Page 78 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
The firefly, without its bag as an anchor, flitted around her shoe, and Skye wouldn’t kick it off, not even a twitch. Creatures mellowed out around her.
And presently, Celene categorized herself as a creature. “You can stop being embarrassed. These are ridiculously thoughtful gifts, Skye. They allow separation, to not concern myself with bringing my noise machine or kettle from my apartment. I’m not accustomed to asking others for...god, anything.” Celene spun a box on her lap, needing the sensation and distraction for hands that only wanted to pull Skye under her. “I don’t appreciate many people in my space. I invite you over because you’re calming, you’re funny. You’re smart. Bugs like you and still...”
What would’ve come to Celene’s life if that girl with the beads in her hair hadn’t found her in the woods, lifetimes ago? If she’d gone along with the Wayne sisters’ demands?
Celene would be in Yielding on her own. Being alone never depressed her. But...
Startled by the wet sheen in Skye’s eyes, Celene expressed what would make this real estate sale infinitely more complicated. “You’re gifting me peace, Skye. My most treasured asset. You bring me peace.”
“That first summer without you, developers chopped down our meeting tree.” Skye’s voice quaked, haunting in the night. Their shadows shrank, no longer monsters. “I cried for two days—so much that I lied to my parents, telling them I’d seen a squirrel friend get hit by a car because I...I couldn’t explain thatmy favorite person had disappeared, probably forever. I didn’t have the words then, but now I do: heartsick. It happened for three summers after that, when you still didn’t return. I’d make up excuses for my swollen eyes—pollen, a fall, a sad movie. Anything. But all I wanted was my friend back.”
Celene’s exhale stumbled; it tripped. It was the sole proof of the heat behind her eyes, begging to spill down her cheeks. She swallowed away a weep. “I thought about you, too. Then, my parents broke up for good, shattering any hope I had of them remarrying. Dad began seeing Don’s mother again, who, I swear, barely committed to taking on preteen stepdaughters. He married her anyway, and that lasted only two years. The transitions from combining our households to moving out distracted me from caring about summer vacations at all. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no,” Skye urged, gripping Celene’s hand. “Don’t apologize for being a child.”
Moonlight and outside lanterns illuminated the waves of the lake. Celene absorbed how it heightened their moment, emitting enough for her to digest all the timeless features she had no trouble praising to Skye’s friends. Years spent removed from tenderness strengthened Celene, and Skye dismantled her defenses in an evening.
Withering at these collapsed walls, Skye cushioned Celene’s fall with a kiss. Their mouths wound as one, veiled in shadowed privacy, the wind shifting the grass and the ridges of water rippling onto the coast. Celene’s heart stirred when their necklaces joined with a distinct snap.
Earlier, she’d finished a cup of tea when the Florentine car pulled up, and the moment she saw Skye, the breeze dragging into her hair, Celene’s lips twitched to assert themselves along her jaw and down to her clavicle. Now, she could fulfill those urges.
“Go slow,” Skye rasped as Celene glided her tongue down her neck. Her fingers closed onto Celene’s shoulders with light pressure.
And Celene did a four-count to hold her breath and release onto Skye’s skin. Nodding, she reclaimed Skye’s lips with a greed she’d forgotten she missed. The rhapsody, the need to be entwined with someone special. Opportunities to deepen their attachment that had been in motion since Byron bought a reasonably priced house in Yielding, PA. This greed wouldn’t resolve itself. Only Skye—whose restrained moans were delectably maddening—could temper this ache.
They weren’t even officially titled yet. That deserved to be sorted.
Skye rose and, in unspoken synchronicity, they tidied up the blanket, gifts, and leftover bits from their food. All throughout, their fingers brushed more than necessary. They pressed a kiss here and there, mutual giddiness pervading every brush.
Celene contemplated this for their ride home, where they loosely fit their fingers whenever Skye didn’t have any turns to make. All in silence. It lacked artificial laughter and contrived, insincere conversation. Divine.
“They bought rocking chairs,” Celene groaned as Skye parked on Goldfinch, outside the summer house. In two wooden outdoor chairs, Elise and Ajay waved in their arrival like elderly parents. They couldn’t make out with them on the deck, swaying and spectating.
Skye waved in return with a radiant smile. Incorrigibly neighborly and friendly, she asked, “Should I run over and say hello?”
Celene dismissed that with an eyeroll, unbuckling herself. “No. I want you all to myself.”
“You have me.” Skye released her seatbelt, too. She mimicked a bird call through her clenched teeth to cover obvious nerves. Itsounded authentic. And, perking at Celene’s raised eyebrow, she clarified, “Cardinal.”
Celene leaned the side of her head to the seat, amused. “Another.”
Without a hitch, Skye cupped her hands over her mouth and wobbled them, and out came a clear, very recognizable rolling call. Celene grinned, guessing, “Owl.”
“Common misconception. Mourning dove.”
Were those scones laced with something? Because Celene’s smile crested wider, drunkenly. “Do they answer when you do these calls?”
Skye mirrored her, tousled hair pressed to her perfect cheekbones, against her headrest. “Yeah, most of the time.”
“Princess of the wood.”
Before Skye could laugh that off, Celene switched off the overhead light, darkness competing with light coming off the house. She beckoned her with a single finger and, rather than the kiss Skye probably expected, Celene nestled her nose against her neck, breathing in earthy hair product and the ever-present scent of honey. Her lips followed suit, branding warm skin in lazy kisses.
She couldn’t do all that she wanted, but she couldn’t resist such a unique woman.
“Sometimes,” Skye started, lifting Celene’s chin. “Living here means I’m not as courageous. Everyone knows me and my family, so...” Her lips spun to the side. “I’m conscious of who’s around, who may be uncomfortable if I were to kiss a girlfriend. You don’t care about any of that, huh?”
Celene licked the corners of her lips. “No, I don’t give a fuck.”
