Page 36 of Talk Birdie to Me

That was not a good idea.

She didn’t know what was getting into her.

“Yeah, Gary and I have a big night of partying planned,” she said, following him out.

Cody stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at her, then scratched nervously at the back of his head. “Again, I appreciate all of this. I’m sorry I can’t take him myself.”

It was a sincere statement filled with genuine remorse.

Could she have misjudged him so badly from the start?

Maybe.

But it didn’t matter. They’d already established that this was not a date. They wanted very different things in life.

But they both wanted one thing in common.

“Don’t worry.” She smiled at him. “I’ll take good care of your pain-in-the-butt bird.”

10

Geena held the back door open for their mom to join them on the patio with a wineglass in each hand.

It was the twenty-ninth anniversary for Geena’s mom and dad, and they were honoring it the way they did every year: a barbecue with their immediate family. Taylor spent the last hour insisting they do something special next time. They’d planned a trip for their twenty-fifth, but the state of the world had put that on hold. Geena agreed they should cash in their rain check for their thirtieth next year.

Geena took the wineglass her mother handed to her and sniffed the crisp chardonnay. While they both had a taste for dry wines, their mother preferred reds, Shiraz in particular. But she always kept at least one bottle of white on hand for when Geena came over for dinner.

Her mother was dressed in a pale green blouse with light jeans and beige ballet flats. Her attire was a little more polished than normal, but she’d dialed up her outfit for the celebration.

Nearby, Geena’s dad monitored the barbecue pit in his red polo shirt with the local university’s logo and a pair of black cargo shorts. Taylor’s boyfriend, Austin, stood beside him while they chatted and enjoyed some local craft beers.

“Are you sure you aren’t pregnant and not telling me?”

Their mother had already asked this question an hour ago, when Taylor transferred the cans she brought into the fridge to keep them cold.

“No, I’m not pregnant,” Taylor said. “And we aren’t trying. Tink is our baby for now.”

Taylor was dressed more casually in a navy T-shirt and jeans, paired with her favorite yellow Chucks and her hair pulled back in a low ponytail. She held her own drink of choice that evening: a can of seltzer she’d brought with her. Not hard seltzer. Just raspberry-flavored seltzer.

Their mother frowned at Taylor and the mention of the twenty-pound elderly feline with a thyroid problem that Taylor’s husband inherited from his uncle. Tink was a giant of a cat, with canines as big as his purrs.

“Tink is a cat, not a baby,” their mother insisted.

Not that their mom had anything against Tink in particular. As wonderful as their parents were, they were not animal people. They were convinced their daughter’s love of all of nature’s creatures was the universe laughing at her.

“You’ll just have to wait for furless grandbabies,” Taylor said. “I promise it won’t kill you.”

“How is Tink doing?” Geena figured she’d steer the conversation in a new direction, hoping that her sister would return the favor at some point later in the evening.

“Still kicking.” Taylor waved her seltzer in the air. “He might just outlive all of us.”

Geena smiled. “Give my nephew a big hug from me when you get home.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” their mother muttered.

A staccato melody blanketed the patio roof, quickly increasing in intensity until there was no way to have a conversation any longer. The three of them moved inside to escape the noise of the sudden spring shower, while Geena’s father and Austin remained on the patio to finish up the meat.

“Enough about us.” Taylor turned to Geena with a mischievous grin. “How’s Gary?”

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