Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 8

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the next installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. To read Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 scroll to the bottom of the blog where it says OLDER POSTS.

 

"Notice that it says ENTRANCE rather than WELCOME," Skye snarled.  "Jail was nicer than this. I mean it. We kept the grounds tended and had a garden. This is a crime.

 

Kookie had started bobbing and ducking his head, while making little clicking noises with his beak. At least he was showing signs of life. I found that mildly comforting. The sliding doors opened with a wheezy hiss, revealing an industrial strength floor mat designed to keep you from slipping and sliding even in rainy weather.

 

The inside was actually...nice. The colors were a blue-gray, teal, and bright green. Soothing music played over a sound system. A low nap carpet with a pebble design led us in various directions. Dead ahead sat a white-washed gray reclaimed wood desk attended by a woman dressed in a long skirt with a vivid floral pattern, white blouse, and glasses. Her hair had been pulled back neatly into a cap, a sure sign she belonged to one of the more strict Fundamental Christian sects that make their home in Stuart and Hobe Sound.

 

"Hello. What a lovely bird! May I help you?" Getting gracefully to her feet, the woman extended a hand. "I'm Alyssa Cartwright, the receptionist. Do you have a family member here? Or are you inquiring about availability? How might I be of assistance?"

 

"Um," I intended to answer quickly, but my eyes were drawn to the marvelous shape of the place. It was as if the architect had envisioned a hug, an embrace, because the wings of the building formed a large half-circle around a central courtyard. Broad expanses of glass windows overlooked the outdoors. Those expensive window shades, the kind that allow you to see out but can be darkened, covered the windows, blocking the glare. Rather than respond directly to Alyssa's greeting, I hurried past her, through the clusters of furniture, and right up to the windows. There I pressed my face against the cool glass.

 

A sea of brown mud, decayed palm fronds, and torn up weeds provided the landscaping. Before I could open my mouth to protest, Skye had moved closer to the desk. Once there, she reached for Alyssa's hand and gave it a friendly shake. "We're here to see a friend, Helen Berger. This is her pet, Kookie."

 

"Helen?" Kookie's crest of feathers stood straight up. "Helen? Kookie loves you! Helen? Where is Helen? Hello???"

 

"My!" Alyssa's hand flew to her mouth. "We don't allow pets, but I can certainly see that this is an unusual situation."

 

I hustled back to the desk. "This is NOT an unusual situation. This is a crime! How can you plonk people down in a setting like this? This is ugly. Horrible! If I had to look out on this mud puddle all day long, I'd curl up in a ball and cry. To think that people are paying good money for this...this warehouse! It's a scam and you should be ashamed of yourself!"

 

I was so angry, so filled with indignation that I didn't hear the clip-clap of high heels behind me. A gentle hand touched my elbow. I whirled around and faced a woman wearing an inexpensive but elegant navy suit and a pastel blue button-up blouse. "I'll take it from here, Alyssa. I'm Greta Morgan, the administrator. And you are?"

 

"Cara Mia Delgatto and my friend Skye Blue. That's Kookie. Helen Berger's bird. We came to visit Helen." I stuck my jaw out, hoping to look as determined as I felt. "And I won't leave until we do."

 

Greta Morgan nodded. Her eyes were brown with amber flecks and her hair a dishwater blonde. The laugh lines around her mouth suggested she was well into her fifties, but her classic features would allow her to age gracefully. She studied me as I gave her the once over. As I did, she softened her stance, whether instinctively or to put me at ease, I couldn't tell.

 

"Of course, and so you shall. But first, could I get both of you a cup of tea? In my office? We can chat there. I'd love to hear more about Kookie, and about your involvement with Helen. I was under the impression she has no family."

 

"That doesn't mean no one cares about her," I snapped.

 

Skye nudged me forward. "Sounds wonderful. Lead the way."

 

I was still grumbling, but Alyssa leaned in and whispered, "Greta is wonderful. She'll listen. Honest she will. That woman has the patience of a saint."

