. “We’re going to be late if you don’t come on. If you like, you may continue your diatribe after church.”

  “As you wish, Dr. Watson, but I must wait until some time after church, as I have been engaged by an elderly couple in order to teach them how to play the violin.”

  Amy felt good, plus she caught the Sherlock Holmes reference to playing the violin. Evidently, Cora was able to influence Brad to come to Sunday dinner, but Amy was not going to tell him that she would be there, too. Amy liked having the upper hand. Cora had taught her well.

  Brad and Amy walked into the church just as the service was about to begin. Introductions to the Armbruster family would have to wait. Even so, as Brad and Amy walked in and took a seat, many of the new neighbors Brad had met just a little over a day before turned and smiled or waved, except for Melanie, who blew Brad a kiss which Amy intercepted and blew back.

  +++

  Brad enjoyed the sermon immensely. He expected to be a fixture at the church for some time to come, and it always helped if one liked what the pastor had to say.

  After the service was over, everyone descended upon Brad.

  “Good to see you again, young fellow,” Barney said, extending his hand.

  “And it’s so good to see you, too, Mr. Sweet Pea. And it is good to see that Buick of yours. I’ve heard about it.”

  “I must take you for a spin sometime.”

  “Yes, you must,” Brad agreed.

  “I’m going on up and check on dinner,” Cora interrupted, and whispered into Brad’s ear. “But don’t hurry. Feel free to visit with everyone. There’s some cooking left to do. We’ll be there when you get there.”

  “Thanks, Cora. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Hello, handsome,” said a sultry voice behind Brad, a voice he knew could only belong to Melanie. “Have you got dinner plans?” Melanie asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Brad answered.

  “Let me guess. Is she red-headed?”

  “Actually, the invitation came from a he, not a she, and he isn’t red-headed.”

  “Oh,” Melanie responded, somewhat relieved. “Another time, perhaps?”

  “Perhaps. If I can get away from the wife and kids.”

  Melanie laughed and turned away.

  “Hey, kids! Come here!” Amy said. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

  The three Armbruster children approached Amy and Brad. Jill could not take her eyes off Brad.

  “Y-y-you know who you look like?” Jill said to Brad.

  “Who?” Brad asked.

  “Brad Forrester, the author,” Jill replied.

  Brad was surprised that someone so young who lived in such a small town had heard of him, but then maybe Jill was more of an avid reader than he thought.

  “At your service, mademoiselle,” Brad replied.

  “No, seriously, you really do look like him,” Jill replied.

  “That’s because I am him. Or should I say he?” Brad responded.

  “Jill, he really is the real Brad Forrester,” Amy interjected.

  Brad extended his hand and shook Jill’s hand before she realized what he had done.

  Jill pulled away, turned, and ran down the aisle of the church.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything,” Brad called out.

  Jill, having reached the front door and realizing what she had done, turned, and responded, “Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll be back. Please don’t go anywhere!”

  “I wonder what that’s all about,” Kenny said quizzically. “Are you really Brad Forrester, the author?”

  “In the flesh. Now, tell me. Have you ever heard of me?”

  “Well, I knew there was some mystery writer that Jill’s crazy about, but I’ve never read any of your stuff,” Kenny answered sheepishly. “But I will,” he quickly added.

  +++

  “You’d better stop or I’ll tell,” Mallory said to her teasing brother as he flipped her curls. She tried to get away, but Kenny kept following her and continued to tease her.

  “James Kensington Armbruster! Leave your sister alone,” Nancy hollered at her son from across the sanctuary.

  “Mom told,” Mallory stated triumphantly.

 
; “Mom, you promised not to call me that in public,” Kenny uttered dejectedly.

  “Well, you shouldn’t have been pestering your sister in the sanctuary. You know what your father and I have told you about acting properly in God’s house.”

  Brad noticed Kenny’s embarrassment and took him aside.

  “Kensington, huh?” Brad asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Kenny answered.

  “Well, it’s better than Rothrock.”

  “Yeah, but who’d name their kid Rothrock?” Kenny asked.

  “My parents.”

  “Your name’s Rothrock? Brad Rothrock?”

  “Bradford Rothrock Forrester at your service,” Brad said as he snapped to attention.

  “Bradford? Isn’t that some kind of tree?”

  “I was named for the Bradford pear tree. I was. Not really. I had bestowed upon me the maiden names of my two grandmothers. So what do you think of that, Kensington?” Brad asked as he gave Kenny a slight punch on the bicep.

  “Well, maybe Kensington isn’t so bad after all. At least, it’s better than Rothrock,” Kenny said, returning the gesture.

  “But let’s look at this positively. Only a man could have a name bestowed upon him like Kensington or Rothrock. Girls, on the other hand, are merely given the middle name of Ann.”

  “Or Sue,” Kenny added. “But then some parents give them names like Carrington,” Kenny continued, as he saw his sister reentering the church.

  “Carrington. I kind of like that,” Brad said, much to Kenny’s dismay.

  “Jill Carrington Armbruster, you know better than to run in the church,” her mother shouted.

  Jill slowed down to a lady-like pace. She walked up to Brad carrying a couple of books under her arm.

  “Would it be appropriate for me to ask you to sign your books for me?” Jill asked nervously.

  “I would be delighted to sign your books,” Brad said, drawing his special signing pen from his pocket.