Page 23 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
“Oh, that’s touching. Is Yielding making you soft?”
“I’ll be out. Dad must’ve stuffed a thousand menus in a kitchen drawer. Order away.”
Elise had already begun rummaging. “Should we save you anything?”
If it were up to Celene, she’d stay out all night and avoid Elise’s walks down memory lane. “I don’t care. Also,” she waved to her visitors’ bags strewn in the middle of the living room, “I sleep in the primary. You and Ajay take any of the other rooms.”
“Those beds are only full-size!”
She should offer them the weirdly-shaped blue room with too many windows. Just to irritate Elise. “The mattresses are new. We can replace one with a queen, but until then, you’ll be close and personal. Happy babymaking.”
“Celene, seriously.”
“I sent you a blueprint showing where I’d like the cameras installed. Show Ajay.” She shot a sharp look at Elise. “I mean it. Don’t touch the primary.”
And she slammed the tacky door on Elise, who’d shouted back, “But we’remarried!”
With an hour leftuntil Luce’s Mosaic Wonderland closed, Skye hadn’t bounced back from her morning. Usually, she drifted through her cinematic dreams in deliberate lucidity, diverging from all potential nightmares.
She’d mastered this as a child—one who loved sleep, never fought a bedtime. Skye would experience mystical splendors—speak to the mountains and get answers, turn the sky gold, swim to the ocean floor—and wake up buzzing with adventure.
Last night, every turn of her dream brought darkness. Not the calm, peaceful darkness that lulled her through calm fantasies. Ominous fog masked gray, looming figures. Skye struggled to run like her feet were tied to cinder blocks, her cries gagged by an invisible force. Her sole recourse was waking herself, gasping, drenched in sweat. Only for the same dream to follow her when she nodded off again.
Luce had been in rare form, fussing at her for dragging her feet to tape the proper delivery printouts on three orders. Skye generally enjoyed her job, so she drove with visions of wind chimes and Thalia’s bright energy on her mind.
Except Skye detoured onto Celene’s street. Big mistake.
There, she saw Celene standing on the deck with a rather tall South Asian guy. His license plate and attire didn’t give the impression of a Yielding contractor. Celene was speaking to him intently, like they were familiar. A pretty striking couple, if Skye were to put one and one together.
Well, now she could leave Celene and her cool-to-colder attitude behind her.
Bagging a five-by-five-inch relief, Skye’s fingers tingled to grasp her labradorite. Thalia called out of work that day, andher usual backup, Zander, couldn’t make it on such short notice. Monday hadn’t been the busiest, but doing everything by herself all day wasn’t ideal.
June came by not long after 2 p.m. to watch Luce’s while Skye ran downstairs for lunch, buying June a pepperoni slice.
A little fuchsia miscommunication couldn’t hurt their friendship. All in the past.
“Thanks for hanging out with me today.” Skye sighed, pushing at her oversized sleeves. “Hope your aunt isn’t too perturbed.”
Gertrude was always perturbed at the helm of a prosperous operation. Skye wouldn’t want any of that annoyance floating her way.
June shrugged shoulders less red than last week. “My perk is disappearing for hours. As long as the work gets done, she doesn’t hound me. Family businesses, right?”
Skye understood completely. Tilting in her cashier stool, she collected a white paper bag from under the counter. She’d been so preoccupied; she ended up eating the foraged blueberries before she could bake them into anything. Instead, she offered, “Two raspberry muffins. I baked them yesterday.”
“I knew I smelled something sweet.” June unfolded the bag and huffed, releasing a redolent burst of butter and brown sugar. “Hoo, heaven.”
“Give one to Miss Gertrude. She loves muffins.”
“Of course, and I’ll split the other with Zini. Get this—she told me she would’ve tried marrying you if she’d known you baked.”
They laughed; that was a complete lie. Skye had been right there a year and a half ago, when Zinnia first made eyes with June at the crowded farmer’s market two towns away. She could’ve stood butt naked, covered in muffin crumbs and neither of them would’ve spared a glance.
“Don’t let pastries break you up. I’d never bake again.”
“Sad. We’d all suffer.” June rested her long arms on the counter as she rocked on the balls of her feet, staring at one of Luce’s most sizable mosaics mounted above the checkout section: the greens and tans and dark blues of the Poconos Mountains under a pink sky. “You’ve been back in Yielding for years. Are you open to dating? Love? I mean...” She thumped the bag with her knuckles. “I’m sure someone out there would appreciate homemade goods like these, not that my family and I don’t love them.”
Skye blinked long lashes, her smile fading. “I’m open to love.”
