Page 24 of Artfully Wild
Each picture has their names and when you click on them it opens anAbout Mepage. Every single animal is accounted for and has fun facts on their pages, too. Sophie must have helped her with this. And Avery probably took the photos. This would have taken me months to create—let’s face it, it would have been much longer than that—and they all made it happen within a day.
Going back to our text thread, I take quick glances at the restof the links which are socials Charlotte must have also created. Each one has an introduction post or video that already has dozens of likes and comments. I can’t comprehend how this stuff has already been seen by people who didn’t even know we existed yesterday. There’s even message notifications about which animals are still up for adoption.
This combined with the money we are expected to get from the auction could actually work. For the first time since I came to terms with the fact that the shelter is too small and the only option was to expand, I feel a small glimpse of hope. Of possibility. I wasn’t able to wrap my head around this actually happening until now. It still doesn’t feel real. I mean, I knew the paintings would be a huge hit, but now Charlotte has found the perfect way to bring in more tourists to the town while making their main reason for coming to the festival: the animals.
Holy shit.This is going to work. I almost decide to hold off texting her, because it’s late, but I can’t not respond to her. She sent me the message almost twenty minutes ago and knowing Charlotte has the girls over tonight, she’s still awake.
I am not even sure how to thank you. This is incredible. THANK YOU!
Three bubbles pop up for a split second before her message comes in.
Charlotte
You’re welcome. We can talk terms later. But you owe me a pair of boots.
The image of Charlotte in heeled, white boots and a chunky knit sweater navigating around the shelter makes me chuckle. I am not sure what I did to deserve her as a friend. Hell, we are all lucky Hudson pulled his head out of his ass and opened up to Avery. Without her, there would be no Charlotte and I think we would be all lost without both of them.
I open my messages and find the pinned conversation,Little Sparrow,followed by a bird emoji, but drop my phone when a squawk pierces the air, startling me.
“I am Beyonce, always,” says the parrot. What thefuckdoes that even mean? I groan as I roll over, retrieving my phone from where it fell to the floor and prop my elbows on either side of me.
You really had to teach Frank another ridiculous phrase?
Her response comes almost immediately.
Little Sparrow
Yes. I have to ensure he has a well rounded vocabulary.
“Well, well, well, how the turn tables.” The words tumble out in a garbled speech typical from a household parrot.
He’s actually one that Frank—the human, Frank—brought in a couple of years ago when he went hunting, or walking, or frolicking, whatever it is Frank does in his spare time. But he heard the parrot in the woods, followed the sound and I think he regretted his decision to save it the second he picked it up, because when he brought it into me that day, all he did was grumble, “This thing won’t shut the hell up because it’s hurt and can’t do anything else besides talk.”
He just set it on the counter, gave its head a pat and left through the door. If he had stayed, I’d have tried to convince him to take the damn thing with him. Especially since all Skylar has done is teach him dirty phrases, inappropriate quotes from movies, and now apparently, she’s moved on to a different set of quotes. It always takes me a while to figure out her new pattern though, and this one won’t be much different. I love movies and television, but I don’t have much time to keep up with it all.
“I am a little stitious,” he squawks.
Did Frank just say he’s a little stitious? What does that even mean?
Little Sparrow
Ugh. Yes, but he missed half the quote. It’s funnier with the other half.
“That, I don’t believe,” I mutter.
“That’s what she said.”
Really. That’s what she said? You’re stooping to teenage boy humor?
Little Sparrow
Jacob, how do you not stoop to teenage boy humor? They have the best jokes.
They have the dumbest jokes, you mean. Ethan is going to loooove you when he’s older.
Little Sparrow
Hah. I’m already the favorite.
