Love Is in the Air (100 page)

Maybe if the setting were different, as in her parrot not harassing him, Wyatt might have found the brunette attractive. But with those pinched lips and haunted eyes and the harpy on her shoulder? No amount of eye shadow could get him interested.

“Loser,” the bird squawked.

“Please, please, please, can you tell me why she’s doing that?”

“Mooch,” the parrot broadcast. “Get out! Get out!”

All right now the parrot was getting a little too close to home. Wyatt didn’t come to this event to experience a bizarre case of déjà vu.

The woman looked so earnest though. “Why in the world would she say those things?”

“Um,” Wyatt stalled. She couldn’t be that oblivious could she? “Parrots. They mimic what they hear, right?

“Yes,” the blond said, but clearly she was just as confused as before. “And your point would be?”

“Cheater!” the parrot offered as counterpoint.

Wyatt wasn’t usually the “pull the bandage off” kind of guy. Well, obviously. He was more the “take a nice long bath and let the bandage soak off” kind of guy. But he only had three minutes and this chick didn’t seem like she was going to figure it out on her own.

“Let me take a wild stab in the dark,” Wyatt said as he leaned back in his chair. “And guess that you recently kicked your unfaithful and equally unemployed boyfriend out of the house.”

“How could you know that?”

“I’ve just heard those words before. A
lot
.”

Okay, more than a lot. Which was why he was living with his mom… And well, why he wasn’t living with his Mom anymore. Women. They always wanted something. Like this chick. She was giving him the funniest look.

Quickly Wyatt clarified, “I’ve heard those words from other parrots. Of course.
Parrots
, not people. It’s very common condition in parrots.”

“What triggers it?”

“Liar!”

The woman was so sincere it almost made Wyatt’s heart hurt. How could she really not know? And how could he tell her that her parrot was just, well,
parroting
her own words to her slacker boyfriend? That it really wasn’t the birds words, but her own, vocalized very loudly and frequently. And now those same words, telling the sad tale of this woman’s life, were being broadcast across the ballroom.

“I think… I think…” Wyatt struggled.

“Whose thong is this?” Polly demanded.

How in the heck was Wyatt going to soften this one? Then inspiration hit, again. “I think your parrot was very traumatized by your break-up.”

“Really?”

Okay, somebody was super traumatized. And did it really matter if it was the bird or the woman? Somebody had to do something before the bird’s squawk ruptured his ear drum.

“I think you… I mean
she
, Polly, the bird… really loved your boyfriend and was really hurt when he betrayed you… I mean
her
.”

This was not easy, but the woman’s eyes seemed to hold a bit of hope.

“What do we do about it?”

Darn. His plan didn’t extent that far. “Well, as you can imagine she is upset, but we have to get you, I mean
her
moving on.”

“Jerk!”

“How?” the brunette asked.

“Well,” Wyatt had to come up with something quick. “Maybe she needs a some new vocabulary.”

“Like what?”

“How about, ‘Men rock?’” Wyatt suggested. It seemed like a good enough place to start.

“Men suck!” the bird vigorously countered.

“Men rock, Polly.” corrected the young lady. “Men
rock
.”

The obviously confused parrot looked at Wyatt, looked back at her owner, ruffled her feathers and just screeched loudly.

Wyatt prompted gently, “Now try, ‘We can open our hearts again.’”

“Come on, Polly,” the woman urged. “‘We can open our hearts again.’”

“Open heart,” the bird muttered then ground its beak.

Progress. Actual progress. Wyatt added, “Now try, ‘Oh, yes, that feels good.’”

The woman cocked her head. “I don’t understand—”

“Hey, I’m just going off the bird, man,” Wyatt said as the buzzer went off. “I’m just going her vibe. Work with me here.”

As he rose, the woman crooned to Polly, “Oh, yes, that feels good.”

“Feels good.” Squawk. Then very pointedly the parrot looked at Wyatt. “Loser.”

“Batting five hundred,” Wyatt said as he moved on. “I’ll take it.”

* * *

As the last buzzer went off and the last communicator moved off, Jazmine sagged in her chair. Over two dozen “pet psychics” and Andrea was, if possible, even more dejected than when they came in. Although Jazmine didn’t blame her. That chick with the spikes in her hair nearly stabbed Andrea while she was trying to check the little girl’s heart chakra.

