“All natural, made with cane sugar.”
“Is it good?”
“No.” I shake my head. “But I purchased six cases of it so I’ve been drinking them.”
“Why the hell would you buy that much?”
“Wanted the feel of clutching a bottle, but without the alcohol. There’s something so . . . poetic about clutching a bottle when dealing with heartache.”
Breaker stands over me, bottle dangling from his fingers. “You know, bro, I think you’ve hit rock bottom.”
I turn again, now looking up toward the ceiling. I pinch my brow and say, “That would be an accurate description.”
“Have you made any donations lately? I know that’s your MO when you’re sad.”
I slowly swallow and say, “The pigeon shelter I’ve been supporting is now renaming its building the JP Cane Pigeon Rescue. The JPCPR. Has a fucking great ring to it. There’s some press going out next week about it. They asked if I’d show up for the dedication of the new name, and do you know how pathetic I am?”
“Tell me.” Breaker takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me.
“I told them I’d be honored, but only on one condition.” I sit up. “I asked that Kazoo be invited so I could meet him.”
“Dude—”
“That’s not the worst of it.” I look my brother dead in the eyes and say, “I commissioned some lady on Etsy to make matching a shirt and bow tie set, one that would fit me and one that would fit a pigeon . . . out of Kazoo fabric.”
“Oh fuck . . . JP.”
“I know.” I slowly nod my head. “I fucking know. Rock bottom. But the only thing that’s getting me to keep moving forward is the idea that I could take a picture with Kazoo in our matching shirts. I actually giggled at one point thinking about it.”
“Giggled?” Breaker’s eyes widen. “Come on, man. We need to get you up, showered, back to the office, back to a routine.”
“I paid extra for a rush fee. I also looked into classes on how to communicate with the pigeons. You can train them to deliver messages. I was thinking about writing a love letter to Kelsey and having a pigeon deliver it to her. Isn’t that romantic?”
Breaker stares blankly at me. “No, man. No, it’s not. It’s fucking creepy. You realize pigeons are better known as the rat of the sky?”
I pop off the couch so fast, Breaker falls back on the coffee table. “You know, that’s exactly what an uneducated nitwit would say. Did you know that pigeons are actually intelligent and complex? They’re one of the only animals on the planet to pass the mirror test. Meaning, you stick a mirror in front of them and they fucking know they’re looking at their reflection. Are rats passing that test? No, they’re just sitting there, in creepy holes, gnawing at their nuts until they can find something better to chew on.”
“Okay, sorry I mentioned it.”
“Also, there’s very little scientific evidence that pigeons carry diseases. And contrary to what’s blasted all over the media, pigeons are quite clean animals.”
“I’m not sure pigeons are being blasted on the media.”
“And you know what?” Hands on my hips, irritation roaring through me, I say, “Pigeons mate for life. They meet their one and only, and they’re set.” My voice grows scratchy as I think about Kelsey. “They don’t need to second-guess their decision. They just . . . know.”
“JP, are you okay?”
I sniff. “They understand that the feathered beauty in front of them is for them and them alone.” I wipe at my nose. “They mate, they have two chicks, and they spend the rest of their years, feather in feather, like hand in hand, flying off into the sunset.”
“I think we need to get you out of here.”
I swipe at my eyes. “That’s what I need to do. I need to ask Kelsey to be my pigeon.” Frantically, I look around for my phone. “I need to text her.”
Breaker grips my arm. “That’s not a good idea. She won’t understand.”
“Then I’ll explain it to her,” I say, feeling my expression go slightly crazy. “I’ll send her a video, telling her all about pigeon mating rituals.”
“Dude, really bad idea, especially with the way you look right now.”
“I’ll show her a video. I found this really great one about how pigeons communicate. It made me think of her, especially since one of the pigeons it focused on had some gold feathers on its neck. It reminded me of Kelsey’s eyes. In my head, I named it Kelsey and—”