Chapter five

Pat stretched her long legs out in the hammock and closed her eyes. It was cool in the shade and the breeze off of the bay kept most of the mosquitoes away. She suddenly slapped hard against her face.

" Bastard, " she murmured.

A quick nap, lunch with Aunt Rachel, a trip to Corpus to drop off the film she'd shot yesterday, then an early dinner. Maybe the Shrimp Shack tonight. Angel would be bartending. At least she'd have a female to talk to instead of the usual guys.

She sighed, willing sleep to come. She moved one leg to the ground and set the hammock in motion again. It was a warm day for April. She should really take advantage of it and be out looking for nests, not trying to sleep in a damn hammock. But she was still pissed off at Mrs. Davenport. Oh well, she could always just go to the Wildlife Refuge and bug the staff there to show her some nesting sites. She needed at least ten. So far, she had four.

She opened one eye when she heard the car approach. Her aunt. Guess the Curlews were safe again.

" Pat? "

" Out here, " she called back. She rolled her head and watched her aunt, still decked out in her birdwatching getup, walk across the lawn towards her.

" Oh my, it's warm today, isn't it? "

" It's hot."

" I thought we could have lunch on the veranda, but I think we should choose the shaded deck in the back. I had Alice fix us up something nice."

Pat finally sat up and swung both legs over the side of the hammock. She pulled her cap off and shook out her hair, then tilted her head at her aunt.

" You haven't invited me to lunch in two years."

" Nonsense. You eat here all the time."

" I eat here if I happen to drop by during mealtime. Now, what's going on? You've got something up your sleeve, " Pat accused.

Her aunt had the grace to blush, but lifted her chin in defiance. " Can't I simply invite my favorite niece over for lunch? " she asked as she turned and headed back to the house.

" Uh-huh, " Pat murmured but dutifully followed after her.

She went into the house just long enough to wash up and steal a beer from the fridge. Her aunt was already waiting on the back deck.

" A beer? We have tea, " her aunt offered.

" No, thanks, " Pat said as she tipped up the bottle.

" Oh, hell. Alice, " she called. " Bring me a Tom Collins." She turned to Pat and grinned. " You are a terrible influence on me."

" Yeah, well, we'll blame it on our upbringing, " she said.

" You can hardly blame the Catholic Church for your drinking habits. God knows you blame it for everything else."

" Speaking of that, have you heard from them lately? "

" Your father called me at Easter. I'm sure it eased his conscience somewhat, being a religious holiday and all." She hesitated before continuing. " He did inquire about you."

" That's nice, " Pat said.

" Well, the conversation was short, anyway. I'm sure he was just making sure I was still alive."

" Checking on his inheritance, no doubt."

Her aunt snorted. " As if he'll be mentioned in the will. And it's not like he needs any more money." Aunt Rachel reached out and grasped Pat's hand. " Speaking of money, why haven't you cashed the last few checks I've given you? "

Pat shrugged. " I don't need any money, Aunt Rachel. I've told you that."

" That's not the point and you know it. It won't hurt you to pad your accounts, in case you have an emergency of some sort."

" If I have an emergency, then I'll ask you for money."

" You are so stubborn. I sometimes wonder if you're from this family at all. Money is and always will be the most important factor in the Ryan family. Your great-grandparents are probably rolling over in their graves this very moment."

Pat laughed. " I'm sure they've been rolling for awhile and it's not because of money."

Aunt Rachel laughed too. " Yes, you're probably right. I'm sure they've turned several times over my eight marriages alone. Your being gay, however, was the last straw."

Pat managed only a ghost of a smile.

Aunt Rachel reached out and grabbed her arm.

" I'm sorry, Pat. Fuck them. We've got all we need right here."

At that, Pat laughed. It was a rare occasion that Aunt Rachel used the F-word. And usually, it was during a discussion about the family.

Alice interrupted them with a Tom Collins and a fresh beer for Pat. They smiled at each other and touched glasses before drinking.

" God, I love days like this, " her aunt said. " Beautiful spring weather, sitting out here enjoying the day with you." She leaned closed and whispered, " You are my very favorite person in the world, you know that."

" You keep telling me that, although I don't know why, " Pat said.

