Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I start up the walk to the daycare, but turn back when Ben calls out, “I just want what’s best for our baby, Mel. That’s all.”
I nod. “I know. So do I. We’re on the same page and the same team. Just try to remember that, okay?”
He sighs and nods before lifting a hand. “Tell Chase I’ll see him Saturday morning.”
“Will do.” I turn back to the small brick building, feeling better about where I stand.
The feeling lasts until Chase and I arrive at the witch house to find Aaron outside on the front porch, armed with a snow-dusted stick, facing down yet another possibly rabid squirrel.
Chapter 18
Aaron
I hear Mel car’s pulling up the driveway and tense. I want to grab my cell and text her to wait in the car until I’ve taken care of Nutty the Stalker Squirrel, but I still only have one functional arm.
So, I have to settle for shouting, “Get back in the car. I’m taking care of this,” when she steps out onto the pavement in front of the detached garage.
“What is it with you and squirrels?” she asks, lingering by her car, but not moving to get back inside.
“Not squirrels,” I correct, glaring at Nutty as he skitters a few steps closer, but stops when I point the stick more aggressively his way. “One individual squirrel. This is the same face-humping, Lego-tower-climbing psycho I thought the exterminator got rid of yesterday.”
“You’re kidding,” she says, shifting to get a better look at the other side of the porch. “How can you tell?”
“I just can,” I say, not wanting to discuss how close he came to humping my face again. If I hadn’t jumped out of the way in time, this porch standoff would have had a very different ending. “Somehow, he stowed away with the luggage. When Slasher grabbed the bags out of his trunk, this little shit jumped out.”
“Watch the language,” Mel says, “Chase can probably hear you through the window.”
“I can hear,” Chase shouts from the back seat, coming through loud and clear. “I think I like squirrels now. We should keep him as our pet!”
I shake my head. “No, bud, this squirrel is too whacky to keep as a pet. He might have a disease or something. He ran off into the woods when Slasher opened the trunk. I thought he was gone, but he was just lurking in wait. When I came out to open the garage for you guys, he ambushed me from under the eaves. He tried to jump on my face again. I barely escaped with my life.”
Mel shakes her head. “I don’t think ‘whacky’ is the word you’re looking for. I think the word you want starts with an ‘h’.”
“Not funny,” I say, glaring her way.
“Kind of funny,” she says, laughing.
The squirrel chitters and I shift my full focus to his twitching face. “No, it’s not funny, dude. I’m not going to be your boyfriend. Roll over and get lost.”
Much to my surprise, Nutty does indeed roll over before jumping back to his feet and lifting his tiny front paws in a “ta-da” motion that’s eerily human.
“Did he just roll over?” Mel asks.
The squirrel rolls over again, bouncing in excitement when he’s upright again.
“He did.” Mel eases closer, grinning at the beast. “Wow, what a talented little guy you are. Can you sit? Sit, Nutty.”
Nutty sits, now fairly trembling with excitement.
“Good boy,” Melissa says, wonder in her tone. “I think he must be someone’s pet, Aaron. Look how happy he is to be doing his tricks.”
At the word “trick” Nutty does a backflip.
She laughs. “Amazing. He’s not rabid or vicious. I think he’s just lonely. And probably looking for a way back to whoever taught him all this stuff in the first place.”
Chase shouts from the car, “Let me out, Mama, I want to pet Nutty and give him a treat.”
On “treat,” Nutty crawls forward on his belly, squeaking pitifully.
“You poor thing,” Mel coos. “Of course, we’ll get you a treat. Just a second. I have some nuts in the car.”
“You’re not feeding it!” I insist. “Or petting it.”
“Well, of course, we’re not petting it yet,” Mel says, leaning into the car to fetch the nuts from the center console. “Not until we make sure Nutty is in good health and likes people as much as he seems to. Then we’ll see. If he’s sweet with me, I think you can pet him, Chase.”
“Yay!” Chase cheers, clapping from his car seat.
My eyes go wide. “No way. We are not adopting a mentally ill squirrel.”
“Aw, don’t be that way,” Mel says. “He’s not mentally ill. He’s just lonely and your biggest fan.” She squints as she tosses a cashew on the ground near the steps. Nutty rushes for the treat, holding it tight in his paws as he nibbles. “And I’m not sure he’s a squirrel. His tail isn’t as fluffy. Not like the other squirrels in the yard, anyway.”