“Oh, shoo! Shoo! Wait, not you! Come back! Oh, hell…”
From the adjoining backyard, Randi’s exasperation was drowned out by the sound of a crying baby.
Clara raised her eyebrows dramatically at Thomas. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Should we go see if Miss Randi needs help?” He nodded obligingly, and she moved to unstrap Maddie from her high chair. A fresh chorus of angry clucks was accompanied by more frantic rustling, and Adele’s wails grew even louder.
“Maybe baby Rrradele was trying to eat the eggs, and the mommy chickens got mad,” Thomas guessed. Clara would have found this explanation more entertaining had she not been horrified he’d picked up on Benny’s behind-closed-doors name for the baby.
“Ah-dele,” she corrected him, leading him by the hand through the back door as Maddie wrapped her pajama-clad drumstick legs around her other hip. “And I doubt it.”
She extended a foot to stop the dog from following them—“Sorry, Pups, not now”—and shivered as she slid the door shut, Pup-Pup’s dejected face peering up at her through the glass. The morning was on the cold side of crisp, the smell of burning leaves was in the air, and there was no mistaking that fall was decidedly here, with winter not far behind. She tightened her arms around Maddie, feeling guilty that she hadn’t stopped to grab their coats.
“I only have two hands!” Randi was yelling, futilely, into the commotion of clucking and wailing. Clara ushered Thomas along beside her as they rushed toward the coop, which was obstructed by yellowing honeysuckle.
“Randi? One get loose again?”
“Oh, thank Buddha.” Her frazzled neighbor’s head appeared around the bush. “Kitchen door’s open—Adele’s in the swing—can you run in? I’m so afraid she’ll thrash her way out. I have to get them…”
“Of course!” Clara corralled the kids as quickly as she could to the screen door, through which she could see the metronome of the plush baby swing ticking soothingly side to side, while Adele defiantly screamed her head off, her face red, her tiny fists clenched with rage.
Thomas ran ahead in with arms outstretched, fingers wiggling, intent on tickling the baby’s bare feet. “I’m not sure she’s in the mood for that,” Clara called out, depositing Maddie on the tile and setting about unstrapping the flailing ball of flesh. She pulled the baby to her chest and bounced her rhythmically. “There now,” she said. Adele sniffled into her collarbone, her runny nose leaving a sticky trail across the front of Clara’s thermal, just as Randi rushed in and slid the door shut behind her.
“Oh, your poor shirt. No good deed goes unpunished,” Randi groaned.
“Now it matches the other side,” Clara said. She’d been joking, but she glanced down for effect and discovered that it was in fact offset by tiny fingerprints of maple syrup. She smiled ruefully at Randi.
“And Rhoda thinks she’s doing the ‘real’ work, getting up early to open the store.”
“That’s just a thing people say so they can play the martyr while saving their sanity. It’s a win-win for the working parent.”
“Stay for a cup of coffee? It’s been one of those weeks. Ooh! And I’m waiting for the second half of one of those Second Date Update segments Izzy does. Right after this set list.” Clara turned to hide her frown, ostensibly scanning the room for something to interest the kids so she could stay. She hadn’t seen Izzy for over a week now and was worried that she’d offended her with the heart-to-heart gone wrong after their dinner. But more than that, she was worried that what she’d said hadn’t swayed her.
Randi reached to turn up the radio that was mounted under a cabinet. One of the more annoying hit songs of late was playing, and Clara was reminded of why she didn’t tune in very often. “Thomas!” Randi clapped her hands brightly. “Adele got some new activity centers. She isn’t big enough for them yet, but I bet you and Maddie could help us figure out what cool things they can do!” Clara was content to snuggle the baby while Randi ducked into the hallway and reappeared with two of those little plastic tables toddlers can use to pull to standing. Soon she had Thomas and Maddie situated, testing every button, light, and lever, and was filling a steaming mug for Clara. “It’s free trade,” she said as she handed it over, as if Clara would have refused it otherwise.
The voice of the DJ piped into the kitchen over the closing notes of the song. “Good morning! If you’re just tuning in, you’re here with Sonny and Day on Freshly Squeezed, and we’ve got Michelle on the line, waiting to find out what’s become of Kevin. Michelle, are you ready as you’ll ever be?”
There was a nervous giggle of affirmation and then some dialing.
“Fill me in,” Clara said, shifting the baby so she could stir a splash of milk into her coffee. “Do we like Michelle? Do we think we’re going to like Kevin?”
“I don’t really know. The chickens drowned her out. But that’s okay—the second half is where you get the real story anyway.”
“If you ever get the real story.”
“Don’t be such a skeptic.” Some obligatory chitchat with the elusive Kevin was coming from the radio now, but Randi still had her eyes trained on Clara’s. “With a guy like Benny, what do you have to be so cynical about?”
Clara shrugged. “You’re not my only neighbors, you know.”
“Ah. The good doctor. Sometimes I forget he’s over there. Selective memory, I guess.”
“I wish I had that.”
“Well, I figure listening is about supporting Izzy. Did you get Hallie’s new edition of The Color-Blind Gazette yesterday? With that great profile of her on the second page?”
Clara smiled. “I would have settled for the kid not breaking any more laws, but she did a nice job with this one, didn’t she?”
“Between that and the little spotlight on our charity sale, I was quite impressed.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Day’s voice cut through the kitchen, sounding positively euphoric. “So you actually lost your cell phone?”
“I did.” Kevin’s laugh was pretty good-natured for someone who’d been put on the spot. He sounded young. Randi’s face lit up, and she lifted a silencing finger, waiting to hear what he had to say. “My replacement finally came in yesterday. I was able to keep my phone number, obviously, but they couldn’t retrieve my contacts. I’ve been kicking myself all week for not knowing how to reach her otherwise. I guess that’s the downside of meeting someone in a bar when you’re drunk…” He stopped and laughed more nervously, as if it had just occurred to him that his mom might be listening.
“So you never got my texts?” Michelle’s voice through the phone line was thick with amazement. She might have just been told that fairies exist.
“I never did. And I never would’ve blown you off.”
Day laughed merrily. “Kevin. This is a landmark case. I mean, this gives hope to jilted women everywhere! Do you realize that is the number-one excuse we invent for you guys when you don’t call? Maybe he lost his phone—he wants to call, but he just can’t! Am I right, Michelle? Tell me you haven’t thought that about, like, every guy who ever hasn’t called you!”
Clara leaned back in her chair, trying to decide whether this guy was telling the truth. Maybe they’d finally just hit on someone who didn’t have the guts to tell the whole listening area, “Hey, I really just was trying for a one-night stand and never had any intention of following up.” She couldn’t help but wonder how this was going over with Izzy. She couldn’t picture her not rolling her eyes behind the scenes.
At the other end of the phone, Michelle was laughing too now, giddy with the prospect of a second date after all. “So right,” she said emphatically.
“Thanks for breaking the mold, Kev,” Day said.
“Speaking of breaking the mold,” Sonny said. “We’ve never done more than one Second Date Update in a morning, but we have a special case here. A surprise involving one of our own staffers. A silent partner, if you will. Izzy, say hi to our listeners.”