Bird After Bird Read Free Page A

and wandered away to refill her red party cup. It seemed like it didn’t matter how nice I was, just being away from Birdseye had put me out of a small town loop that had grown more contemptuous than it had been in high school. Cindy had been part of the homecoming court, and although we weren’t super close, I’d always thought of her as a friend.
    At least she was kinder than that at Dad’s funeral. Who knew what she would say tonight?
    “I’m alright, Cindy. Just down here taking care of Dad’s estate.”
    She nodded, but her smile fell and she went to grab another beer. “Want one?” she called. One of the four men walked with her. I wondered if he was the one who called me a stuck up bitch when he thought it wasn’t me. Probably him or the one who’d turned away first. They whispered at the bar.
    “No, thanks,” I said. “I’m driving.”
    Cindy laughed at something her male friend said, making an ugly face.
    Despite what anyone said, I never thought I was too good for Birdseye. It just hurt to be here. Both my parents were dead and my grandparents, too. I had distant cousins on my mom’s side in nearby towns, but we’d never really been close. All my friends were in Chicago now.
    “Saw you on Facebook,” one of the remaining guys said. I recognized him, but try as I might, I could not remember his name. “Sent you a friend request. You ever going to answer it?”
    The truth was, I never accepted friend requests from people I didn’t know, but before I could think of a polite response, another fellow answered for me.
    “Oh, you know Wren ain’t got time for the likes of you, Joe-Joe.” He was drunk, but good-natured and he smiled as he said it. “If I were her I’d be driving that little Beemer up and down the lake front, going to ball games...lots of stuff to do up there. The top go down on that car, Wren?”
    I knew his face from study hall. I did. He’d always been into cars. What was his name? Praise God! It was on his belt buckle.
    “It does, Jeremiah. Hard top. Comes off completely.” He smiled and nodded in approval. “How’s life? You still fixing up cars?”
    His face lit up. “You remembered? Cool! Yeah, I got an auto body shop out on Route 145. Mostly insurance work, but I bought an old 1932 Ford pick-up, thinking of turning it into a street rod and taking it to—“
    “Wren Riley doesn’t care about your stupid old jalopy,” Cindy interrupted. She rejoined the circle, bumping one of the guys out of the way with her hip. “Get a clue, Jeremiah. The way you’re slobbering all over Wren, she’s going to need a towel here in a minute.”
    Jeremiah’s face went red. I felt the anger rise in my throat, like acid reflux. I told myself not to speak, but Jeremiah was being so nice to me, Cindy’s rudeness just set my temper off. I fought to control of my tongue.
    Jeremiah turned to go inside the bar. “I’d love to see the truck, sometime, Jeremiah!” I called after him. I wasn’t sure if he heard me over the music.
    “Like hell you would,” Cindy grumbled. She lifted a bottle of beer to her mouth and had a big swig, smirking as she swallowed.
    “Why do you have to act like this?” I hissed. “What did I ever do to you?”
    Joe-Joe and the last guy who I’d yet to place backed away. The one who’d wandered off initially sat across the deck smirking as Cindy squared her shoulders to face me.
    “What did you ever do to anyone , Wren? Did you come to my Sweet Sixteen party? No. Did you come to my graduation party? Yes, for about five minutes, then you left again. ‘Gotta pack for Northwestern! Oh, Northwestern! None of you dumb hicks are getting into an uppity school like Northwestern! No one but me, I’m Wren Riley!’ How about my wedding? No. Did you even know I got married? I’m guessing you didn’t since you didn’t come to the divorce party, either. Only thing you got time for down here is a class reunion. Why’d you even come to that? Paid appearance?”