as McClain’s bird chose that moment to take to the air and land on Leander’s head.
“Lulu, get back here! Sorry about that,” McClain apologized. He was about to raise a hand to call the bird back, but Leander stopped him.
“It’s okay, I love birds.” He put a hand up to his head, and focusing his talent, nudged the bird slightly on the energetic level. The bird stepped obediently on to his hand and he brought her around, up close to his face. “Hello lovey! My, aren’t you a pretty girl,” he murmured. The cockatiel leaned over to nibble at his lips. He put up a finger and lightly petted the bird on the cheek, along the round orange patch situated on the white feathers there. The bird rolled her head flirtatiously and chirped at him.
“So, you, ah, have a bit of a feel for birds,” McClain said with a meaningful look.
“You could say I have a talent for it,” Leander said.
McClain gave a decisive nod. “Bird Master?”
“Yep,” Leander replied. “You?”
“Yep,” McClain responded with a small smile. And so it was out, the mutual acknowledgement that both were powered, and shared a talent. “Do you live around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you in the store before.”
Leander extended the hand with the bird and lifted it in McClain’s direction. She flew around McClain’s head in a couple of excited circles before settling back on his shoulder, the one draped in a small white towel.
“No, I live downtown, in Pioneer Square. I just moved to Seattle a couple of weeks ago and I’m exploring neighborhoods. I can never resist checking out a new bookstore.”
“What brought you to Seattle?” McClain asked.
“Basically just a desire to try living someplace new. I’m self-employed as a freelance editor, so I can basically live where I like. I visited Seattle last year, and the place just resonated with me.”
McClain shrugged. “I grew up here myself, so it’s just home to me.”
The two men continued to chat, veering from Seattle neighborhoods, back to books, then on to music. Leander managed to make the man laugh a number of times, which was always a good sign. Then McClain mentioned some traditional Irish musicians as favorites, and Leander pretended more interest than he felt. There was an awkward moment when another customer came in and had a question for McClain, when Leander feared the conversational flow might not recover, but to his relief, McClain re-engaged him as soon as the customer had been directed to the correct part of the store, and better yet, he soon offered up an invitation.
“Look, seeing as how you’re new here in town, why don’t you come to our place this Friday? We’re having our annual St. Patrick’s Day bash. I’ve got some friends who play traditional music who usually show up, and it’s a good group of people, powered and normals both.” The last part he said in a lowered voice, with a glance to the back of the store where the other customer was shopping.
Leander felt a warm rush of satisfaction. Got it in one, he thought, even faster than I wagered myself . “Wow, yeah, I’d love to. Is there anything I can bring?”
“It’s BYOB. Sophie and I provide the snacks and some beer to get started with.” McClain pulled one of the bookstore’s cards off of its blue ceramic dragon holder and wrote his home address and number on it, then handed it over with a flourish. “You’re welcome to bring a guest, of course.”
“I hate to say I don’t know anyone here in town yet, so it’ll just be me.” Leander replied with just the right blend of embarrassment and attempted nonchalance. Bruce smiled warmly at him, and told him what time the party was starting. Leander paid for his book, thanked him again, and said his goodbyes to McClain and Lulu the bird. He walked back to his car with a swing in his step. Damn, I'm good! he told himself.
CHAPTER FIVE
Bree drove over to Bruce and Sophie’s for the St. Patrick’s Day party
“Lulu, get back here! Sorry about that,” McClain apologized. He was about to raise a hand to call the bird back, but Leander stopped him.
“It’s okay, I love birds.” He put a hand up to his head, and focusing his talent, nudged the bird slightly on the energetic level. The bird stepped obediently on to his hand and he brought her around, up close to his face. “Hello lovey! My, aren’t you a pretty girl,” he murmured. The cockatiel leaned over to nibble at his lips. He put up a finger and lightly petted the bird on the cheek, along the round orange patch situated on the white feathers there. The bird rolled her head flirtatiously and chirped at him.
“So, you, ah, have a bit of a feel for birds,” McClain said with a meaningful look.
“You could say I have a talent for it,” Leander said.
McClain gave a decisive nod. “Bird Master?”
“Yep,” Leander replied. “You?”
“Yep,” McClain responded with a small smile. And so it was out, the mutual acknowledgement that both were powered, and shared a talent. “Do you live around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you in the store before.”
Leander extended the hand with the bird and lifted it in McClain’s direction. She flew around McClain’s head in a couple of excited circles before settling back on his shoulder, the one draped in a small white towel.
“No, I live downtown, in Pioneer Square. I just moved to Seattle a couple of weeks ago and I’m exploring neighborhoods. I can never resist checking out a new bookstore.”
“What brought you to Seattle?” McClain asked.
“Basically just a desire to try living someplace new. I’m self-employed as a freelance editor, so I can basically live where I like. I visited Seattle last year, and the place just resonated with me.”
McClain shrugged. “I grew up here myself, so it’s just home to me.”
The two men continued to chat, veering from Seattle neighborhoods, back to books, then on to music. Leander managed to make the man laugh a number of times, which was always a good sign. Then McClain mentioned some traditional Irish musicians as favorites, and Leander pretended more interest than he felt. There was an awkward moment when another customer came in and had a question for McClain, when Leander feared the conversational flow might not recover, but to his relief, McClain re-engaged him as soon as the customer had been directed to the correct part of the store, and better yet, he soon offered up an invitation.
“Look, seeing as how you’re new here in town, why don’t you come to our place this Friday? We’re having our annual St. Patrick’s Day bash. I’ve got some friends who play traditional music who usually show up, and it’s a good group of people, powered and normals both.” The last part he said in a lowered voice, with a glance to the back of the store where the other customer was shopping.
Leander felt a warm rush of satisfaction. Got it in one, he thought, even faster than I wagered myself . “Wow, yeah, I’d love to. Is there anything I can bring?”
“It’s BYOB. Sophie and I provide the snacks and some beer to get started with.” McClain pulled one of the bookstore’s cards off of its blue ceramic dragon holder and wrote his home address and number on it, then handed it over with a flourish. “You’re welcome to bring a guest, of course.”
“I hate to say I don’t know anyone here in town yet, so it’ll just be me.” Leander replied with just the right blend of embarrassment and attempted nonchalance. Bruce smiled warmly at him, and told him what time the party was starting. Leander paid for his book, thanked him again, and said his goodbyes to McClain and Lulu the bird. He walked back to his car with a swing in his step. Damn, I'm good! he told himself.
CHAPTER FIVE
Bree drove over to Bruce and Sophie’s for the St. Patrick’s Day party
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