Page 81 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
Elise stopped swinging. “You don’t care about any of us, do you? Because you’re condescending and miserable. It’s unbelievable that Skye likes you.”
Skye fisted the labradorite and sugilite pendants to keep her own temper from flaring. She could relate to Ajay, whose unshaven jaw dropped. He started, “El, you can’t?—”
“Fuck you, Elise,” Celene snapped, breaking her stance to lunge a threatening few inches. “I don’t need you to believe anything.”
“Skye’s light; you’re the deep, dingy darkness,” Elise taunted after stifling a hard cough. She wouldn’t let this go now that she’d garnered a strong reaction. “And if you don’t change, you’ll chase her away like you’ve done us and like you’d done Quinn.”
Okay, this wouldn’t yield anything solid. This woman, who looked on the verge of committing a felony, was Celene Vale, thecomplex, giving woman who Skye couldn’t get enough of. She tested a hand on Celene’s arm like one would to see if a pan was hot. When nothing burned her, Skye escorted Celene to the primary suite, pleased she relented that willingly.
Skye gathered Celene’s hands within her own. They were frigid, not her usual warmth, and that tanked her mood even further. “Hey. I’m not going anywhere.”
Celene’s hooded eyes severed contact first, down to their hands. She shook her head, and it wasn’t clear whether from disagreement or to get her long hair from brushing her face. This lack of response made Skye squirrelly—twitchy, and much more on edge than during the argument.
“I’m here,” Skye emphasized, squeezing those cold fingers as firmly as the tension in her stomach. “I’ve always been here for you.”
Skye pressed a single kiss to Celene’s cheek before leaving the room, striding to Ajay and Elise, who weren’t done bickering.
“Elise, Ajay,” she interrupted, sterner than anticipated. It was effective, though, silencing the room. “You need to leave.”
“Oh my god, you sound like Celene,” Elise hollered, getting riled up all over again. “You don’t have the right to kick me out.”
“I’m not—” Skye held a hand out, her fingernails shiny from Celene’s copper polish. “I’m not kicking you out; does that even sound right?” She shook her head past the rhetorical question. “You and Celene need space. Please, there’s...there’s?—”
Skye remembered Celene’s quick recap of the summer wedding, Elise’s list of tourism ideas, pivoting the best she could. “The cinema on Broad Street. It hasn’t been updated since the nineties, and get this—they feature old movies all day.”
Eyeing the window, Ajay whipped out his phone. “A movie date sounds cool. The rain’s not as heavy anymore.”
Racking her brain to recall the marquee she passed on her work route, Skye knew she sealed the deal when she said, “They’re playingXanaduthis month.”
A grateful smile touched Ajay’s scruffy face. “What do you say, El? You’ve never seenXanaduon the silver screen, with surround sound. Maybe they’ll let you sing along.”
“Everyonesings along to the vintage musicals,” Skye confirmed, softening a little at Elise sniffling through a soft sob. “Loudly. Unashamed.”
“Next showing’s in fourteen minutes,” Ajay read from his phone. He pocketed it before tucking in his button-up, clearly hopeful. “Do we have enough time?”
Moving to the kitchen, Skye scooped ginger tea leaves into Celene’s new teapot’s infusing chamber. The tea from this gift was beyond flavorful; she’d brew some for both of them. “It’s a short drive. If you leave now, you’ll have time to get refreshments.”
Elise wheezed in allergic euphoria. “I want a large popcorn! Let me clean my face and find my nasal spray.”
Ajay waited for her to jet off to the bathroom before dramatizing his shoulders dipping, arms flopping in large arcs. “Thank you for that. I’d never seen them so livid.”
Now fairly acquainted with their cabinets, Skye uncorked a glass container of star anise, crushing two pods with a spoon. “It was intense.”
“That’s the Vales for you.”
Skye faced Ajay, contemplating when she assumed he and Celene were involved. What a misfire. “Do you have any fruit I could infuse in our tea?”
“I do,” Elise called from the hallway. She flitted into the kitchen, a total reverse in visual togetherness. Not a hair out of place, no more smeared lipstick. With pep, she collected a fruit from the refrigerator’s crisper. “Bought pears at the organicmarket and they’re so fucking tasty, Ajay and I inhaled them. All except one.”
Such a contradictory dynamic these sisters had. Skye thanked her and chopped thin slices to split between the teapot and a plate for snacking. When she returned to the bedroom with two mugs of fragrant pear-infused tea, the house had quieted significantly. The effect of fewer family members.
Celene resumed pacing after a quick smile at what Skye prepared. She’d made a system of walking corner to corner of the wide L-shape of the bedroom, exhaling through lots of breathwork. Skye maneuvered around her to slide the glass door partially open. Earthy ambience would aid them better than the sound machine plugged next to the bed. Though the sky remained gray, it provided sufficient light with the bedside and Selenite crystal lamps. Enhanced tranquility.
After retrieving her book from her messenger bag, Skye settled on the bed and got in on this peace, too. She’d reached book #3 ofThe Mistress of Norwoodseries. Somewhere amongst the spanking and parade of unrealistic sexual capabilities, she’d been sucked into the storyline and connected threads between each book. This third installment had a stalker subplot.
One short chapter later, Celene stopped at the table. She sipped from the mug, sighed deeply, uttered a thick, “thank you,” and continued to pace in between sips of tea until it and the pear slices were finished.
It took thirty minutes—including a ten-minute meditation on a cushion near the screened doorway—for Celene to crawl onto the bed, voice crisp and balanced. “Who’s the Mistress converting to a life of lust and wealth this time?”
