Page 30 of A Much Younger Man
Chapter Eight
“Home sweet home,”the bird echoed. I let him out of his cage and put him on my shoulder.
“This is Rico. Watch your fingers. He’ll bite or scratch the occasional newcomer for no apparent reason.” I offered Beck a tiny bowl of seeds. “If you want to hedge your bets, you can try to give him a seed. Hold it in your palm at first until he gets used to you.”
Beck picked up a few and held them out, palm up. “Oh, you’re a pretty boy, aren’t you?”
Rico eyed him before carefully taking a seed. Then he went in for another. I stayed still and watched as Beck charmed him enough to get him muttering conversational nonsense.
“That’s right,” Beck offered every so often. “You’re so right. I always say that.”
Rico said, “Home sweet home.”
Beck laughed. “He sounds like a robot that’s trying to sound like you.”
“Yeah. Parrots are much truer mimics, and they say a lot more phrases and words than Rico can. Cockatiels get a few words right, but there’s always that kind of mechanical hum to their speech. They’re quieter too.”
Rico had a few phrases he said often. He liked “Pretty boy,” “Hello, gorgeous,” and “Boop,” For whatever reason he most loved to mimic my ex Nick—especially during an argument. Nick had been gone for years, but Rico held onto his words and his tone of voice like a feathered limpet.
Privately, I suspected Rico was a drama queen.
“You ruineverything!”
I glanced at Beck sheepishly. “That’s one of his absolute favorite things to say.”
“Harsh.” Beck frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“That’s because he didn’t learn it from me.”
“Oh.” He gave Rico another seed. “Sick burn, Rico. Be nice.”
“On the other hand, not everyone has a comedy cockatiel.”
“Trust you to have one, Doctor Doolittle.” Beck glanced around the living room. “Should I leave Callie on her leash?”
“No, of course not.” I motioned toward a basket where I kept blankets and pillows. “Grab a blanket from the hamper and set it on the floor by the chair there. Have a seat. It won’t take long to get supper ready.”
He set his things in the corner and made a spot for Callie. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’s mostly done. Did you feed Callie at the office?” Beck had taken to feeding her at the same time he gave the kittens their bottles. “If not, I can get her something.”
“She ate.”
“I’ll set up a water bowl for her in the kitchen. Just relax while I finish things up.”
I slung a towel over my shoulder before transferring Rico to my nondominant side, then washed my hands. Rico liked to perch on my shoulder and mutter in my ear while I got supper ready. He was actually pretty good company when I didn’t want the human variety.
“Do you have any food allergies? Oh, and do you like cilantro?”
“No to allergies, and yes to cilantro. I’m not picky.”
“Good to know.”
I added two types of cheese to melt in the chili while I made a quick salad. Rico needed leafy greens every other day, and I sometimes slipped him a little fruit. I gave him a spinach leaf while I worked, and it kept him busy for a bit.
Callie sat on the blanket with her jaw resting on Beck’s knee. I knew the minute Beck spotted my guitar. He tensed like a hunting dog. I half expected him to point.
“You play guitar?”
