Page 23 of Out on a Limb
Andrew stared at me. “I can’t tell if you’re serious.”
Neither could I.
“They put diapers on monkeys. Why couldn’t I put a diaper on a chicken?”
Andrew’s stare continued, but this time it was more than just disbelief hanging there.
There was some shock mixed in. Maybe a little confusion.
Understandable.
Because right now I was trying to figure out how to determine the diaper size of a rooster.
I swear I was sane when I woke up this morning, but somewhere between getting out of bed and lunchtime I’d lost at least a few of my marbles.
“I’m not really going to put Phillip in diapers.” Today.
I kept my eyes straight ahead.
“I feel like you’re lying.” Andrew’s attention was completely focused on me.
And didn’t that just suck a giant bag of Phillips?YearsI’d been trying to get this man’s attention.
If I’d known all it took was a rooster in a harness and a bucket of chicken, I’d have made both appear a long damn time ago.
Instead of when it was too late.
“I’m probably lying.” I pulled into my spot at the garden and parked my new Jeep. “If he shits in my house I’m definitely going to try putting him in a diaper.”
“You know they make dogs.” Andrew was back to his serious self. “They usually don’t shit in your house.” His eyes went over Phillip’s small frame. “And their leashes don’t make them look like they’re ready to join a BDSM club.”
“But he needs me.” I scooped Phillip up. “If I don’t take him home he’ll end up in one of those buckets on your lap.”
Andrew didn’t argue with me, which meant I was probably right. Without me Phillip would end up batter-dipped and deep-fried.
I pulled him a little closer as we walked across the parking lot.
“Looks like your car’s still the only one here.” Andrew scowled at the empty spots next to my Jeep.
I’d been so distracted by Phillip’s potential future at the bottom of a cardboard bucket that I hadn’t even noticed.
Or maybe I was just used to it at this point. In the past year my granddad showed up only a handful of times. Few enough that Julia had never met him in person.
Not until she caught him showing Sylvia his pill-enhanced pecker in a closet at The Sweet Side, a local dinner and dancing club that my granddad frequented.
“I was really hoping he’d show up.” I was caught in that uncomfortable spot between anger and disappointment.
Why couldn’t he just be a decent human and do his damn job?
Or, if he was tired of doing his job, pass it on to someone else.
But that’s not who he was. Wilfred Johnson III didn’t give up an ounce of power he held. Didn’t matter how it affected everyone else, as long as he still got what he wanted.
Andrew squinted across the lot that was only about half as full as it would have been two years ago. “What are you going to do?”
“WhatcanI do?”
I’d yelled.
