Page 13 of Recklessly You
“Hey, Mom, how are you doing?”
“Oh, my sweet pea. I miss you so much. Tell me, how’s California life treating you? You lucky girl. You don’t have to deal with the snow in San Diego.” Mom’s voice is soft over the phone, like a soothing blanket warming me up.
“Is that my sweet pea?” Dad shouts from the background.
A smile stretches across my face. My dad always spoils me. He would let my mom do the scolding.
“Doing great. I love it out here. Business is going great.”
“That’s great, honey. We have you on speaker.”
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, honey.”
“Ahh, Jerry, help me!” I hear my mom scream.
Then I hear her panting like she’s running from something.
“What’s going on, Mom?” I ask.
“The geese are after me!” she shouts breathlessly.
Geese? What the hell? “Are you at the park?” She has to be. We have no geese at our place in the city.
“Clair, stop screaming; they’re just hungry,” my father shouts as the door slams shut in the background.
“Oh, lord, sorry, honey. That was a close one.”
“What is going on out there?”
“Remember the farm we were flipping? We loved it so much that we bought it and sold our house. And it came with animals.”
My eyes expand. I’ve got the speaker on, and I look across at Mila, who is laughing so hard she’s choking. My father is a contractor who flips houses, and my mother is a real estate agent. They function as a tag team. They’ve spent their entire lives in the city. How on earth did they obtain a farm? With animals?
“Wow, Mom, that’s just crazy. Do you even know anything about animals?”
“Well, not really. As you heard, a goose was chasing me. Don’t worry, I’m hiring someone who does. You’re going to love the house when you visit. I’m sure in the summer it’s gorgeous. I called to let you girls know we won’t make it for Thanksgiving because your aunt twisted her ankle and needs my help. I’m sorry. I looked forward to seeing you all and my little Dante.”
“I understand your concern, Mom. I miss you guys. Mila’s Nana and Uncle are coming down.” I’m a little bummed. This will be my first year being without my family for the holidays.
“That’s great, honey. I’d better let you go. I’m going to help your father milk the cows.”
“What!”
She chuckles. “Just kidding. Give my love to Mila and Dante.”
I say my goodbyes and end the call, then I hop off my desk and look up at Mila.
A smile curls the edge of her mouth. “A farm, huh? Are we Old MacDonald now?” she singsongs.
I throw my head back in laughter. Mila ducks down and feeds the baby chicks some grain. All you hear is little chirps as the chicks eat from her hand. I lean down and pet the cuties.
“Wow, chica, I think you would make an excellent farmer. Maybe you should go help Mom and Dad.”
Mila raises an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t mind milking a cow. I’ve always wondered how it would feel squeezing the udders on a cow.”
