Eloise had missed that. The knowing that no matter what she was facing, the kind of kinship she had with Ursula would be the safety net or perhaps the healing balm she would need.
Ursula had spent many hours in the years they were apart wondering, just as Eloise did, if she would ever feel the kind of soul-tie that she did with her lost friend.
But they had found each other again, and it was like that ribbon had never been cut. Stretched, frayed, impossibly thinned out at times, but the moment Ursula had opened the front door of The Lost Souls house to her, that ribbon tightened back into place.
They hadn't talked much about that evening years ago, the catalyst for their time apart. They had danced around it, like they were both looking into a great canyon that neither of them knew how to begin to descend into. But for now, they stayed on the frays, the edges of that great conversation until they were both ready.
"It's always a unique kind of scary starting over again," Eloise mused. "Whatever you do could end up being incredible or a failure. Or worse, mediocre and unfulfilling."
"I think you will do great things because there is nothing inside of you that is mediocre," Ursula nudged her shoulder gently.
"I was mediocre at calculus."
"Calculus is crap."
"Right? So much worry and emphasis on such a silly subject. We should have been taught how to talk with people and create spaces of welcome."
"There should have been a class on creating a circle of people who push you to be the best version of yourself."
"A class on friendship," Eloise said with a wistful smile.
"And maybe a class on boundaries and learning when to walk away."
Eloise tasted the regret in Ursula's words, tangy like not-quite-ready citrus. Sulphur jumped onto the island and Ursula ran her hand over the cat's stretching and arching back.
"I'm proud of you. And I hate I wasn't there when you left," Eloise said softly, feeling her own regret.
Ursula wanted to say that she had pushed Eloise away and allowed someone to measure out her worth for an embarrassing amount of time. "You showed up when it was time. And I'm glad you're here now," she replied as Sulphur jumped into Eloise's lap.
"Bedtime?"
"Yes. I have to harvest some dahlia tubers tomorrow and I need to start early."
"Shoot, I was going to help you with that," Eloise said realizing she would instead be at The Black Cat early.
Ursula stood up and filled Casper's bowl waving her hand. "You're helping out the coffee shop and I can feel your excitement. I've got it covered. If it takes an extra day, the nursery will be fine."
"I'm loving this flower-child, free version of you. It's like you found your inner 7-year-old Ursula and grew into her again."
Ursula smiled wistfully as she gave the orange-red tulips more water. "Maybe that should be a class: finding that child version of ourselves that is free and wild and a little whimsical. And learning how to marry that with the lessons we've learned as adults."
Eloise laughed. "I think that one is called therapy."
Eloise spent that evening walking with a sleepy Casper, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she looked up at the milky white moon wondering what her inner child would want. She feared it would take some facing of demons and grief to get her to link hands once again with her younger self. She slept under the peach tree, the wide world sleeping as the moon watched over it all. Little snowdrops pressed through the dirt, their sweet, almond scent filling her nose and wrapping around her dreams like spun sugar, a promise of good things to come.
7. Better Coffee
Six hours of secluding herself in Shellee's office at the back of The Black Cat, reading through previous order forms and finding the phone numbers to talk to suppliers on the phone, Eloise exited the dark office with a stretch of her muscles in search of water and a snack. It was Saturday, now afternoon,and she found Bess and another barista named Tess who was finishing her senior year at the high school.
When she introduced herself and let Tess in on why she was there, she got a wafting smell of a warm, city sidewalk and not one that was completely clean. Not that Tess herself was unkempt or smelled unpleasant. She had nice, bobbed blonde hair that showed off her cute features and she was well put together in designer jeans and a grey shirt, but about an hour after being at the shop and listening to her and Bess talk, she got the distinct feeling that Tess was the kind who didn't know how to make room for another person in conversation.
Everyone knew these people; everyone had met and sometimes avoided these people. They, when talking with others, create a one-sided conversation. They're often uninterested in others, their thoughts, ideas and it can feel a lot like being invisible when you are with them. While these people can be frustrating, and at times infuriating depending on their lack of self-awareness, Eloise had always found people like Tess interesting, at least when she herself didn't feel like she was being held hostage in one of their soliloquies. What must they have been shown about relationship to not know how to engage in relationally reciprocal conversation?
How much silence were they fed to believe it was poison?
Still. It could feel like sitting in the front-row seat of a one-person play that is not interactive and makes you want to look for the exit.
Now, she slid behind the bar where Bess was capping a drink for someone while Tess was cleaning out the grinder and talking to no one, or everyone. Only half of the cafe tables were filled, both inside and out.
