Page 77 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
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Shadows of the night never spooked Celene. She embraced them.
Unless a dangerous human or a fucking bear caused those shadows, she wasn’t rattled. In the evening twilight, her and Skye’s shadows played behind them in distended, almost monstrous approximations. It wasn’t pitch dark like her foray to the blueberry bushes for Skye’s car keys, but it was nice knowing she could keep a keen head even then.
Celene stretched her legs upon the canvas picnic blanket. Slyly, she’d noticed Skye snapping off its price tag—she must’ve bought it for the occasion. A rather charming detail on this piece of private land by the lapping ripples of Red Clover Lake, secluded from the influx of people on such a pleasant evening. And the setting itself was upstaged by the care Skye put into packing a self-constructed veggie platter, homemade scones, and persimmon jam Luce preserved in a cute glass jar. Celene wondered how it felt to have a family so involved.
“Luce gets purchases from house stagers, and they offer freebies pretty often.” Skye had told her when she punched inthe code at the gate behind a grand two-story Craftsman. “This one permitted us to use a new construction’s backyard.”
The persimmon spread’s spiced, honey-like flavor on the scone disarmed Celene, strangely. She recalled a similar reaction to the cinnamon roll weeks ago.
Skyebakedthings. Nobody ever put so much forethought into romantic courtesy for Celene. Partially hidden beside Skye sat a small duffle she insisted on carrying herself. Anticipation woke up Celene’s lively side.
“You know, I would’ve agreed to make out in your car all evening,” Celene said, sipping carbonated water. “We’re setting the bar high, aren’t we?”
Then, Celene nearly coughed up bubbles. She’d spoken about them as a unit, just as she’d heard at Elise’s wedding reception. Except the language no longer turned her stomach or her eyes.
With a half grin, Skye passed her a napkin. “The seasonal bowls you made are unforgettable. I admire them every morning and before I go to bed. My newest ritual.”
A ritual. Like Celene tending to the fuchsia plant, now transferred to a ceramic hanging pot. Inspecting the soil, monitoring faded blooms and drainage. She’d never taken on plant pets, and now she couldn’t imagine her everyday without those vibrant, pendulous blossoms. Celene turned away with a low, “Good.” She broke a crumbly piece of scone into her mouth. “Everything’s delicious.”
Skye brought her knees to her chest, chin resting between them. And she stared with a soft smile. “You excel at guarding your expressions. It first intrigued me, and it still does.” She rearranged herself to lean toward Celene, thighs together upon the blanket. “I’m not the best at reading you or even predicting what’ll come out of your mouth, but I can tell when you’re fighting to stay stoic. You’re free to be yourself with me.”
Celene reverted to exactly that—stiffening her lip, canting her jaw upward. “I’ve been myself.”
“You have. I mean, if you’re feeling less like yourself, I’m all ears.”
“I’ll consider it,” was Celene’s best answer. Although affected by that deep, cloudless space ahead of them, already freckled with stars, it’d be fair to give more. “Fine. I’m curious what’s in your duffle bag.”
For an amusing second, Skye seemed to regret invoking more openness. In the robin-like flicks of her head, she peeked from the duffle to her own legs to Celene, restless.
This gave Celene a good break from her inner workings. “Should I search it myself?”
“No.” She slapped at the bag; a firefly sitting on it didn’t tear off. Remarkable, this Nature Girl. “I went shopping with Thalia.”
“Okay.”
Skye’s lashes slammed together. Praying for fortitude of the highest order, if Celene had to make an educated guess. “Celene, you’re extremely generous. You’re my first commission. You’ve given me jewelry, homemade presents, surprise visits, the chance to date you, even for show.” Skye had faced her bag for the last of that list, slowly pulling at the zipper, and as it moved, Celene’s curiosity clashed with disquiet. “Generosity. That’s a virtue my parents and grandparents hold dear. It’s what we care about—leaving the earth a little better than when we got here. We live comfortably, not lavishly, donating significant chunks of capital from my parents’ promotions and Luce’s success to regional organizations. Most of the time anonymously.”
Celene wasn’t a stranger to wealth, finding herself exposed to exclusive social circles by ways of her job, Nadine, and some academic spaces through her mother. Though she hadn’t met anyone who claimed these things. Truthfully, she’d probably find this concept overblown or a tax write-off if not for Skye.Celene nodded, believing the heaviness in her voice. “That’s beautiful.”
“It’s doing what we can,” Skye replied casually. “June’s told me I’m passive about women, dating, all that. I thought my lack of approach was neutral, then it disturbed me to think I’m taking too much from you.”
Heart and hands constricting, Celene couldn’t stop herself from shifting closer. That wasn’t true in the slightest. “You’re not a taker, Skye.”
“Celene. This...” Hissing out a long breath, she went on. “I’m very embarrassed to show you this. Thalia and I spent two evenings scouring boutiques, department stores, shopping centers, and... I’m afraid my purchases are shallow.”
Celene struggled to place Skye’s anxious energy. With a firm head shake, she rubbed on Skye’s wonderfully bare shoulder, soothed by her softness all over again. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Skye emptied the duffle, unveiling three boxes between them.
No stranger to the finer things, Celene noticed the matte texture and graphics on the boxes as high-end, before eyeing any text for photos in their limited light source. Then, she picked up the smallest box, resting it upon her fingertips—an electric noise machine.
“It came in white. Hope that’s okay.” Skye tapped the largest box and the other that fell between the two in size. “This is the best Selenite crystal lamp I could find and this?—”
“A teapot with an infuser.” Celene knew it well; she’d attempted to buy one before, but it’d been sold out on the company’s website. Matte, dark plum clay, and more expensive than anything she’d given Skye. “How can I accept these? They’re so nice.”
“I don’t pay rent. I can afford it.” Skye pushed the teapot’s box until it touched Celene’s leg. “Your family may not see it, butyou’re doing something intimate and kind for them. Most would sell that house and let others deal with its damages. Instead, you’re being intentional about its care.” Her bottom lip furled inward, then slipped from beneath her teeth. “Your siblings’ presence there throws you off. So, whether for a few more weeks or months, you have these for relaxation. To help you block out all the noise.”
