Page 68 of Mother Clucker

The local news van was a welcome site. So was what I recognized as the New Millennia Media crew van.

So the powers that be had taken my suggestion and decided to shoot the adopt-a-thon for one of the episodes after all. I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride that I’d come up with the idea.

I wondered which show was shooting. Cold Feet maybe. They were just wrapping up production on that. Hot House was between seasons. Maybe Gabby’s Trash to Treasure was shooting here. She had made that cute pet bed out of old rubber tires and I’d mentioned that to Joanne.

Excited now, I jumped out of the car and locked the door . . . and then saw Drew’s truck.

Shaking I moved to the side yard where the puppy pens and adoption tables were set up. I saw Drew, talking to one of the female cast from Cold Feet.

I did not see David—and the mingled disappointment and relief had me bending over at the waist, hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath.

What was I going to do if he showed up? But how was I going to feel if he didn’t?

Determined, I straightened. He was not going to destroy today. I’d help make this event what it was and I was not going to let him ruin it for me.

I pivoted and went inside the front of the building, avoiding a conversation with Drew for now.

There was work to be done and I was here to help do it.

27

David

Sitting next to Pops for so many hours for so many days listening to those monitors beep must have done something to my brain.

That’s the only explanation I could come up with for the fact I was searching insect protein as food on my laptop’s browser.

I’d finally smartened up and realized the hospital had free WiFi and that I could get at least some work done while there.

A thousand emails loomed in my inbox and here I was looking up studies about using bugs for food.

Yup. It was official. I’d lost it.

Meanwhile, John had been right. The concept was as fascinating as it was disgusting.

Maybe the human race of the future would be okay with eating bugs, but I wasn’t. But the studies about using insect protein for animal feed were particularly interesting.

I’d picked up for Rowdy and Drew’s girls a big bag of mealworms right before I’d left, as a treat. So it wasn’t completely a foreign concept.

What was interesting was the idea of replacing all animal protein currently used in pet food with insect protein.

I’d joked with Heather about vegan pet food after she’d called me a chicken murderer and here I was looking at research proving it was possible to make healthy nutritious pet food without meat.

Heather would be happy to hear it—if she ever spoke to me again.

“What’s wrong?”

I glanced up from my laptop to see my sister watching me. “Who said anything was wrong?”

Amy cocked up a brow. “That big old sigh of yours did.”

I drew in a breath. She’d known me for too long for me to lie to her. “I fucked up.”

Normally she’d say something snarky, such as what else is new. That she didn’t proved I must look as miserable as I felt.

I continued, “There’s this girl . . .”

Her eyes widened. “A girl?”

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