Page 95 of Salty Pickle

From far below, I hear, “What the hell? It’s raining shit?”

I don’t dare look down. I sit with Matilda, making sure she isn’t visible from below. “That was not a good plan, Miss Goat.”

She lowers her head. I know what’s coming next, so I release her and hurry to the door before she can butt me.

When I slide it closed, she’s glaring in my direction.

We’re never going to be friends, it seems.

It’s time to get going if I want to allow for bad weather. I head to the bedroom and stroke Lucy’s hair. “Time to go, sleepyhead.”

She stirs, then her eyes fly open. “Are we late?”

“A little early. I want to give us extra time since it’s been raining.”

“Oh! I need to check on Matilda.”

“Already done.” I take her hands and help her sit up.

She slides her feet into her shoes. “Thank you. I need to put those cookies away.”

“Already done.”

“Is the oven off?”

“I checked.”

“Oh.” She runs her hands through her hair. “Then I guess we’re ready.”

The rain slows us down on the island, but we come out of the Lincoln tunnel to bright skies.

We have to stop for Lucy to pee, which is becoming wildly frequent.

“You sure nothing’s wrong?” I ask as she dashes back into the car.

“I think he’s head-butting my bladder.”

“The goat tried butting me again on the balcony today?”

“What did you do?”

I laugh. “Whatever it is, it’s my fault?”

She takes my hand. “She’s my baby. My first baby.”

I get that. I don’t quite understand it, not when she’s growing a human baby, but I respect her feelings about it.

“She pooped off the balcony. I noticed there’s been less to clean up lately. I’m worried she’s been doing it when we haven’t noticed.”

“Do you think anyone has guessed where it’s coming from?”

“Not sure. At least we’re far enough down the building from where Jerry stands that he won’t put two and two together.”

“You mean doo and doo?”

I shake my head. This is my life now. Poop jokes.

Lucy is overcome with giggles. We pull into the parking lot of the clinic.

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