 

~ To Be Continued ~

 

Remember, I'm adding new installments every day.

 

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Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 4

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the next installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. To read Parts 1, 2, and 3 scroll to the bottom of the blog post and click on OLDER POST.

Carrying the cage was awkward, but MJ and I managed. By the time we got it situated in the store, near the big display window, Honora had discovered her friend. She and Helen chatted amiably while Kookie looked on.

Next we hauled in the large perch. It looked like wrought iron and felt just as heavy. Admittedly, it was beautiful with a sculpted border on the stand and rich wooden arms. While MJ positioned it, I went back to the Cadillac and grabbed a large bag filled with bird food, treats, and vitamins. After carrying all those accoutrements in, I watched as Helen walked over and encouraged Kookie to step onto one of the arms of the perch. For the first time, I could see that Kookie was actually wearing a harness that clipped to a leash. Since the bird was snowy white, and the harness was too, you really couldn't tell that Kookie was restrained. Helen snapped the leash to the perch.

"Now, dear friend, it's time for us to part," said Helen, stroking the bird's breast. "I love you. I will love you until I go to my grave, and we'll never be parted in spirit. If I could take you with me to the assisted living facility, I would, dear Kookie. Give me one last kiss."

The bird had been watching her curiously, his head tilted as he regarded Helen. At the word "kiss," he leaned toward her and extended his beak to touch her lips lightly. With an almost human sigh, he said, "Helen, Kookie loves you."

A tear dribbled down Helen's face, leaving a wet mark where it journeyed over her skin. "And I love you, Kookie."

Without another word, she turned quickly, in an about-face movement, and walked out of the store.

Despite how I feel about birds, a lump had formed in my throat. Grabbing a tissue from the cash station, I dabbed my eyes. Honora followed suite. MJ swallowed repeatedly.

"I feel so bad for Helen," I managed.

Honora nodded. "She lost Jeb twenty years ago. That's when she adopted Kookie. I thought I'd never see her smile again after her husband died. They were devoted to each other. But she and Kookie formed a bond that's obviously kept Helen going."

Pausing to wipe her eyes, Honora added, "She's been hoping not to go to the assisted living facility, but she needs more and more skilled nursing care, and they have a room that's open. It's that new place not far from Cove Road. If Helen takes residence now, she won't have to move when the...when she...when hospice is called in. She has no family, so it's for the best, really."

Since my own mother died of cancer, I understood what Honora meant. Most likely Helen's last weeks would be grueling. She would need heavy-duty painkillers and around the clock care.

"Is it nice?" asked MJ in a quiet voice. "That facility?"

"I drove past it," said Honora. "I would describe it as bleak. The original developers went bankrupt halfway through the building process. A new company bought it, finished the work, and opened it, but the takeover was costly. There's no landscaping."

"I remember." MJ sighed. "It was supposed to be a state-of-the-art building. A real showplace."

"Yes. Now it's functional, or so I've been told." Honora's hand trembled as she wadded up the tissue. "Growing old in America is a real nightmare."

~ To Be Continued ~

Okay, kids! Show me some love! If you are liking this serialized short story, go to my Facebook page and hit "Like" the little blue thumb in a tiny white box under the big picture of me. (My toes point to the right. There are three boxes. "Like" is the second box.) Or tell a friend about the Cara Mia Delgatto Mystery Series. Here are the links:  Tear Down and Die  http://tinyurl.com/TearDD and Kicked to the Curb http://tinyurl.com/KickedTTCurb

Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 1

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the first installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. Enjoy!

Summer was coming to Florida. Daylight now extended nearly to my bedtime. The sea grapes had blossomed, scattering tiny white flowers across the grass. Snowbirds, our visitors from the northern states who flee to the South to escape bad weather, had all gone home. With them went their wallets, forcing me to be more and more creative as I tried to think up ways to keep the cash register at The Treasure Chest ringing. Every day, I spent time on Pinterest and Etsy, hoping to conjure up new ideas for turning trash into treasure.

