Page 59 of Mountain Grump
Quackers lets out a loud quack and splashes her wings against the water.
My grin widens.
I wonder if I should take one of the chairs from the back deck and put it out front.
It’s not like it’s ever more than just me out there, and if I set the chair far enough from the pool, maybe Quackers will still come play while I’m out there.
I glance across the living room at the back deck.
If I try to do it now, I’ll definitely scare Quackers off.
I eye the two boxes that I have left to unpack, sitting beside me below the windows.
The yellow strap things are still on top of one of them, and as tempted as I am to sit on the other box, I’m confident I’ll crush it.
So, I’ll stand here.
Shifting my weight, I cross my arms and lean closer to the glass.
Quackers steps up onto one of the big rocks I put in the pool, then hops up onto the ledge.
She lets out another squawk, then hops to the ground.
I start to frown, assuming she’s about to leave, but then she waddles over to her food dish.
My frown morphs back into a smile as she chomps away.
I need a picture of this.
Spinning away from the window, I rush over to where I left my phone on the coffee table and hurry back. Just in time to see Quackers pop her head up, ruffle her feathers, then take off flying.
“Well, poop.” My arms hang at my sides.
Of course she’d take off right when I got my camera.
I look back down at the food dish.
She’ll be back.
I start to turn back toward the living room when another noise catches my attention.
An engine.
Following Quackers’s lead, I let my flight mode activate and I hustle out of view, putting my back against the front door.
The sound of a vehicle gets louder.
I reach back and make sure the dead bolt is locked.
Maybe it’s a delivery. Just the UPS guy.
I bite my lip.
Except I haven’t ordered anything.
I look at the setting sun through the back windows.
It’s a little late for the post office. And they put all my regular mail in the mailbox.
