Secret Santa

As she was about to go, Floyd said, “Neil, why don’t you go on and get a picture of my big girls in the backyard? I can’t leave these little guys just now—I’m sexing ’em, and I need to do it now.”

“Sexing?” Neil’s eyebrows shot up, and Charli burst out laughing.

“He means he’s trying to detect the gender of the chicks. He’s not doing anything to them.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll go get those pictures.” Neil left them, albeit looking a little confused.

Now Floyd asked, “What’s on your mind, Charli? I guess I didn’t think you’d have anything private to say, or I would have told you Neil was coming.”

“I can come back—”

“Nope. Me and the missus are heading down to Savannah for some Christmas shopping, and we’ll probably crash at Lila’s to see the grandkids. I won’t be back for a week. Got a buddy of mine to check on the chickens for me. So? What’s on your mind? Make it quick, because Neil will be back any second.”

“Um, did you know if my dad had a lot of cash?” The tentative way she asked certainly didn’t fit in with his suggestion to “make it quick.”

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