Pink Flamingoed by Steve Demaree

night
before, it tasted just as good. Brad and Amy had an enjoyable Saturday night
dinner and some pleasant conversation. Each learned some things about the
other, until the conversation changed to the next day.
    “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you what time church
starts.”
    “It starts at 10:30. Right?”
    “Yes, but how did you know?”
    “I noticed it on the sign in front of the church. You
see, I’m an observant Christmas caroler. One has to be because sometimes one’s
tour guide forgets to give all of the necessary information.”
    Amy took her cloth napkin, wadded it up and fired it
at the man sitting across from her, who fired his back at her.
    “A fine way to treat your hostess!” Amy said smiling,
but doing her best to act indignant.
    “And a fine way to treat your guest!” Brad shot back,
before erupting in laughter.

Sunday
     
     
    Sunday arrived, the start of Brad’s second full day on
Aylesford Place. It was The Lord’s Day, but then to Brad every day was the
Lord ’s Day. It was just that this day was set aside by some to gather with
other believers and spend time worshipping together. Brad arose early, excited
to see his new neighbors again, especially one of his new neighbors. He
showered, dressed, ate breakfast, and went to call on Amy to escort her to church.
    “I’m almost ready,” Amy said as she opened the door
and smiled at the blond-headed man who faced her. “I’ll just be a minute.
Please step in while I put on my boots and get my purse and coat.”
    Amy’s long auburn hair sashayed across her shoulders
as she turned. Brad could not take his eyes off her as he watched her bare feet
ascending the steps to the second floor. Once again, he was impressed, but he
felt she looked even better as she descended those same steps.
    “Do you want to walk or drive?”
    “Oh, everyone on the street walks, except Barney and
Bertha. Barney always drops by and picks up Bertha. We save our parking spaces
for those who don’t live on Aylesford Place.”
    “Then walk it is,” Brad said as he took Amy by the arm
and escorted her down the front porch steps, as they watched their breaths go
before them.            
    Amy smiled at Brad and Brad smiled back. As they
turned to walk down the street, Brad opened up.
    “On the left you have one of many three-story red
brick homes in our beautiful neighborhood. This particular home is occupied by
that incredibly gifted, wealthy author of whodunits, Brad Forrester, formerly
known as Brad Patterson. Mr. Forrester has one wife and four children, but is
terribly ashamed of all of them, and so he decided to leave them behind when he
moved to Aylesford Place.”
    Without breaking stride, Brad continued to entertain
as the two of them walked to church.
    “Our next stop will be the home of Harry and Ethel
somebody. Harry has lots of money, which he keeps to himself, and he is not
smart enough to keep his mouth shut while in the presence of Mrs. Cora
Henderson. Next, we have the home Mr. and Mrs. Birdbath, who have migrated to Florida for the winter. Maybe they’ll come home in the spring, but if Mr. and Mrs. Swallow
do not return to Capistrano, we will not sing to them next Christmas.”
    Brad ushered Amy along with his left arm, so that he
could match the commentary with each house as they walked by it.
    “Moving right along, we have the home of Pastor
somebody or another. Pastor somebody has only one wife, but has three children,
the oldest of whom is the smartest because she likes to read books.”
    Amy could not control her laughter.
    As Brad and Amy neared the church, Brad took a peek at
the sign out front and continued.
    “Oh, yes, Pastor somebody has changed his name to
Scott Armbruster. Pastor Armbruster still has one wife and three children, none
of which he left behind when he moved here.”
    Brad was on a roll and continued to walk past the
church.
    “Hey, where are you taking me?” Amy asked.
    “I haven’t finished, fair