Page 49 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
Miraculously calm, considering the circumstances. That’s what she loved about her friends. They welcomed anybody.
Larkin, Thalia’s older cousin, hadn’t been bitten by the old soul bug. She captured and edited tons of videos for her social media presence. In fact, Skye’s parents lent Larkin ongoingtips on staying consistent. In her expensive untucked button-down, straight slacks, and braids bandied back, her quest for androgynous techie chic had been achieved. This also set up Larkin to snap pictures of Skye and Celene in their couple-y rouse.Thatwould be a funny outing to look back at years from now.
Or would it? Skye eyed the toast pun t-shirt stand, rerouting her disappointment for later.
Her new girlfriend’s impression on the group started fairly shaky. They reached the carnival game section, the closest booth stuffed with rows of glittery plastic trophies in primary colors. June went full exuberant puppy, naming which activities she’d beat everyone in. She threw an invitation to Celene, an opportunity to participate in the milk bottle knockdown.
Celene cast a critical eye on the bulky prizes, aloof as she’d carried herself at Luce’s shop. Channeling her frostbite setting, she muttered, “Superfluous, disposable clutter. Pass.”
Her influence had them mumble they’d play it later, maybe. Zinnia, who’d speak her dissent any other day, kept her cool. She was in on this charade. Charades didn’t involve going head-to-head with the snooty fake girlfriend.
Skye pondered if she could broach the reality word, dragging her feet. Her crew moved on to window shop in the artisan alley. The temperature of their outing had gone lukewarm, and that sank in the pit of Skye’s stomach. June met her eyes twice, offering a reassuring smile each time.
They soon gathered at Luce’s booth, a glimmer in the awkwardness for an energetic chat with Luce and Zander. Taking advantage of her friends huddled around, Skye drew Celene aside, lightly by the arm.
“How can I help you…have a better time?” Skye tried, hoping her face didn’t project her distress. “Everyone’s bummed out.”
“Those prizes were atrocious,” Celene replied steadily. It hinted some indignation, too. “I didn’t sign up to bring plastic garbage home. I’m selling, not accumulating.”
“If my friends speak badly about you, Luce will listen.”
Celene closed her eyes. Collecting herself? Staving anger? She blew out a breath in practiced slowness. “Fine. Can we eat something?”
“Sure. Makes no sense attending the Toast Festival without sampling our town’s bread.”
Everyone else at the booth contributed to a debate—about mortar, of all things—so Skye trotted off on her own. The festival’s selection grew year after year, but she knew her way around for the most part. She jogged to the bread-on-a-stick booth with the best branding and presentation; she sensed those things meant as much to Celene as the flavor. Unshockingly, that was Yielding Bread, descended from their founder. The line moved efficiently, meaning she came back without her friends noticing.
Skye offered two skewers. The bestseller, a freshly baked buttered ciabatta, and a spiraled French toast twinkling with sugar crystals. “Which one?”
Celene took two seconds to pluck the French toast from her hand. Before biting, she said, “Thank you. I’ll buy our next thing.”
“You don’t have to,” Skye mumbled, relieved to earn a smile. “Want to try this one, too?”
They took turns biting into both breads, marveling at the flavors until their friends waved Skye’s grandmother goodbye. As they walked on, Luce gave Skye an OK sign—an endorsement.
Skye hadn’t been putting on a show for her sake, yet it pleased her all the same.
Forty minutes later, they’d regained their groove, stopping for avocado crostini and fizzy drinks between chats over artsytrinkets. Larkin had swiped her card for a mosaic grilled cheese combination from Luce’s and spent time shooting angles of it until she caught up with them.
Pearls -N- Promises Jewelry, their current stop, was a community fixture, never mind that Pearl Hammond and Luce were once rivals. Years of competing acclaim later, Luce certainly won the overall war between them, and now, they tolerated each other. And with their beef squashed, Skye could skim the handcrafted products without Luce complaining.
“Remember these, Skye?” Thalia summoned her, eagerly waving. She wore a pastel blue wig today; it swished as she tapped one of the spinning glass displays on the hexagonal tables.
Skye smiled, though she had to force it for her friend. A small bread slice pendant hung from a display hook, in white gold. As precious as all her crafts, Pearl fused a swirled purple stone upon it, fashioned like a spread of jelly.
Pearl made these pendants every few years, priding herself a ‘mood creator.’ Skye’s last girlfriend had joined them for a past Toast Festival, and Skye had been set on buying one, but that was a year Pearl skipped. Just as well, since that partnership didn’t last. It would’ve tarnished the memory and the accessory itself.
“That’s sugilite,” Thalia whispered of the stone, like anyone could overhear and trample them for it. “I almost never see it. Its transformative energy boosts emotional healing and protects you from, um, negativity in relationships.”
Skye listened, conscious not to react too strongly.
Thalia’s voice fell so low, Skye had to lean in. “It’s called a love stone. I’m talking intuitive, spiritual love. Soulmate connections.” Her dark eyebrows lifted to a blue hairline. “Pair sugilite with your labradorite and hot damn, you’re manifesting deep, unconditional love.”
All based on falsities. Skye didn’t need to convince Thalia to move on, as its price tag couldn’t be overlooked. Saved by inflation. Leaving Skye behind with a soft hand pat, Thalia crept off to dig through the jars of tumbled stones.
The pendant was delicate and beautiful, a feat for something bread-shaped. Skye released a long breath. Letting Thalia in on their fake dating would’ve spared her that hopeful speech.
And she let her mind drift for a minute or two. Nothing too much. Alas, when she smelled that distinct, stinging perfume, she knew who’d shown up.
