Page 42 of ILY
I grew up in the city and inherited this land from an aunt I didn’t really know.
Salem had seen my struggles and kidnapped my aunt’s chickens in the middle of the night a few weeks after I moved in. I couldn’t blame him, and he was kind about it. We briefly talked about turning all this land into a commune for burned-out interpreters because there were probably more of us.
He’d promised that he’d bring me chicks to replace the ones he’d stolen as soon as I was, you know, a little less out of my mind with groundhog hunting. And as soon as I actually learned how to take care of chickens.
But I am clearly not there yet.
‘Salem dropped some of them off for me yesterday,’ Otto went on, ‘and asked me to bring these to you if you have your coop ready.’
I do not, in fact, have a coop ready. I’d completely forgotten that was a thing. I haven’t seen him in weeks—maybe longer. I’ve been preoccupied with Michael and now with Thorne. Fuck, what even is my life?
‘I’m not prepared for chickens. No coop, and I still don’t know how to take care of them.’ His hand follows on top of mine.
Mellie shakes his head and taps Otto’s hand to take it before signing, ‘We have chicks in the back of the truck if you want to look at them anyway. Salem just started breeding SILKIE chickens, and he sent more Buttonquail chicks.’
I have no idea what either of those birds is, but I shrug. ‘OK.’
Otto lets me go and follows Mellie back to the truck, stopping when he gets to the passenger door. He turns and waves his hand in my direction. ‘I’m going to sit.’
I don’t argue with him. He’s not a fan of people. It’s not a Deafblind thing either. He’s just the kind of man who prefers the company of his bees.
Cannot relate, but I’m not about to judge him for it. I’m in the middle of a groundhog war. If there’s a lunatic here, it’s not him.
Mellie lets him go and motions me to follow him to the back of the truck. He’s got the cap on, and he opens the little window, then pulls down the tailgate and drags a large plastic box forward.
There’s an immediate cacophony of tiny but very loud chirps.
Mellie rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, even I can hear them a little.’
He opens the lid on the box, and inside are what look like hundreds of fluffy little chicks. Well, okay, not hundreds. There are probably a dozen or so. I’m delirious from lack of sleep, too much booze on an empty stomach at night, and the way Thorne has flipped my life upside down, so they’re probably not as cute as I think they are either.
Then Mellie pulls over another box, and it’s the same thing, only these things are barely bigger than a damn gummy bear. ‘These are the quail.’
‘Wow.’
He snorts. ‘Yeah. Otto’s too scared to keep these. He’s afraid he’ll crush them under his feet, and I’m a thousand percent sure his cat will eat them.’
I lay my hand on the box and trail my fingertips over their fuzzy little heads. They peep very loudly—louder than the chickens. ‘Can I take a picture?’
He nods, and I dig in my pocket for my phone. Thorne is going to love these. I think. He seems like the weird, reclusive, grumpy asshole who would go soft for tiny baby chicks.
I snap several photos, making Mellie hold one in the palm of his hand next to his thumb for perspective. God, they really are cute. I put my phone back and then take the chick and curl my fingers around it, making it a little burrow.
Instead of trying to escape, it starts to doze.
Mellie looks all soft. ‘Cute.’
‘I really don’t think I can take them,’ I tell him after I set the chick back in the box with the others. ‘Michael will probably think they’re popcorn and have them as a midnight snack.’ I have no idea if groundhogs eat chicks, but I know I don’t want to take that risk.
Mellie doesn’t look bothered. ‘Next year, maybe? Text me before you’re ready, and we can set up a coop.’
Sounds like a fair compromise.
I step back as he pushes the chicks back into the truck bed and slams the gate back up. The silence feels a little awkward, and I know I probably look a little wild, like the overgrowth on the farm is taking me over too.
Mellie waves at me to get my attention. ‘Do you need help with anything?’
Yep. My chaos is obvious. He can totally sense it. I shake my head, even though I probably do. ‘Unless you know how to rid yourself of a vindictive groundhog.’
