Page 20 of Crossing the Line
"I don't think she said exactly."
August groaned. "Now she's the tree whisperer?"
Bixby shrugged. "I wanted to argue about it, but..."
Hank snorted. "But... Now you think you should call someone out to take a look at it?"
He nodded."Can't hurt right?"
August tapped his fingers on the table, his face showing his emotions. "If you just give in and do it, isn't she going to feel like she can just... order you around?"
"Have you seen her?" Bixby drew himself up, lifting his chin. "She barely comes up to my ribs!"
Hank dropped his chin and stared back at Bixby. "She might be small, but she's annoying when she wants to be. Like... like a mosquito. Barely bigger than your fingernail but one bite will make you itch for hours."
August's nose wrinkled and Bixby felt a little sick to his stomach as he spoke.
"I really didn't need that image in my head."
Hank raised a brow. "Mosquitoes?"
"Well, sort of." Bixby grimaced. "Like that fly in the Phil Collins video, with his head on it? Now I'm imagining Moira's head on a mosquito."
Hank frowned at his words. "Fly in a video?"
Bixby looked at the two men at the table. "It might have been a little before your times. I think the video was for the song... uh... 'Billy'? Something?"
August and Hank both frowned in thought.
It was August who snapped his fingers. "Don't Lose My Number."
Hank drew back a little. "Why does that strike a chord with me?"
Bixby smiled then, chuckling a little. "Chord? Ha."
Hank rolled his eyes. "I mean it. The song..."
Bixby nodded. "It's the one with the crazy video where people are pitching videos to him. So there's a little bit of everything in it. 80s Aerobics-"
August leaned in. "Like "Physical" by Olivia Newton John."
Hank nodded. "And... that Elton John video on the beach with the boater hat."
"I'm Still Standing."
Hank pointed at him. "Exactly!"
"Ah..." August nodded. "The fly thing was from... another video."
The waitress stopped beside their table and put a basket of waffle fries in front of each of them and then a carrier for BBQ sauces. "Anything else?"
Bixby smiled at the basket in front of him. "I think we're good, thanks."
The waitress turned slightly, and leaned her hip against the edge of the table. "You sure?"
He looked up to answer her again and saw the smile she had aimed at him.
He'd seen that smile before.
