Page 9 of Not Mine to Rescue

Neither was Lemon Summerchild. But it wasn’t our fault our parents were weird. My oldest sister got the benefit of having a real last name, being Sonnet Calvert. She was born before my parents found out they could put whatever fool thing they liked on the birth certificate. Calvert was my Mom’s last name. Dad’s was pronounced, “Koh-burn” but was spelled with the first four letters, c-o-c-k. There wasn’t any way, shape, or form I’d take that name. I caught enough shit for two lifetimes with the combo I had. Besides, I actually liked my last name, Blessing. It was proof my parents cared about me at one time.

It’s the other part I could do without. The story, often joked about, went like this. Mom’s dad was angry his daughter had yet another kid with the slacker before they both were twenty. He’d overheard the ideas being tossed around for Baby Calvert the second and yelled out, “You can’t just give random names to a child.” Mom and Dad looked at each other and basically said, “WATCH US DO JUST THAT.”

My youngest sister was named Hallelujah Nox. She lived in Oregon with Mom and Dad. No one thought her name was weird there.

I held my free hand out to Honoria. “Nice to see you again.”

Lemon walked up with the dogs in tow, saving me from making small talk with the club’s lawyer. She made animal introductions, skipping me. “… and that’s DA. He’s not as stupid as my brother says he is.”

Oh, yes, he was. Like many male things, he was motivated by two things, food and sex. Thank god I’d gotten him neutered before he became a menace to society. Otherwise, he’d be just like me.

I dug in my pants and pulled out a stick of jerky for DA. I broke off a piece for Molly. She sniffed it but remained in place. Interesting. Definitely a diva like her mom.

I tried a different tactic. “You’re a good girl, Molly.”

Her eyes shot to mine. Her tail thumped once.

I knew it. “Yeah, good girl.” I deliberately made the words come out as a low rumble to see if they riled Honoria.

Her cheeks colored slightly. “I didn’t think she liked low voices.”

I stared into her eyes. “You do.”

Lemon cleared her throat and slapped the back of my head. “I told you to behave.”

“Never.”

“My neighbor tells me you do wildlife rescues.”

I let Lemon take the lead on that because I didn’t like the way Honoria stared at me. Much more of that sultry-eyed hero-worship and I’d forget we had bills to pay and drag Honoria on a tour of the farm. One of those stops was certain to be the barn loft or my garage apartment.

Because I was a sucker for two things. Older women and long legs.

Honoria had both of those characteristics in banging style. And that had me following her like a starving dog while Lemon showed her around the farm.

About halfway through, Honoria’s phone rang. She apologized profusely, claiming she had to take the call. She walked a little distance away.

That gave me an opportunity to talk to my sister. “She’s a lawyer.”

Lemon’s face lit up, then she groaned. “Don’t tell me you know her.”

I nodded. “My lawyer.”

“How in the hell did I get cursed with you?”

I nudged her so she’d keep her volume down.

But there was no need. Honoria’s volume had increased, too.

“We talked about this, Jim. She’s stressed because of the back and forth.”

There was a pause. Whatever “Jim” was saying was old news to her because Honoria practically screamed her frustration aloud. Instead, she shot an aggravated face at the sky before putting the phone back to her ear. “I’ll pay for the damages to the door.”

His reply was almost loud enough to hear. As it was, Honoria leaned away from the phone’s speaker to protect her hearing.

She waited until he wound down. “Then maybe I should have full custody.”

Custody? Damn, Honoria had kids?