“Oh, Dudley, sweet pretty bird!” I said as we opened the sliding glass door to the terrace. “Look who’s home …”
“It’s just a stupid bird,” Geoffrey said. “Quit your squawking over it.”
I looked at Geoff and hoped he saw daggers in my eyes. “Never you mind, sweet little thing. Don’t you mind the big bad wolf. He’s a meany and he doesn’t love anything.”
Geoffrey snorted. “Yeah, right, like I don’t love you. Like I live with you for seven years and I don’t love you. Now how foolish crazy is that.”
“Exactly as I’ve wondered. Come, Dudley,” I said, “let Donnie play with his sweet pretty little bird. And look what I’ve got for you! I’ve got a treat …”
“For crying out loud, you treat that bird better than you ever treated me. If you gave me –“
“If I gave you?” I said. What hadn’t I given that no-good moocher these past years? “The only thing you’ve given me in the past seven years is a bad case of clap.”
“Enough of that. We went through that two years ago. You had to bring it up, you just had to bring up yesterday’s news. Well, go screw –“
“Be nice,” I said. “Dudley has impressionable ears for a parrot. He’ll get all nervous like and start plucking his feathers. Just like when you were seeing that horrible Noel thing –“
“Which brings me to something I have to tell you, Donnie …”
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