I turned to Hoax. “What if he decides that kids aren’t for him?”
Hoax smiled. “At one point in time, I thought kids weren’t for me either.”
He looked down at the little boy in my mother’s arms, eyes filled with tenderness.
I walked over to where my purse sat on an empty chair.
“I’ll be back through about three in the morning if you want anything. Otherwise, don’t text me until at least ten.” I pointed at my sister.
Pru grinned. “Yes, ma’am. We all know how important your sleep is.”
I scrunched up my nose at her.
“Sorry not sorry,” I said as I walked over to my dad and lifted up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Love you.”
He winked at me. “Love you, too.”
I did the same for Mom, Pru, and then Hoax. Though he didn’t get an ‘I love you’ from me.
“You don’t love me?” he teased.
I shook my head. “That’s why a polygamous relationship with you and my sister would never work. I will never love you. My heart already belongs to someone else.”
And had for ten years now.Chapter 6If bedbugs are found on beds, who the hell came up with the name ‘cockroach?’
-Things that go through Bayou’s mind
Bayou
It came out of nowhere.
One second Phoebe and I were talking outside in the parking lot, and the next I was going to dinner with her.
I had a hundred questions for her, and all of them stemmed from the fact that she was a damn falconer. Jesus Christ, it was like a goddamn sickness in my soul. I just had to know more.
“Do you have any other hawks besides Phantom? Any other breeds of birds?” I asked, leaning back in my seat.
“Just the one at the moment,” she answered, leaning back herself. “The other two that I had I returned to the wild.”
“You had two others?” I asked.
“Yes,” she agreed. “A part of the apprentice program is you have to capture birds of different ages. A young bird, a juvenile one, and an adult one. The younger ones are more malleable and willing to be trained. The adult hawk is more wild and unwilling to adapt. Phantom was a baby when I got her. She was a piece of cake compared to the other two. I still see them every once in a while, too.”
I couldn’t stop myself from asking the next question.
It was a compulsion that just wouldn’t be satisfied unless I asked.
“Can I see him?”
“Her,” she said instantly. “And yes.” She paused. “But I’d like to finish my dinner first, if that’s okay?”
I nodded once, impatience singing a tune in my soul.
“Are you not going to eat yours?”
I looked down at my barely touched plate of food and winced. “Yeah.”
I practically force-fed myself. The normally delicious hamburger, French fries, and side salad would’ve been music to my ears. But now the only music I could hear was the anticipation at seeing a hawk so up-close and personal.
I’d always been fascinated by birds.
That was why, glancing at Phoebe’s wrist, I’d been so attracted to Fancy for the first time. The hummingbird on her wrist had drawn me in like a moth to a flame.
At the age of six, I’d nearly been run over by a car because I’d seen a Blue Jay be hit by a car. In my attempt to save it—its wing had been broken as it’d been clipped by the car—I had escaped from my mother and had made a mad dash toward the hurt bird.
My grandfather, Dixie, who’d been with us had scooped me up just as a car had been aimed straight at my tiny body that’d been crouched on the ground. The bird had died, being smooshed in the commotion, and I’d been reprimanded by my family members to always be aware of my surroundings.
I took a bite of the burger and started to think about something other than birds. It was a trick I’d learned from my therapist when I was younger. At first, I’d start by solving math equations in my head, and eventually a number would spark a different thought path that would lead me to thinking about something else. And, other times, I’d solve hundreds of equations and still be fixated on my original train of thought with no end in sight.
This time, though, I was able to divert my attention.
And it was all due to the woman sitting across the table from me, laughter in her eyes.
“What?” I asked, reaching for a French fry.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I just think it’s cute that a grown man such as yourself could dissolve into a curious little boy that wants every single scrap of information he can find about a topic that he’s passionate about. Had I known this was what it would take to get you to talk to me, I would’ve brought up the hawk to you long before.” She paused. “Honestly, I’m quite surprised that you don’t already have your falconer’s permit.”