Page 31 of Out on a Limb
“I’ll walk you out.”
Chapter Seven
Collette
I WAS THREE glasses of wine in when my doorbell started to ring.
Which meant I was loosened up enough that I tripped over Phillip as I tried to get to the door. He squawked and I yelped, but both of us stayed on our feet.
So that was a win.
I peeked out the hole. A line of faces stared back at me.
I should have answered my phone one of the five million times it rang.
I opened the door, bracing myself for what was coming. “Hey.”
“Don’theyus.” Sylvia, Grant’s grandmother, and Julia’s frequent partner in crime, looked me up and down. “You look awful.”
“I look comfortable.” I’d taken off my makeup, my pants, and my bra. I was done being irritated by anything.
“You look like you had a shit day.” Sylvia pushed past me, carrying a cooler in one hand. She stopped two feet in and stared down at Phillip. “Is that a chicken in a diaper?”
“It’s notnota chicken in a diaper.” I was hoping I wouldn’t have to explain my current living situation to anyone.
Especially since I was well aware that it made me look like I’d lost my mind.
And maybe I had.
I’d almost kissed Andrew after clearly misreading the situation, adding one more problem to the list I had to deal with.
“Why do you have a chicken in a diaper in your house?” Sylvia started moving again, dodging Phillip on her way to drop into one of the chairs in my living room.
“It didn’t seem like a great idea to have a diaperless chicken in my house.” I went to flop down on the side of the sofa where I’d been sitting most of the night, working my way through a bottle of white, a jar of pickles, and a bag of Cheetos.
“His name’s Phillip.” Julia came in, followed by Sharon Sherling and Barb Hill. “He’s one of the chickens I told you about.”
“Someone needs to teach those assholes a lesson.” Sylvia flipped open the lid on her cooler before pulling out a White Claw and cracking it open. “We should burn all their shit down.”
I wasn’t as against the idea as I should be. “There’s not much to burn down.” I tipped back the last of the wine in my glass before pouring in more. “Just some heavy equipment and their office trailer.”
“Maybe if they worked on building houses instead of dumping chickens through fences they’d have one finished by now.” Julia went straight to my kitchen and started digging through the fridge I kept well-stocked. Life was too short to eat bad food.
“Eat whatever you want.” I swallowed down a little more of the liquid I was hoping might drown at least a few of the problems stacking up against me. “Just don’t feed Phillip any chicken.”
Sharon pulled a flask out of her bra and twisted the lid. “You know this isn’t the only way there is to get some cock, right?”
I misswallowed my next gulp, sending it straight down my breather.
“This one’s hot for the guy who works with Julia.” Sylvia continued the conversation like I wasn’t choking to death six feet away from her. “The one with the thick thighs.”
Sharon’s lips curved in a smile. “I remember him.” Her drawn-on brows lifted. “He fills his shorts outeverywhere.”
If I could be anything but half-delirious from oxygen deprivation, it would be unsurprised.
I used to think of old people as sweet little harmless things that drank decaffeinated coffee and fell asleep during Jeopardy.
Now I knew better.
