“Hi God, it's me Rosa. I just want to say thank you for this day and the pretty, pretty weather. Dear God, thank you for my family and especially my daddy. I love you and I hope that you can help me be a better person tomorrow and not get so fussy OK? Love you. Night, night, bye, oh yes and Amen.”

Sybil cleared her throat. George who was as usual listening at Rosa’s bedroom door, turned and smiled at his wife and put his wing up to his beak. “Shh,” he said quietly, “Rosa might hear you.”

Sybil huffed and walked back out on the deck. George, believing he had made another in a long line of marital mistakes, walked outside to join his wife. He had heard Rosa turn out her light and even though he liked staying there for a few more seconds, while she sang a song of her own making idolising of her father, George needed to make things better with his wife.

Sybil was hanging over the railings idly watching some seagulls combat a blue crab that had lost its way. She imagined for a brief second that she was watching one of those old movies starring Victor Mature or Kirk Douglas like Quo Vadis and sighed. George heard her sigh. Sybil did not hear George walk out and stand a few feet behind her. He was about to put his wings around her and maybe give her a peck, together with asking her if she would like one of those gins and tonic which had made her fall in love with him, when he heard her say, “I wish I were married to a man who would say prayers worshipping me!”

George took a step backwards realising that Sybil was probably thinking about that over muscled, gym loving vulture, who had delivered their food from Brooklyn or was it Long Island he couldn’t remember, but it made no difference. He needed to snap his wife out of her little fantasy.

“The only thing that dope worshipped was himself! He probably says his prayers, if indeed he does pray, in front of a mirror before going to bed.” Sybil jumped. She regrouped and turned to face her husband.

“Can you believe those seagulls are trying to fight a blue crab?” George walked over and stood next to Sybil and looked down.

“Maybe you should invite your vulture friend to come down and take those seagulls out!” “How awful,” she replied. “He would….” and there she stopped upon seeing the smirk on George’s face. “I know what,” she needed to regroup again and re-engage with George. After all, George wasn’t fantasying about another bird, it was their 7 year old daughter. Their, being the operative word.

“Why don’t you listen in to either Julia’s or Timmy’s prayers every evening why only Rosa’s?” George struggled to come up with an answer. He knew Sybil was right. When they were Rosa’s age, he didn’t listen outside their door while they said their prayers.

“I think Julia was much more of a mummy’s girl than Rosa is, and as for Timmy, well, if I’ve ever seen a mummy’s boy that’s him.”

Sybil tried for a rebuttal but knew her husband was right. Ever since Rosa was hatched, the first word out of her mouth wasn’t mummy like the others, but daddy which caused Sybil to have immediate buyer’s remorse.

George looked after Rosa while Sybil turned her attention to become a clothing designer, something he felt she would be good at, but after giving it a halfhearted try, she gave up much to the dismay of the others.

Sybil then turned her attention to making quilts, which she was going to sell on the internet with Julia’s help, but that too fizzled. And now Sybil has decided to become an author, with much encouragement from her entire family hoping they will accompany her to Stockholm when she wins a Nobel Prize.

And through all this, Rosa remained her daddy’s ‘little girl.’ In George’s eyes, much to the dismay of Sybil, Timmy and Julia, Rosa could do no wrong. “At 5, she doesn’t know the difference between right and wrong,” he told Sybil, but that has continued now that she’s 7. “But,” pleaded Sybil, “she has to learn that because she wants ice cream you can’t just drop everything and run to Surf City and get her ice cream.”

“It’s not a big deal!’ George had argued but the other three didn’t agree. And they were correct. He would not jump out of his chair for either Julia or Timmy.

Over the past few months George had slowly begun to realise that maybe it was time he changed things and treated Rosa the same way he treated his other two children. “So, how about one of my gins and tonic?”

“We don’t have any tonic water,” replied Sybil who for a brief second got excited.

“I can go and get some!” and without waiting for her reply, George flew out of the nest, only to return a few minutes later with a bottle of Schweppes tonic water.

“Where did you get that?” she asked believing there was nowhere within flying distance that carried that brand. They all carried Canada Dry which George would never use, and Sybil because of the English background, would never dream of having in the nest.

“The Tikki Bar!” he replied grinning from ear to ear.

“I didn’t know they sold that.”
“They do, but I didn’t pay for it,” he replied, “I flew in and flew out and no one noticed. They have the lights on so low in there.”

“That’s because they like to have that mystical feeling, at least that’s what Jeremy says.”

“How does he know?”

“He goes there all the time!”

“With Elizabeth?”

“Hell no! Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Sybil giggled, he goes there by himself. Anyway, do we have gin?”

“We always have gin.”

“Tanqueray?”

“Tanqueray.” And soon the two love birds were sitting on their respective lounge chairs holding large glasses of gin and tonic in their wings, reminiscing about the old days on the Jersey shore. That was until they heard Rosa cry out first Mummy and then Daddy. George was hurt. Sybil smirked.

“I believe out littlest is calling for me.” George closed his eyes, why me he thought. A few moments later, Sybil returned. “It’s you she wants,”

George jumped up and then slowly sat down again, “why what is it she wants?”

“A drink of water.”

“Do you think she would know the difference between water and a gin and tonic?”
“Don’t you dare!” replied Sybil and then giggled. She was getting plastered. “Did I tell you my parents are coming down to Top Sail in two weeks for their summer vacation?”

George froze. “Why here?”

“Because I thought it would be a good for them to meet their youngest grandchild.”

 “That’s right. They haven’t been here for about 8 years.”

“10,” replied Sybil taking a large gulp.

George’s shoulders drooped as he walked into Rosa’s bedroom. “Your grandparents are coming in two weeks,” Sybil heard George tell Rosa.

“Should I include them in my prayers daddy?”

“Do you now?” he asked.

 “No, I do not,” she replied.

 “Then I wouldn’t.”