The Real Macaw: A Meg Langslow Mystery

several of the bedrooms tidy and gleaming again, I felt much calmer. Especially after Cousin Festus called and promised he wouldn’t wait for Monday to start finding out exactly who had designs on our property.
    “As it happens, I’m down in Yorktown right now, visiting Mom and Dad. Would you like me to run up to Caerphilly tomorrow to strategize about this?”
    “That would be excellent,” I said.
    I strode downstairs feeling reinvigorated and determined. Mother was sitting at the kitchen table, looking poised and elegant as usual. She was supervising as Rose Noire and one of the other Corsicans made more sandwiches.
    “But the barn is so … dirty,” Mother was saying. “Should the boys really be spending so much time out there?”
    “It’s all right,” Rose Noire said over one shoulder. “Studies have shown that children raised in an environment with at least one animal have better immune systems and a lower incidence of asthma.”
    “Great,” I said. “The boys will grow up healthy as horses with this menagerie around. Even in the short term,” I added, lest anyone think I was volunteering our barn for long-term animal shelter duty.
    “What’s wrong, dear?” Mother asked. “You look pale. Do you need an aspirin?”
    “I’m fine,” I said. “Hungry, but fine.”
    Rose Noire took the hint and handed me a ham sandwich.
    “Thanks.” I took an enormous bite and closed my eyes to savor it.
    “You still look stressed,” Mother said.
    Luckily chewing allowed me time to think about my answer. Should I tell her about the surveyors? Perhaps better to wait until I heard what Cousin Festus could learn. Ask her if she thought the place looked blighted? She’d probably use my question as an excuse to foist off some new furniture on us.
    But then an idea struck me.
    “Mother,” I said. “I have a decorating project for you.”
    She blinked slightly and peered at me as if suddenly unsure who I was.
    “You’re not interested?” I asked.
    “Of course I’m interested, dear,” she said. “I’m just rather surprised. Normally I have to nag you to take an interest in your home.”
    “Well, I’m taking an interest now. Let me show you.”
    I led her out onto the back porch. It was large for a back porch, six feet by twelve feet, and largely empty.
    “Yes,” she said, recovering enough to look around with something more resembling her usual critical eye. “Yes, there’s a lot we need to—er, could do here. You want me to tackle the deck?”
    I glanced around. I wouldn’t have called it a deck. It was a plain slab of concrete. I’d just have said stoop instead of porch if it hadn’t been so large. But if Mother thought “deck” a more elegant term, who was I to argue?
    “Yes, the deck to start with,” I said. “But why stop there? We need to do something about the whole yard.”
    I spread my arms wide as if embracing the space, then strode toward the side yard.
    “The yard? But that’s really landscaping.”
    “Outdoor decorating,” I said, as I rounded the corner of the house and headed for the front yard. I was trying to see my surroundings through unfriendly eyes and finding more and more to wince at. “You’re always saying how important the foyer is, that it gives your guests their first view of the house. Well, that’s not quite accurate. Before they get to the foyer, they have to walk down the front walk, through the yard. And look at it!”
    I was striding through the front yard by now, with Mother close behind. I stopped to survey my surroundings. So did she. She was still a little taken aback.
    “When you come down to it, it’s the largest space of all,” I said. “And it’s virtually untouched. We need to deal with those overgrown hedges in the front yard. Plant something along the front walk. Maybe replace the front walk with something nicer. And don’t forget the backyard. All these sheds and outbuildings look so junky. We need to spruce them up or get rid of them! Move some of them to better locations so they don’t block the view.”
    “We could do that.” She still sounded dubious.
    “We need an outdoor foyer in the front yard! An outdoor dining room there!” I gestured toward the side yard. “An outdoor living room … somewhere! An outdoor playroom for the boys! And the pool—it needs to be an outdoor party space. A safe, kid-friendly outdoor party space.”
    “Yes,” she said. The word “room” seemed to revive her spirits. “Yes. This