" Your parents are total fools. They have no idea the wonderful person you are. Or how talented you are. Or that you've grown into such a beautiful woman. I pity them. They chose to see only one thing about you and they couldn't live with that one thing. Well, too bad for them. I never desired children, Pat, I've told you that before. But if I had ever had them, I would have wanted a daughter, just like you."

Pat moved her hand across the table and grasped her aunt's wrinkled fingers in hers. She gave a slight squeeze then pulled away.

" Enough of that, " Aunt Rachel said as she cleared her throat. " I'm too damn old for tears in the middle of the day. Now, I'm wondering if I should get you drunk first."

" Before what? " Pat asked warily.

" I have a rather large favor to ask you."

" Ask, " she said. " We'll decide about drinking later."

Her aunt drew up her arms and rested her elbows on the table before speaking.

" Well, since you're a local, I'm sure you know about the Habitats For Nature project."

" What? "

" Habitats For Nature, " her aunt repeated slowly.

At Pat's blank stare, Aunt Rachel slammed on hand on the table.

" Good God, woman, you make a living taking pictures of wildlife! Don't you keep up? "

" No. I go out, shoot, then I leave." At her aunt's piercing stare, Pat raised her eyebrows. " What? "

" You go out. What if there was no place to go out to? What if there weren't these wonderful projects that are trying to preserve nature? Then where would you take your pictures? "

Pat rubbed the cold beer bottle against her forehead, desperately trying to figure out where this was heading.

" Habitat For Nature, " her aunt repeated slowly. " They bought the old Thompson Ranch."

" Oh, yeah, " Pat said, finally remembering. " Up the coast from Aransas Wildlife Refuge? "

" Yes. Only the government won't have a hand in this. They have wonderful ideas, Pat. They are going to bring the marshes and wetlands back to their natural state. Can you imagine the wildlife? "

Pat stared at her, wondering when her aunt had turned into an environmentalist. For that matter, when had she started birdwatching?

" And your favor is? " Pat asked hesitantly.

" Well, I have become a contributor. A major contributor, " she added as Pat stared at her. " In fact, I've even offered some input."

" Uh-huh? "

" Well, I was hoping you would volunteer your talents to them."

" What? " Pat demanded.

" They need some promotional material and they'll need photos for the Visitor's Center. Naturally, I thought of you. I told them I was certain you'd be thrilled to donate some time to this wonderful project."

" Are you out of your mind? " Pat demanded. " People pay money for my photos. That's how I make a living. That's why I don't have to ask you for money. Because I charge people for my photographs, " she said, her voice rising slightly. " And, I don't have time. I've got six goddamned more nests to find and today was wasted because old Mrs. Davenport put it on the hotline, for Christ's sake! "

" Will you calm down? "

" You volunteered me already, didn't you? They think I've already agreed to this, don't they? "
" I may have said you'd be thrilled to do this. I mean, you do make your living out there in nature."

" Aunt Rachel, I just take pictures. I'm not really active in these things, you know? All those environmental rights people kinda make me nervous. They're strange."

" Oh, pooh, " she said. " Dr. Cambridge is one of the nicest people I've ever met. She's devoted her life to preserving nature. She's got such a passion for it, I just couldn't resist. And, because funds are very limited, they don't really have the budget to hire a photographer. So, naturally, I thought of you."

" Naturally, " Pat murmured. She leaned back in her chair and lifted her hair off of the back of her neck, letting the breeze cool her skin. And old Dr. Cambridge was probably as flighty as old Mrs. Davenport.

" I've arranged for you to meet Dr. Cambridge first thing Monday morning, on site. She'll show you around and give you some ideas on what they're looking for. Just a few nice shots for promotional material, posters, brochures, things like that. Something to send out to potential donors. And, of course, they'll need some really nice shots to display in the Visitor's Center."

Pat stared at her aunt, her eyes narrowing. " So, you've got it all arranged, do you? Just a few shots? Sure. It's not like I've got a goddamned deadline for this magazine! It's not like I've got six more nests to find! " she finished, her voice rising with each word.

But her aunt simply smiled and patted her hand.

" I knew I could count on you. And, Mrs. Davenport has agreed to show you some nests if you'll agree to show her the Curlews."

" What? " Pat demanded.

" Yes. In fact, she said there are Plovers nesting in her own yard."

Pat scowled. What the hell did Plovers look like again? Were they considered shorebirds? Damnation!