Chapter Sixteen

Amber’s stomach made a loud grumble as she pulled into Andy’s driveway. It had taken her twenty minutes to walk home, which wasn’t long, but added to the time she’d spent at the store trying to figure out where Gnorman had been moved to, and the ten-minute drive to Andy’s house, it was an hour past her supper time. She’d skipped lunch, and she never ate breakfast; however, with all she’d had to eat yesterday at the restaurant with Stan, it wasn’t like she was going to starve to death. She’d eaten enough calories in that one meal to sustain her for a week, and she didn’t feel one iota of guilt.

Just as she put the car into Park, her cell phone buzzed with a text message from Stan. Short and sweet and to the point, as always.

where r u

Amber sighed and hit Reply.

Andy’s. Gnorman is here.

She didn’t bother putting her phone away. For a man with big fingers, he texted fast.

why didn’t u call me

She sighed again, and in the middle of her sigh her breath caught as her stomach grumbled and a wave of pain shot through her. She wished she had an apple in her purse, but like her fridge, her purse was bare except for nonedible junk. She gritted her teeth as it passed, using the time to think of how to word her reply to Stan without hurting his feelings.

cuz I can’t keep being a pest. c u tomrw

Instead of texting for half an hour from Andy’s driveway, she turned the phone off and tucked it back into her purse. She would phone Stan when she got home, but this wasn’t the time, nor the place. What she found would not be a surprise. She already knew what it would be, but some evil little bug on her shoulder told her she had to see for herself.

Amber stepped out of the car and onto Andy’s driveway, and looked up at his house. The sun, ready to set, cast a golden aura around his home.

His perfectly manicured lawn, neatly trimmed around the edges, bordered his immaculately swept driveway. Instead of clumps of bushes like she’d seen at other garden club members’ homes, Andy’s flowers were set in neat rows with almost military precision. Like his lawn, all were in perfect condition with no hints of brown on any of the leaves or flowers.

Likewise, his home showed the same care. The shutters appeared freshly painted and new, a stately contrast to the old brick that made up the building. While it wasn’t a huge house, it was certainly large for one person.

Suddenly she wished she hadn’t tried to be noble and had asked Stan to join her. It hadn’t been difficult to ask any of the ladies to escort her to their backyards to see Gnorman’s new temporary home, but somehow having to ask Andy seemed . . . intimidating.

Gathering her courage, she knocked on the door. As it opened, instead of the gentle creak of an old hinge, an ear-shattering yowl pierced the silence.

Before her stood Andy, tall and still. On the floor beside him, Andy’s brightly-colored parrot stretched out his wings and screeched like a stuck pig.

For a man old enough to be her father, Andy was quite a dashing and handsome fellow, even if a bit of a curmudgeon. She absolutely adored the little crow’s feet that appeared around his eyes in the rare times that he smiled. She didn’t adore the noisy parrot.

He tapped his watch. “What took you so long?”

When Amber opened her mouth to respond that she’d made it in good time considering she’d walked home instead of driven, the squawking parrot picked up his volume. Amber resisted the urge to cover her ears with her hands. “What’s with him? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did. You banged on my door, and I opened it.”

“But that’s so annoying.”

“I like it. Murray’s better than a watchdog or one of them high-tech alarm systems.”

“Are you saying he’s a watch parrot?”

A harrumph escaped Andy’s lips. “I suppose you could say that. How’d ya like to come in?” As Andy stepped away to give her room to enter, the parrot, still screeching, hopped backward.

Amber stepped in and shuffled away from the door quickly. “As long as you make sure he won’t bite me in the ankle.”

“He won’t bite unless you try to take something away from him, and he’ll stop hollering as soon as I close the door.”

Amber quickly slipped past both of them to give Andy room to close the door. The second it clicked closed, the bird did exactly as he’d promised.

Her ears rang with the silence.

“See?”

She stared down at the parrot, who now looked almost friendly.

Almost.

“Do you think Murray might have noticed when Gnorman was placed in your backyard?”

“Probably, but it’s not like he would fly outside and attack an intruder.” He raised both of his bushy eyebrows as he looked down at Amber. “Most people ignore him. After all, he’s not the least bit dangerous. He spends most of his days napping.” Andy’s face relaxed, and he bent down to touch the bird’s head with one finger. “Your gnome arrived when I was out on duty. Come this way, and I’ll show you where he is.”

Amber tried not to be nosey, but she couldn’t help making mental notes of Andy’s house as he led her through to the back patio door. She tried not to cringe as the parrot half hopped and half flew behind them.

Everything in Andy’s home was in balance as if he’d had a feng shui expert come in; although from her impression of him at the garden club meetings, he was probably a natural at it. All of his furniture was large and stately, in dark, masculine tones, and with no extras. There was nothing ornamental, only furniture that had a practical use, including a few sparse photographs depicting what appeared to be important events in his life.