"Cara, dear? Do you have a minute?" Honora tapped me in the shoulder, forcing me to tear myself away from a Pinterest board featuring cool ideas for Cinco de Mayo.

"Of course," I said, pushing back from my desk. "What's up?"

Honora adjusted her glasses and patted the gray bun of hair resting on her collar. Even though the days had grown warmer, she still dressed formally, favoring seersucker shirtwaist dresses with narrow white patent leather belts. "I have a favor to ask. Rather a large one, I'm afraid."

All sorts of ideas flitted through my mind. Did she need to borrow money? Did her daughter EveLynn need a reference for her soft goods business? Did Honora need a few days vacation? However, my father taught me it's better to stay silent than to plunge ahead and stir up trouble.

So I waited.

Honora slipped into the chair facing my workspace. "I have a friend. A very, very dear old friend. Her name is Helen Berger.  Like me, she's facing the twilight of her life. But sadly, her health is also declining. Recently Helen was diagnosed with inoperable cancer."

I swallowed hard. My own mother had died of breast cancer. The months after the diagnosis had been grim, and the last weeks of her life had been ghastly. "I'm so sorry."

"Yes, well..." Honora reached into her pocket and withdrew a linen handkerchief. Slowly, she rubbed her glasses' lenses clean. "She's moving from her apartment into assisted living. A prelude to hospice, really."

I bit my lip rather than charge ahead. Probably Honora was going to ask if I'd buy up Helen's worldly goods. After all, that's how our shop got started. The old owner, Essie Feldman, bought goods from estate sales. I might be interested, but only if the price and merchandise was right. My mind bounced figures around, thinking of what I could budget, when Honora interrupted with...

"And she has a pet that needs a home."

"A pet?" This wasn't at all what I expected, but it wasn't as unusual as I'd predicted. My friend and co-worker Skye had been teasing me that I was running an animal shelter as well as a haven for misfits and second-hand junk. I didn't mind her jokes. Jack, my rescue Chihuahua is my constant companion, often sitting in my lap while I work at the computer. Luna, the gray cat who was given to me when her owner died, likes to sit in our display window and sun herself. She's pretty aloof except at night when she curls up in the crook behind my knees.

"Yes. A bird. A cockatoo."

I frowned, because I'm not really a bird person. In fact, they sort of terrify me.

 

~ To Be Continued Tomorrow ~

Grieving the Loss of Your Pet

In Memory of Victoria Slan

Special Tribute to Victoria by Sally Lippert

Have you ever lost a pet to illness or accident?

Or were you forced to give one away or leave one behind?

We all felt Joanna's pain last week when she could no longer watch poor Victoria suffer. Joanna made the painful choice to release her pet. As her vet told her, "This is the right thing for Victoria; the hard thing for you."

I visited Joanna's house a few days before she decided to let Victoria go, and I could sense as I sat next to her that the dog's life force was leaving her physical being. There was something about the way she moved, her lack of response and interest in the world around her, that signaled her withdrawal. I've seen the same behavior from my clients when it's their time to die. I've also been amazed at how pets would respond near the end of their masters' lives.

Most stayed in the bed snuggled up to their human's body.

They wouldn't eat, drink, or leave to go out especially if they had been with them a long time.

The family would call me several days later to ask what could they do for the surviving pet.

Most don't understand that animals grieve like people.

I asked Joanna how Rafferty, her other dog, is doing without Victoria. She said he is very quiet, but he seems calm. When she took Victoria for her last trip to the vet's office, he didn't whine to go with them. It was almost as if he knew.

I reminded her that it was probably stressful for him to see her failing. At some point he's going to realize that she is not there anymore, and his behavior might change yet again. I suggested that she give him extra TLC over the next few weeks.

The that I spent time with the dying was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I was able to share their final moments and a curse for the loss that I had to experience. Most of all, my work in hospice served to remind me that life doesn't last forever. Never regret the time spent with those you love--whether it be human or an animal, their memory will leave footprints on your heart.