Page 16 of The Burbs and the Bees
“Two. Tyler and Beck. I’m sure they’ll be around later to annoy you.” She grins. “You have siblings?” I ask.
“No, it’s just me. I always wanted siblings, though. But it wasn’t in the cards.”
“You can have mine, they’re a huge pain in my ass.” She laughs at that, and I step out from behind the counter. I shove my hands into my pockets. “You want me to show you around Jack’s place before I go?” I’ll always think of it as Jack’s place. I can’t think of it as Alyson’s place if she’s not staying.
She takes one last look around the barn. “Sure, why not?”
I lift my hand and gesture for her to follow. “Come on.”
I shut the double doors on the barn, and we make our way to the play area.
“You already met my rooster, Cluck. I’ll have a talk with him about bothering you.”
“You’ll have a talk with him?” A grin plays with the corners of her mouth. “What are you, the rooster whisperer?”
I roll my eyes and feign insult. “I’ll have you know my talents aren’t just limited to roosters.”
“I can believe that,” she says. “You can probably charm the eggs from a chicken.”
I wink at her. “Too bad you’re not sticking around, city girl; you’d be amazed at what I can do.” I gesture with a nod. “Now speaking of chickens, you’ve seen them and the ducks, right?”
“And a little pig.”
“Ah, yes. Well, there are a couple more pigs around here. Each year, Jack purchased three.”
“Why three?”
“I don’t know. Maybe so he could call them Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner.”
“Wait, are you saying…?” I give her a second to digest and understand. Her big eyes widen. Ah, there it is. She gets it and, from the looks of things, is repulsed by it. “Do you mean at the end of the season…?” She runs her index finger over her neck in a slicing motion.
Oh Christ, this woman has so much to learn. “Would you rather I tell you they’re shipped off to a farm for a good long life where they can run freely in the pasture?”
She cringes. “Yes, please.”
“No can do. Farmers are honest folk. You’ll come to learn that.”
She gives an exaggerated sigh and adjusts her ball cap. “Well, I guess I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
“I’m sure it won’t come to that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, going on the defense again.
“Nothing.” She continues to glare at me. “It’s just a long way off,” I say. “It will be easy if you don’t play with them or give them names.”
“Duly noted.”
“You have two llamas. They’re wandering in the orchard somewhere. One is Barack O’Llama and one is Freddy.”
She chuckles. “Barack O’Llama, I get. Not so much Freddy.”
“‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’ ‘Mama, just killed a man.’”
Her eyes narrow. “I still don’t get it.”
“Llama, just killed a man. Sing it in your head.”
“Oh. My. God.” She groans, her hand touching my arm. “That is the worst.”
