Page 2 of Peacocks

The small town of Licking Thicket in Tennessee had not been in my top twenty “towns to move to” list, but then Hunter had contacted me to tell me about the opportunity to buy into a thriving vet practice in his hometown. Fate seemed to have decided for me, and now that I was here, I had to admit I was happy with my decision. The town was much more gay-friendly than I’d imagined, and the vet practice was even better than I’d expected.

The doctor I’d partnered with was funny as shit too. Alva’s dry humor kept my workdays moving quickly, and her desire to move over to the large animal part of the practice meant I could take charge of everything else.

Thatpart of the move was going well. It was the social part that was lagging.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to move,” I hedged. “Work’s been nonstop, and Jay’s place is awfully convenient to the clinic.”

Hunter glanced up at me with a forkful of salad halfway to his mouth. “Jaybird lives on the opposite side of town. The Borris place is half the distance from the clinic.”

I let out a grunt before taking another bite of my sandwich. Hunter studied me while he chewed. “What else is Jay doing that’s getting on your nerves? Couple months back, it was the… lawn mowing? You said he wasn’t doing it right?”

The memory of that day still got under my skin. “He mows in a giant circle! Normal people do it in straight lines. Back and forth. Hell, do it at an angle if you want to get fancy. But this guy? He does it in a spiral that’s enough to make you get seasick from watching.”

Hunter gave me a sly look. “And you were… watching?”

I opened my mouth to snap back,Of course I was watching. Have you seen the man?But I clamped my teeth closed before the words could escape. Hunter didn’t need to know I had an embarrassingly strong physical attraction to my landlord.

“It was hard to miss him when he was wearing nothing but tiny cutoff shorts and work boots,” I muttered, admitting my fetish reluctantly. “Besides, he’s accident-prone, and one of these days, it’s bound to involve arterial spray. I’m just looking out for myself, considering he’s still not charging me rent.”

“Jaybird Proud? Accident-prone? The man is the first to volunteer for tree removal after bad thunderstorms. He has, like, three kinds of chainsaws. He does engine maintenance and rides dirt bikes. Hell, the man whittles, for fuck’s sake. You can trust him around a mower blade.”

An older man I didn’t recognize leaned over from the table next to ours. “And Jay twines a mean vine, if you know what I mean.”

I… did not know what he meant. “I’m sorry?” I asked politely.

The woman with him, a lady I recognized as owning a poodle-rottweiler mix, nodded. “He’s talking about the Entwinin’. You probably don’t know about it yet, being brand-new to town and all, Dr. Lane. The Entwinin’ is sort of like the Thicket version of Valentine’s Day.”

“’Cept it happens in April,” the man said, like this made any sense whatsoever. “And there ain’t no candy hearts. Only good, solid wood.”

The woman patted his hand. “He means wisteria vines. It’s town tradition to weave the vines into a symbol of love and gift it to your sweetheart.”

“What does that have to do with Jaybird?” I asked.

“Oh, Jay.” The woman got a dreamy look on her face. “Folks around here call him the Entwinin’ Whisperer. He does the most beautiful wreaths and items for the holiday. In fact, just last year, he twined a birdhouse in the shape of a tractor for Misty Willard. You might spot it if you head down the Nuthatch Road.”

Small towns were strange. I already knew this. Athens, Georgia, had a law against offering two-for-one drinks. Youcould offer half-priced drinks, but not two for the price of one. They also had a tree that owned its own land, a haunted sorority house, and a building with a tree for a roof.

But at no time did someone craft a tractor birdhouse out of wisteria.

At least now, I supposed I knew what he was doing in his garage workroom all those nights when I came home.

“How… nice,” I said when what I really meant was, “May I please finish my sandwich in peace?”

Ava Siegel walked by with a baby strapped to her chest. I’d learned from her visits to the clinic with her one-eyed cat that Ava always had a child of some kind on her person. It didn’t even need to be hers. In fact, I was fairly sure this one was related to the family that owned a beautiful pair of two-eyed Siamese cats. “Jay also carves tots… and toys.”

I glanced at Hunter and murmured, “Does she mean Toys for Tots?”

He shook his head and grinned. “You’d think so, but no. And before you ask, you do not have time for this story. Suffice it to say that, around here, tater tots aren’t just potatoes. I’ll explain it all to you later.”

I focused on finishing my sandwich while the rest of them spoke around me about Jay’s “eye for design” and his “willingness to chip in” around town.

That part I already knew. Jay seemed to be everywhere, all the time, no matter where I went. It was awful. And wonderful.

If I needed my car washed, he’d be working at the Suds Barn, crooning at the car about how it was a noble beast and deserved to be clean,yes it did, yes it did.

If I needed groceries, he was in line ahead of me, joking with the cashier about the Licking Thicket Bovines’ chances of making it to the state championships this year.

If I needed my car washed again, he’d be at the Suds Barn once more, wearing a superhero costume for a full month before Halloween and calling himself Captain Clean.

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