The only other male-dominated house she’d ever been in was Stan’s, and she couldn’t exactly call that totally male-dominated because she’d helped him pick the furniture and accent colors. He hadn’t let her do anything too girly, but it was far from blends of blacks, browns, and navy blue. Even though Stan’s house was never as clean as she would have liked, it was comfortable and well presented. While Andy’s home was comfortable, everything about it yelled that a man did the decorating, and that a man lived there alone.

“There he is,” Andy said as he reached for the door handle.

This time Amber prepared for the shrieking. She covered her ears with her hands and followed him outside. The parrot also went outside, where he flew up to a perch on the back porch, then flapped his wings and screeched at the open door. At the exact moment the door closed, the parrot silenced and folded his wings.

She looked up at the quirky bird. She could have sworn the bird winked at her. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to fly away? Or are his wings clipped?”

Andy reached forward to tickle the bird’s bright yellow belly, now at shoulder height, or at least shoulder height for her, even though it wasn’t for Andy. She would never do that in fear of having her fingers nipped.

“Nope. None of the above. He’s more than happy here, guarding the backyard. Maybe the colored flowers remind Murray of home.”

She narrowed her eyes and glared at the bird. She didn’t have any experiences with parrots or birds of any kind, and didn’t figure this was the time to start. The only thing she knew was that birds liked to sit on anything that could serve as a perch.

She stared at Gnorman’s raised hand—the hand that should have had the trophy strapped to it.

She didn’t want bird poop on her gnome. “You’re sure he won’t leave his perch on the porch?”

“Absolutely not. When we go back to the house, he’ll follow me in because he knows he’s supposed to. Just like when I tell him to go into his cage, he will. Parrots are very smart.”

She’d also heard pigs were smart, but she wouldn’t put one to the test, or have one in her home.

But she wasn’t here to learn about Andy’s parrot. However, while she was here, she couldn’t help but check out Andy’s yard. Like the front, his backyard was set up nearly to the point of meticulous. He’d arranged all his plants and bushes by height, so the smallest stood at the edges, and everything grew taller toward the fence or the house. It was so organized that it was nearly perfect except for a spade and a fork leaning against the small garden shed that looked like he’d forgotten to put them away.

Gnorman had been placed on the grass, fortunately not in the flower bed, next to something with purple blooms that clashed horribly with the red Santa suit.

“I need to check and see if Gnorman’s got a note somewhere. Every time he’s moved, he gets a new note with a—”

Without warning, Murray screeched, again flapping his wings. This time, without Andy beside him, he extended his wings fully, which had to be a wingspan of nearly five feet. She’d never realized how big the bird was. Being so big and nasty, just as Andy said, Murray really could be considered a watch parrot. She certainly wouldn’t want to tangle with him.

Amber ducked and covered her head with both hands, just in case he decided to launch and take whatever was annoying him out on her.

Just as suddenly as he started, the parrot silenced and folded his wings, once again sitting on his perch like nothing had happened.

“Murray hates the gate opening even worse than the door.”

A different male voice echoed with the quick taps of footsteps. “What’s going on? When did Gnorman get here?”

Amber lowered her arms to her sides, stood, and spun around. “Stan? What are you doing here?”

He stiffened at the mention of his name. “I came to see Gnorman and check out the new note.” He paused, and his voice lowered. “And to find out why you didn’t want me to come.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want you to come, I just . . .” She let her voice trail off. She truly hadn’t wanted him to come. But not for the reasons he thought. Not that she could know exactly what he was thinking, but judging from his expression, it wasn’t good.

This was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of Andy.

Stan’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

Amber sucked in a deep breath and held it. Stan was angry. Really angry.

This was definitely not a conversation they were going to have in Andy’s backyard, with Andy and his parrot watching and listening. She could trust Andy, but she didn’t know much about parrots, except that they repeated words. She didn’t want the parrot repeating anything discussed between her and Stan.

“How about if we get the new note, and talk about this later? I think—”

Her words caught in her throat as a wave of nausea washed over her. Past the point of pain from being overly hungry, she now felt like she might vomit.

“Amber? What’s wrong?”

She pressed her hand into her stomach and forced herself to breathe deeply, hoping the feeling would pass. For a second her vision blurred, and the world started to spin. Even if she managed not to vomit this time, she would any minute, even though there was nothing to expel, if she didn’t get something into her stomach right away. As she looked up at Stan, her vision started to narrow, like looking into a tunnel. The center went bright, her knees went weak, and the world began to fade to black.

Without knowing how she got there, she found herself seated on the ground with her knees up, her arms around her shins, and her head lowered between her knees.

A hand pressed firmly against her back, keeping her steady. “Breathe deeply. Slowly. Like that. Easy. In. Out.”

