And now that he had been around for a while, Jake had picked up his crow. But Jake didn’t confine it to sunrise. He might crow at any time of day or night.
Sandi closed her eyes and shook her head. “I wish he wouldn’t call her names. If she can figure out what he’s saying, next thing you know, I’ll be going to a City Council meeting again.”
“I don’t get it. I don’t think he’s heard me call Stephanie “bubble-butt” more than two or three times.”
“I know, but you have to be cautious what you say around him. All he has to do is hear something one time and it becomes part of his lexicon.”
“Is he mimicking me? Or does he really know that Stephanie is overweight?” Fiona looked at her with a serious expression, her drink poised midair. “Do you think he knows what “overweight” is?”
Sandy chuckled and sipped her drink. “Your guess is good as mine. I’m constantly amazed at how fast he learns words and uses them in their correct context. We could almost have a conversation. Sometimes, if I absent-mindedly asked a question outloud, he answers.”
Fiona tilted her head. “I wonder if he’s really as smart as anyone else I know.”
“Maybe I’ll have to start closing the window,” Sandi mused, staring into her margarita. “I was just trying to air out his room a little and let him get some fresh air.” She sighed. “I’ve got to find him a good home. My house smells like a toilet.”
“Why don’t you keep him outside in that aviary thing you had built?”
“I can’t when I’m not home. I’m afraid someone will steal him and I’d never stop worrying about him.”
“If I didn’t work all time, I’d take him,” Fiona said. “Me and him would be good roommates. He could teach me a thing or two. I think he’s better edju—educated than I am.”
“I know what you mean. All the time I wonder if he’s smarter than I am. But don’t worry about it. I think my aunt down in Salt Lick is going to take him to give to her husband.”
“The one who’s a hair stylist? Like me?
“Right. Aunt Ed and her husband both are a little daffy, so Jake would fit right into their household.”
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Fiona slurred. “Two daffy people and a daffy bird.”
“Why are you home so early?” Sandi asked and sipped her drink.
“I scheduled my day light. I decided I work too hard. Don’t you think I work too hard? I needed some Me time, so here Me is, sitting on the front porch, smokin’ and drinkin’. Quality time. Yessiree. It's not what you do with your time that’s important, it’s the important things you do with your time.”
Sandi gave her the squint-eye. “What?”
Fiona’s brow scrunched into a frown. “Did I screw that up?”
Sandi laughed and shook her head and sipped more of the salty sour tequila mixture. “Be sure to give your car keys to me. You don’t need to be driving.”
“No worries, neighbor. But if you were a real friend you’d ask me for my cell phone. After a few drinks, I do a whole lot more damage with that damn thing than I do with a car. They should write tickets for calling when drinking. That would be a CWD or a CUI. Right?”
Sandi was about to agree when her friend said, “What bone do you have to pick with me?”
“Oooh, yeah,” Sandi said slowly, deliberately dragging out the moment. “I met a good-looking single man today and I find it hard to believe I’ve never heard you say a word about him.”
“Well, I do know them all. Slept with some of ’em, too. Who was it? Oh, God, don’t tell me. No, wait. Do tell me.”
Sandi leaned back against the porch support post. “Nick Conway is his name.”
Fiona sat straight up, coughing and sputtering and holding her glass level to keep from spilling it. Sandi waited several seconds for her to recapture her wind. “You okay? What is he, a criminal or something?”
“That was the last name I expected to hear you say. The absolute last. I’ve been trying to get a peek at that guy for six months. Where’d you see him?”
Sandi related the encounter at the Pampered Pooch and the cowboy who came in to see his puppy. “He was cold as ice,” she said in conclusion. “Never even looked at the little—”
“Did you check him out below the belt?” Fiona broke into a spasm of giggling.
Sandi gave her a look.
“His fly, I mean? Did you check it out?”
“You’re drunk. I never check out a man’s fly.”
“Tell me exactly what he looked like. Don’t leave out anything.”
Sandi tilted her head, recalling. “Well, he’s definitely your type.”
“You mean breathing.”
“No, I mean rugged. You know, really manly. Tall. A good foot taller than you.”
“Who does he remind you of? Living or dead.”
“Umm, Chris Hemsworth.”
“God almighty. A Chris Hemsworth look-alike walking among us? And I haven’t met him?”
“How come you haven’t met him is what I want to know and how do you know about him?”
“All I know is from Sylvia Armbruster. For the past four months, every time she comes into the shop, it’s Nick this and Nick that. She’s head over heels, which, by the way, is her favorite position. I’ve asked her to bring him by the shop so I can meet him, but she won’t do it. She’s cowardly like that.”
“You’d think she’d want to show him off. How did she meet him?”
“How does Sylvia get to meet any man? She stands at the city limits and stops every car that’s got a male alone in it. She wants to be the first to check ’im out.”
“And that’s all you know about him, that he sees
