"Okay, well I don't think Kyle needs to be hexed," Bess said with laughter. She was wearing a red beanie over her wavy black hair. "I'm pretty sure Uncle J scared him sufficiently after he heard Kyle tell me I was only interested in being a pink-wearing feminist who hangs out with old biddies who think they're witches."
"I'm definitely hexing the little shit-head now," Jen said as she scooped Sulphur up into her lap.
Ursula pointed at Jen. "No hexing. Bess is right, Jenson scared the crap out of him," she confirmed. "But you let us know if it is a matter that needs to be taken up with the council," she winked at Bess who winked back at her.
The women slowly made their way home a little while later leaving Bess, Ursula and Eloise brushing elbows in the kitchen as they cleaned. The teenager was staying the night in her moonlight room while Jenson was a few hours away finishing a job with his crew.
"Oh hey, Eloise? Shellee called me back and she's actually going to be gone for at least three months and I swear she was jumping up and down when I told her Ursula's best friend offered to step in. She said that you have a unique charm about you."
"I do," Eloise agreed.
"Yeah, her parents taught her to love herself young. It's weird," Ursula added with a smile.
"That is weird," Bess joked. "Where did your sense of humor come from if not from parent trauma?"
"I read a lot. And I had my share of heartbreak. If you play your cards right, you can turn heartbreak into wit."
"I'll keep that in mind," she laughed. "But The Black Cat, are you still up for that?"
A thrill went through her at the thought of taking on a new coffee shop project. "Absolutely. I can be there tomorrow morning. What time do you open?"
They made a plan before Bess retired for the night leaving Ursula and Eloise in the freshly cleaned kitchen soft and dim with two candles burning and one small lamp in the shape of a napping gold cat glowing on the counter.
"So, this Taylor guy," Ursula started. "No potential there? He handled my report from the fall festival. Very handsome. Very kind."
"He said he doesn't date. I'm not looking to crack that code," Eloise said with a knowing laugh. "I think I could truly be content alone." When she saw Ursula make a face she shook her head. "No, really. I have you, and these friends and I'm looking forward to sinking my teeth into this coffee shop until I figure out what I want to do. I feel, I don't know, like pieces of myself I've been missing are coming back to me."
"Yeah, I get that. Alright," she conceded. "You know you can stay here as long as you want."
"I know. But one day you and your lumber snack of a man are going to probably get married and move in here with Bess, because this house absolutely trumps his, and then the weird friend, slash, aunt-like creature?" She laughed throwing a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm out."
"That weird friend, slash, aunt-like creature is still welcome here no matter what."
Eloise leaned her head on Ursula's shoulder as they sat at the island. "And I appreciate that. I'm okay not looking too far forward right now."
"I'm surprised you haven't scared Jenson yet with your, 'If you hurt my best friend I'll kill you,' speech," Ursula said, doing a terrible impression of Eloise.
"I sound nothing like that. And what makes you think I haven't?"
"Have you?"
Eloise lifted her head and wiggled her eyebrows.
Ursula frowned trying to read her. "You have?"
"Please," she scoffed. "Fourth day I was here."
She thought about that morning. Ursula had been in the greenhouse and she was sitting in the warm kitchen, the morning light taking its time leaving her in that early darkness with the soft glow of the kitchen lamp and a cup of hot coffee giving her warmth. She watched the steam rise and dissipate as she thought about nothing. There was a gentle numbness that had taken over her, the kind that settles on the shoulders of a woman who has been moving so fast and taking on so much that when she finally hit the brakes and settled into a moment, she felt like she was enclosed in a silent and peaceful pocket.
How long it would last was unknown, but in that early morning moment, sitting in her lost friend's cozy kitchen and Ursula's smell all around her, a world left behind along with its problems and an uncertain future ahead, she remembered thinking how lovely the steam was rising and evaporating.
Jenson walked in through the back door then. And he stopped when he saw her perched on a stool with a peach blanket wrapped around her shoulders. They stared at each other, strangers, and yet on the precipice of something greater. He was the lover of a woman she called her dearest friend.
She was the great love his lover lost.
"So, you're the lumberjack," she said.
"Brawny man," he corrected then shook his head at the slip of a silly joke drawing out a half smile from her. He cleared his throat and reached out a hand to her. His grip was exactly what she would expect: warm and rough. "Jenson."
