Page 133 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
“I think you punish me for not fitting your expectations,” Celene said, effectively silencing Elise’s attempts at defense. “No, I won’t toast beers and laugh at your unfunny jokes. It’s not in my nature to call you to shoot the breeze. If you know I’ve been like this forever, then why won’t you acclimate to that?” She held her hand up so Elise wouldn’t get chattering again; it wasn’t helping, though she loved the effort. “Elise pointed out how cold I’d been to Quinn as our relationship dissolved. Her delivery could’ve used work, but she’s not wrong—I’d been punishing Quinn for not loving me. I take responsibility; however, this attitude didn’t come out of nowhere.”
“Hold on. I hope you’re not about to therapy talk me into blame here,” Byron countered, voice suspiciously close to a growl.
“Like I said, I own up to my failures there. To really grow, finding the source of my issues is tantamount.” Celene chewed at her lip, imagining Skye’s warm smile, how, at Celene’s angriest, she didn’t look at her like a monster. “I’m...I’m actually happy to have the deed to the house.”
Byron scowled, and this close, she could see that a couple of his eyelashes were gray. “Then why in the hell are you coming for me like this?”
“Because a gift doesn’t erase how you misunderstand me.” Celene blinked at Elise, who’d become a spectator, pushing Ariel Red hair behind her shoulder. She faced Byron again. “I’m expected to work to be seen as a whole member of the family. And don’t you deny it—” Her pointer shot up. “Bri told me herself. You and Mom worry that I’ve been single for too long. That doesn’t comfort me; it makes me want to keep my romantic life far, far away from you. I’m being talked about behind my back.”
“We don’t want you to be alone.”
“It’s okay if I was,” Celene stressed, eyes softening. “I was single when I packed a bag on a whim and drove to the Poconos. And single as I began cataloguing all of the problems with the Vale house. By myself.”
“She’s got her own life, too, Dad.” Elise, thankfully, spoke at a normal speed now. “Celene hates bugs. And physical labor—just like me. She does these things because she loves us.”
Byron glanced at the office’s shutoff computer monitor, the sports-themed posters on the wall. His white dad sneakers below. “It’s not the easiest thing for a parent to say they’re uh...intimidated by their child. I should’ve put more effort into giving you the deed myself and telling you why.”
Elise’s feet started tapping and hadn’t stopped. “Well?”
“I’m not as unaware as you think.” Byron let that settle, eyeing his daughters. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Celene, I won’t say I punished you, but you’re right. Youaredifferent. I didn’t know how to work with that when you were a child, and I’m even more uninformed now. I saw you weren’t engaging in our summer plans in Yielding withus. You spent more daylight out with Skye.”
The memory of Skye ticked on a smile Celene wasn’t sure Byron deserved yet. She waited for him to continue.
“I…I’m sorry for that. I should’ve tried harder.” He coughed once into his elbow, then sniffed. “This isn’t a gift out of guilt, or because you may have a future with Skye. It’s so you’ll reconnect in your own way, without any of us messing it up.”
“Do you mean that?”
“I do,” he emphasized. Visibly slouched, tired. “Single, not single, forthcoming, not forthcoming—I’m leaving the house in your hands. This is a present from your dad, who couldn’t maintain it himself.” Peeking at Elise, who didn’t resort to fussing at him again, he made direct eye contact with Celene and held out his hand. “You accept it?”
Celene had plateaued after all that, primed to crash. This would have to suffice. She shook his hand firmly. “Yes, I accept.”
Parents were a strange concept.
Parents of your partner were an even stranger concept.
Skye stole glances at Edna Vale’s sharply cut profile, accounting for similarities between her and Celene.
Genetically, half of Celene’s DNA came from her mother. Yet, to Skye, it made little sense to apply that to the whole ofa human, especially years past their birth. Every person carried about—Skye smiled at a moth hiking up the chain-link of the porch swing—thirty percent of their parents, combined. The rest consisted of life experiences, exchanges with the world, and their environment.
Thus, while it’d be easy to wholly attribute Celene’s demeanor to a parent, Edna represented an incomplete piece. Like when Skye organized mosaic chips—two tiles may share swirls of the same color, but ultimately, they’d be perceived separately, individually. Their own unique inspiration to artists and admirers.
Skye’s heels scraped the white wooden panels of the porch. Two scooters propped on either side of the steps, and crayon drawings on a post; the Vales probably hadn’t gotten a chance to wash it off. This house differed from Cosmo and Soraya’s two-story just outside Detroit, yet it exuded the same nostalgic atmosphere of never-ending activity.
She’d made a mistake taking the opposite end of the swing with Edna. A person or two could fit between them, and it still felt too intimate. Like they shouldn’t have been breathing the same oxygen.
Skye noted Edna’s hands tightening on a mug dotted with mini pineapples. An empty mug. They’d been sitting out there for that long once their general chat about dinner trailed off.
Maybe Skye zoned out at a point, failing some sort of test to keep the conversation alive.
“Um, so,” Skye murmured, voice two notches above a whisper. “It’s nice to meet the family. Everyone’s been great.”
Edna nodded—more to her knees than at Skye before turning toward her. “I meant no harm earlier. If I’d been prying.”
Skye accepted this with a smile. Pressing hair behind her ear, she said, “I expected more of a grilling, considering how Celene’s engagement ended.”
“I want to grill you. I do.” The wryness on Edna’s face didn’t mirror Celene’s; this one had softer edges and a dose of self-deprecation. “Many parents raise their children to be autonomous. And Celene reflected that early on. Personally, I loved her coming into her own so soon, but it made raising her a little too easy. Do you understand?”
Not a mother herself, Skye shrugged out an honest, “Not really.”