Slowly, everything settled back into the right colors, and the world came back into focus. A cross between a buzzing and a ring pierced her ears.

Stan knelt to her right with one arm reaching behind her and his palm splayed on her back. Andy hunkered down to her left.

“Are you going to be okay?” Andy asked, while Stan continued to steady her. The ringing settled to a dull roar, then faded.

“I think so,” she mumbled, unable to raise her head. “But I feel all shaky. I see stars.”

Andy’s fingers touched her throat. She knew he was feeling her pulse but couldn’t move her arms to push him away. “Do you feel chest pains or numbness in your arms or legs?” he asked.

“No. I think I just need to eat something.”

Andy stood. “I’ll get her some juice. I’ll be right back.”

From down on the ground she saw his boots turn away, then more of him came into her field of vision as he jogged into the house. The parrot squawked as the door opened, so she knew she wasn’t dead or hallucinating.

“What’s wrong? Say something,” Stan’s voice came out a little shaky and scared. She hated to have done that to him.

“I’ll be okay. I haven’t eaten all day, and I think it just caught up with me.”

“What do you mean? Have you been sick?”

“No.” She shook her head, but as she did she knew she made a mistake. Her stomach rolled again, along with her head. She gulped and held herself stock-still until it started to pass. “I just got busy and didn’t have time to eat. Then I thought I would come here before supper. That’s all.”

The momentary squawk sounded again, and she soon saw the boots beside her head. Andy hunkered down and handed her a glass of red juice. She used two hands to steady it while she drank. Andy kept one hand hovering close by, probably in case he had to grab the glass fast, and Stan’s hand remained against her back.

She tried to keep her hand from shaking as she gave the glass back to Andy. “That was just what I needed. I’m going to be okay. Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

Andy remained hunkered down. “You should stay down like that for ten to fifteen minutes, just to be safe. I’m also going to make sure you’re okay before you leave, and you shouldn’t be driving.”

She may not have been back to her 100 percent fine self, but there was no way she was sitting like an invalid lump in Andy’s yard for that long. Besides, her butt was getting cold, and she felt sure she now had a damp spot on the seat of her pants from sitting so long on the cooling evening grass. She put her hands down on the grass and pushed herself up. Before she got all the way to a standing position, Stan’s hands wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her the rest of the way.

“She’s not going home, and she’s definitely not driving. I’ll take her and get some good food into her. But first I’ll move her car onto the street so you can get yours out of the garage in the morning, if it’s okay that we leave it here on the street.

“That’s fine with me. If you’re going to be on your way, you’ll probably want this.” Andy handed the envelope to Stan, like she didn’t exist. “Phone me when you get home, just so I know everything’s okay.”

Stan nodded. “We’ll do that. Thanks.”

Stan released her waist, but only for a millisecond. One hand went around her back at her shoulder blades, and he bent over, reaching for the back of her knees.

Even though she still felt shaky, she shuffled to the side. “No. Please don’t pick me up. I feel embarrassed enough as it is. I’m going to walk, and then I’m going to get in my car and drive home.”

“If you walk, you’re walking to my pickup, and you’re going to get inside and stay there while I move your car, and then I’m going to take you home. If you have any thoughts about moving your car yourself, or driving it, I’m going to pick you up, whether you like it or not, caveman-style, and plunk you in my truck and drive away, and let Andy move your car. Your choice.”

That didn’t sound like much of a choice at all. Amber opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of his tyrannical behavior, but no words came out. His eyes narrowed, his cheeks tightened, and his brows knotted. She’d seen pictures of friendlier grizzly bears. She had no doubt he meant what he said and that he would carry out what he promised, or threatened. For now, she’d let him have his way. She still felt weak and shaky. But as soon as he left and she felt better, she would walk back to Andy’s house, get her car and drive it home, and life would go on as normal.

Yet, even with the Neanderthal attitude, she couldn’t be mad at him. He was obviously worried, no less than she’d been the time he’d got knocked over when a cyclist ran into him when they’d been walking through the park at college. In the end, just like this, it had been nothing, but at the time she’d been terrified, watching him hit the ground and bounce, then remain unmoving for those very long seconds, getting his breath back and waiting for his world to stop spinning as he lay face down in the dirt.

Truly, she felt better after drinking the juice. When she got home she would make herself some toast, and she’d be good.

Because she’d promised, once Stan made sure she was seated in his pickup with the seat belt fastened to his satisfaction, Amber watched him move her car out of Andy’s driveway and park it on the street. He pocketed her keys, got in, and drove away.

“Stan? Where are you going? You missed the turn to go to my house.”

“I’m not going to your house. You’re going to my house. Don’t bother complaining, because this is nonnegotiable. So sit back and enjoy the ride.”