Jazmine’s gamble hadn’t paid off. At least there was little risk that that her employer would find out that Jazmine had gone against her wishes. At this point she couldn’t accuse Jazmine of anything beyond missing two hours of playground time.

“Come on, Andrea,” Jazmine encouraged. “We’ve got to get you lunch.”

The little girl scooted of the chair but didn’t respond.

“How about getting those chicken nuggets you like?” Jazmine asked but again, no spark ignited in Andrea’s eyes. And that little girl
loved
her chicken nuggets.

“Okay, if that’s not the ticket then how about if you eat all your veggies we’ll go get some Cold Stone ice cream?”

Not even a flicker of a smile.

If watching your ice cream get chopped up and M&Ms swirled in didn’t raise Andrea’s spirits nothing would.

She took Andrea’s hand and guided her toward the exit. Jazmine was supposed to turn in her “communicator” scorecards, but why bother? None of them were any help. Well, except for that brief moment with Wyatt. It was the most alive she’d seen Andrea since Blackie’s passing.

Jazmine scanned the crowd searching for those unbuttoned cuffs. Across the room she spotted Wyatt. He looked even more disheveled than he had previously, but there was something else different about him. Taller? Something.

Their gaze met. Jazmine begged, literally begged with her eyes for him to come over, but he only glanced down to Andrea then turned away.

Jazmine sighed one last time then guided her charge toward the exit.

A voice sounded from behind, rising above the clamor of the emptying room.

“Blackie?”

Jazmine and Andrea spun around to find Wyatt pretending to search the room. “Does someone know a Blackie?”

Andrea’s hand shot up as he waved it furiously.

“Quite the beast, I understand,” Wyatt said as he walked over to them.

Jazmine mouthed “thank you” over Andrea’s head. Wyatt gave a wink in return. She felt herself grinning with no desire to stop.

“Why, yes,” Jazmine said as she knelt beside the little girl. “We knew a Blackie, didn’t we, Andrea?

Andrea nodded so vigorously that Jazmine worried she might injure herself. But that was so much better than her rag doll impression from before that Jazmine didn’t even try to intervene.

* * *

You know what? Wyatt could get used to this whole knight in shining armor. The kid was smiling and even the red head looked happy. His job here was nearly done then he could go buy a hoagie in celebration.

“Well, Blackie just wanted me to tell you he’s safe and sound in Heaven.”

There that should do it.

But the kid’s lips feel from their lofty heights and the pain was back in her eyes. Wyatt didn’t know little girls very well, but even he knew that tear’s weren’t far off.

“Remember,” Jazmine prompted. “Her mom doesn’t believe in Heaven.” The red head gave Andrea a reassuring squeeze. Her mom says it’s a made-up place for made-up stories.”

Darn it. Wyatt had forgotten. And as the joy in Andrea seeped out, Wyatt scrambled to fix it.

“Hello! I didn’t say I was fluent in Labrador!” He declared. “Now a Lhasa Apso I’d have nailed the first time.” Jazmine gave him that “where are you going with this” look. Honestly Wyatt didn’t know, but at least they were going. “There are very subtle differences in inflection between the breeds.”

Wyatt let loose with a series of three barks and a whine that he hung onto for three seconds longer than he probably should have but it made Andrea’s smile grow, if just a little. He was onto something.

“See? That’s Labrador for Heaven.” He proceeded to give a loud bark followed by three short whines. “And
that’s
for never-ending field.”

Wyatt dropped his features into a completely dead panned expression as he looked Andrea. “You can
totally
see how I could get them confused.”

Andrea’s smile grew. “Field?” she asked with a little squeak in her voice, like she wasn’t used to using it much.

“Heck, yeah,” Wyatt exclaimed happy to have the kid talking again. “Acres and acres, as far as the eye can see of fields. Just like a huge dog park.”

* * *

Andrea’s smile flipped itself into a frown. Jazmine stepped to clear up the confusion. “Yeah, um, Blackie didn’t play with others so well.”

Wyatt much more smoothly covered his tracks this time.

“Hello?
Dog
park.” Not ‘dogs’ park,” Wyatt explained as if it were Jazmine and Andrea who were the confused ones. “In this park it is just Blackie running and playing all by himself.”

“Wouldn’t he be lonely?” Andrea asked with a quiver in her voice.

