Page 111 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
Rolling the smooth moonstone between her fingers, Skye tried not to sigh as swooningly as she wanted. They hadn’t revisited yesterday’s confessions about marriage, though it’d be dicey to go much deeper than that.
June and Zinnia enthusiastically agreed on vanilla bean and roasted peach cake, the final of the five. It scored well with Skye and Celene, too. And, selfishly, it left their favorite to themselves, to a fictional—or rather, future—wedding Celene spoke of with conviction.
A future wedding meant commitment.
A future wedding meantlove.
Skye reflected on this as she gazed out her passenger window. She could always fall into her imagination, of tiptoeing down each leaf of the maple near them like raindrops, growing lighter and sparser as the minutes passed.
The trembling leaves reminded Skye of her Forever Fuchsia. She missed working on it.
Hm. Maybe...
Maybe she could set something up in the Vale house? After showing her parents her hideaway workspace, it’d be easier to safely move her projects out in the open. And, by extension, where Celene could see her in action. Not to be too cheesy, but that house on Goldfinch Lane became their love nest. A nickname she kept to herself, a private piece of satisfaction.
Especially now that she knew how her and Celene’s reception would taste—like baked blueberries with notes of jasmine and lemon zest.
She waited until the maple no longer flickered from rain to reach out a pointer finger, wobbling Celene’s book to get her attention. “Hey.”
But what met Skye stunned her, and she couldn’t hide it. Mouth hinging loose, she gaped at Celene hastily wiping under her eyes, looking away.
Skye recognized those dark lashes bunched like triangles. She’d been crying. Her girlfrienddidget affected by her reading choices.
They stayed like this for a minute. Celene drying her cheeks, and Skye seeing her for what she was: sensitive.
But Skye refrained from making a fuss. No matter how it ratcheted her protective side, a desire to tell Celene her emotions were beautiful. Instead, she held Celene’s forearm, saying, “Swimming lost its appeal, even if the rain stopped. Want to go home?”
Shit.Home. She’d gotten too comfortable staying over.
Celene let Skye off the hook. Even if Skye spotted her gaze twitch around her face intently, absorbing her words. “Sure. I enjoyed this.”
“Me, too,” Skye admitted, buckling her seatbelt. “Daydreaming’s more vivid when it’s cloudy like this.”
“You were staring at that tree.”
To this day, it startled Skye to know how often Celene kept an eye on her. Rather than past acquaintances who’d ignored or forgotten someone who could go silent for hours at a time, Celene gave the impression of an admirer. “I was, yeah.”
“Speaking of,” Celene mentioned as she pulled out of the parking lot, navigating the streets without questioning which turn to make. “Where we first met. You told me our tree’s gone now, but...” This topic raised the skin on the back of Skye’s neck. “Could you show me where it was? My memories are fuzzy.”
“Of course. It’s on Whitetail Circle, midway between our houses.”
“Should we visit? For nostalgia’s sake.”
“I’d love that, yes.”
Wasn’t the only thing Skye loved.
Rearranging her bangs, elbow propped on the door, Skye pondered aloud. “Before you came back into town this time, I’d hunted through Luce’s old boxes for any pictures of us as kids and came up empty.”
“Pre-smartphone days were weird. You’d have stacks of photos from some forgettable day at the DMV, then nothing of notable vacations. They could’ve easily been lost.” Celene’s voice grew soft as she revealed, “I’ve looked for photos of us, too. No luck.”
“What a shame.”
“The only proof of our past is our memories of each other.” Celene pinned her with another glance, pensive this time. “Kind of romantic, I suppose.”
Skye let herself swoon, regardless of the disappointment. “Right. A dream.”
Celene’sfirst view of Skye Florentine was the bottom of her shoes. Then, Skye’s head popped out, long beaded hair clattering against her bright, albeit unsure smile. Celene couldn’t remember minute details, though she recalled the shock of finding another kid in the middle of what seemed to be nowhere. Triply so to be allowed to climb trees. Tree climbing seemed so forbidden and alien.
