Luxury Model Wife by Adele Downs

bed and rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes.
    Someone was at the front door, ringing the bell.
    Victoria tossed off the coverlet and slid into her slippers. She threw on her robe and marched down the hall. “Coming,” she shouted. The bells chimed again.
    “Be right there,” she hollered down the stairs, wrapping her peignoir tighter while she descended.
    Victoria opened the door.
    “It’s about freaking time,” Beverly shouted and pushed past her. “I’ve been trying to reach you forever.”
    “I’m off today, remember?”
    “Get dressed. I’m taking you to Carlson’s. It’s an emergency.”
    Victoria’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s wrong?”
    “I’ll tell you on the way.” She pointed to the upstairs landing. “Hurry.”
    Victoria turned toward the stairs and said over her shoulder. “You are a bossy one, have I told you that?”
    “Tell someone who hasn’t met me.” Beverly pulled out her cigarettes and headed for the door. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
    Ten minutes later, as Beverly’s Mercedes streaked down the driveway, Victoria adjusted a sandal and tucked her silk blouse into her twill skirt in the passenger seat. Though she’d brushed the knots from her hair she’d had no time for makeup. “What’s happened?”
    “It’s Pirate.”
    Victoria’s heart skittered. “Is he okay?”
    “He got out of his cage and I can’t catch him. He’s been flying around the store all morning, leaving messes all over the place. The last time he zipped across the room his wing hit an antique reproduction of the Pieta. I think it might be broken—his wing, not the statue. Pirate’s been sitting on the Blessed Mother’s head for at least an hour and won’t move.”
    A lump rose in Victoria’s throat. Though Pirate was a pet, he was the only family she had left, and she couldn’t imagine losing him after losing everyone else she’d loved.
    Beverly opened the driver’s side window and lit another smoke. Her silver-ringed hands shook with the effort. “It’s my fault. I gave him his food, but forgot to lock the cage afterward. The phone rang, and by the time I was halfway across the room and remembered to latch the door, it was too late. Pirate was out.”
    She took a deep drag of her cigarette and blew out the smoke. “I’m so sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
    Victoria shook her head. “I shouldn’t have foisted him on you. He’s not your responsibility. I just thought he’d be happier around more people.”
    Beverly took a few more puffs and then put her cigarette out in the ashtray. “And you were right. I love that bird almost as much as you do. I feel really bad. He won’t come to me, but I’m hoping he’ll fly to you. We’ll take him to the vet.”
    “Poor Pirate,” Victoria sighed. “He must be scared half to death.”
    “Yeah.” Beverly’s eyes filled with tears.
    “It’ll be okay.” Victoria touched her friend’s forearm. She’d thought of Beverly as the strong one, but realized how fragile the woman could be.
    They pulled into Carlson’s parking lot a few minutes later and rushed into the store. Steve stood on a stepladder, trying to coax the cockatiel from the top of Mary’s head. He turned to Victoria with a chagrined expression and said, “Not a religious fellow is he?”
    At least Steve hadn’t lost his quirky sense of humor. Victoria glanced around the room. Considering that Pirate had trailed a mess of feathers, dander, and doo across the store, Steve had remained remarkably calm. A surge of gratitude and affection for him filled her. The crusty exterior he presented was a sham.
    “Let me try.” When she moved forward, Pirate seemed to recognize her, and squawked. His little legs danced and his black eyes blinked. He stretched his white wings and flapped them as if to lift off, but stopped short of flying and settled again on his perch. The down-covered flesh on his breast fluttered over his rapid heartbeat.
    Victoria clicked her tongue