Jazmine started to bend down to comfort her, but Wyatt waved her back and knelt beside the little girl. He motioned Andrea to draw nearer. Wyatt gazed into her eyes intently and for the first time lost the I’m-an-adult-talking-to-a-kid voice.

“You know how I told you about that green, green field with grass up to Blackie’s ankles, just high enough to have fun rooting around, but low enough so he can run at full speed?”

Andrea nodded solemnly.

“Well, across the entire horizon there’s one tree and one tree only.”

“Is it big?” Andrea asked wonder in her voice.

“It’s
huge
,” Wyatt answered his arms stretching out wide. “And the shade? Ah, the shade’s just warm enough for short sleeves but cool enough you don’t have to wear icky shorts.”

Andrea’s grinned openly. God it was so good to see her happy again. Even for just a moment.

Wyatt tugged on the edge of Andrea’s shirt. “And that’s where your Dad waits.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah. Every day he just hangs out under there,” Wyatt explained, “Sipping on some iced tea, waiting for Blackie to get done playing.”

Jazmine brought her hand up to the golden locket that hung around her neck. Inside a picture of her own father lost so very long ago.

“Then what happens?” Andrea asked with wonder in her eyes as well.

“A little tug-of-war here. A little head petting there, and then they take a nap.” Wyatt explained. If Jazmine wasn’t mistaken his voice cracked a little at the end there. But whatever emotion had passed over him, he seemed to pull out of it. His voice chipper as he continued. “Every day. Just like clockwork.”

“Then I want to go there!” Andrea anguished.

* * *

Wait. This was not how this was supposed to go. Wyatt frantically tried to figure out how in the heck to get out of this one.

“I want to go play with Blackie and Dad!” Andrea demanded.

Jazmine knelt down beside them, stroked Andrea’s hair. “Baby, you can’t.”

“If I
die
I can.”

Dang it. When did kids get so darn smart?

“No, no, no, no…” Jazmine said, glancing over to Wyatt. She tilted her head toward Andrea. Like she expected him to do something. Had she not meet him?

But with Andrea’s tears threatening to spill over, what else could Wyatt do but wade into the deep end without a life jacket?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Wyatt announced hoping that his brain was going to catch up with his mouth. “What are you… You think you can just going to the great green field all willy nilly?” He gave as close to a stern look as he could. “What? Huh?” he asked Andera.

The little girl looked more confused than anything but that was way better than her crying. Wyatt mock-snorted. “That’s just crazy talk. Like you can just plop under the tree!”

The beginnings of an idea started forming. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Six,” she said quietly, leaning into Jazmine for support.

“Well then, okay.” Wyatt said more light-heartedly. “That’s pretty young, so it makes a little more sense this ‘I’m just going to go to run in the field thing.’” He turned to Jazmine and chided, “Didn’t you teach her anything yet?”

“Sorry,” Jazmine said with a playful grin at the edge of her lips. “Why don’t you explain it to her?”

Great. And here he thought he’d tossed the ball in the red head’s court. Apparently Jazmine played conversational tennis very well.

“Wow. Just wow!” he said to Andrea. “‘Just go sit under the tree…’” Wyatt repeated as if he simply couldn’t believe the concept. “Did I not explain the hugeness of this field and the coolness of this tree?”

“Yeah…” Andrea timidly answered.

“All right then,” Wyatt said, the plan solidifying. “You see, ordinary people can’t handle that much awesomeness at once. You should have figured out that you can’t go to the great green field until you’re
ready
for it.”

“How do you know when you’re ready?”

Hmmm. How did you know? But this wasn’t a philosophical debate. This was him trying to get Andrea off the whole “I want to go to the field” idea.

“Did Blackie shake hands?” he asked Andrea.

“Yeah, really good.”

“Both feet?” Off Andrea’s nod Wyatt continued. “And how many years did it take him to really perfect that? Not just slapping you with his paw,” Wyatt said as he shook his own hand. “But really, really high-fiving you?”

He put his hand up and Andrea hit it.

“From before I was born.”

Wyatt grinned. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Blackie finally knew he was ready to show your dad something amazing.” He held the little girl’s gaze, “The perfect shake.”

“Yes, yes,” Jazmine added seeming to pick up on where he was headed. “Your dad’s going to want to hear about your first day in second grade. And your science fair project in fifth grade.”