Creed Lawson was a retired English teacher who ended his career with a flowing speech using grand literary quotes about the most important thing that he learned: girls should not read books. He could often be found at the library in his worn-out cardigan giving disgruntled looks to anyone of the female persuasion. He was asked to leave twice. And then banned for the rest of his grouchy life.
Ursula put two stone ramekins of her homemade ricotta at each end of the table and squeezed fresh lemon with a sprinkle of flaky sea salt with a flourish.
Honey wine was poured.
Music was played.
The sun warmed them as it dipped lower and lower bringing on a cerulean backdrop for a brilliant pink and orange tinted sky.
Laughter was flowing and conversation was easy. Many hands had to reach up to right their dinner neighbor's tipping crowns throughout the meal. It was decadent and lovely.
Eloise felt, for the first time in a few weeks, calm and safe. She could breathe, and when she did it was lungfuls of fresh air that promised life with a hint of line-dried cotton. It made her think of when she was little and would read outside in the old beach chair that was red and white striped and creaked when you folded it together so that you could unfold it exactly at the angle you wanted. She would sit there with a book or magazine next to the line of drying clothes letting the sunshine brush away the water and leave behind the perfect scent of the cotton and sunscreen.
She thought of white picket fences and her dad teaching her how to parallel park using a riding lawn mower.
She felt a deep pang in her chest and flattened her hand on the pale pink tablecloth at the memory, at how easily it slid into her mind like innocence and sharpened knives.
"Are you okay?" Ursula leaned her head near her shoulder and Eloise borrowed her strength, taking in her vanilla and sea salt smell to ground her.
"Yeah. This is nice. Jessica is great," she said with a wide smile.
"Yeah, she is. I'm glad she's moving back. She could use you as a friend," Ursula said and the way she said it was so easy, so simple. Like it was a fact, that someone could need someone else and find comfort from who they are. Like she did with Ursula.
"Why me?"
Her green eyes found her amber ones and she said, "Because you're the kind of person that just is who you are but in a gentle way that tells others it's okay to be who they are. And we all need someone to give us that permission sometimes."
She swallowed hard at the emotion surfacing again and looking into her best friend's eyes, so honest and pure, she knew she needed to tell her what was going on. Not because she deserved to know, but because she would want to be there for Eloise.
"Can we talk later?" she asked.
Ursula nodded. And that was it.
"Hey, is Kelsea okay?"
"As odd as it may be, she is probably battling demons of her own, but nothing of the sort from Jessica. She wouldn't tell me exactly what was said, the night I was drugged," Ursula whispered, remembering that horrible night at the Halloween festival. "But she assured me that Jessica had been nothing but kind towards her, despite everything."
"Despite everything," she repeated confused then it hit her. The tentative way Kelsea had been holding herself apart tonight. "Oh, Rob?" Her mind shifted back over shame-filled conversations with Kelsea. "He was the married man she had an affair with?"
"Oh, I thought you knew. She talked about it with you," Ursula said.
"Damn," she exclaimed softly, taking in this new information. "Wait, so she and Jessica?"
"Aren't enemies."
A memory hit Eloise of a woman sitting across from her, her eyes pained and her fingers anxiously wringing apart a cheap napkin.
She understood personal demons.
She leaned forward catching Kelsea's eye and gave her the look between women silently checking in. Kelsea nodded and smiled, though it was tight.
She melted back into the table's conversation and Jessica shared about her kids and what she was up to, what her plans were in Salem. She and Rob had sold their perfect house, which she hated, and she was looking around for a small cottage to raise the kids and maybe get a messy dog they weren't allowed to have before.
"And the perfectly peachy pink bedroom with cream bedding and curtains?" Ursula asked. Jessica's happiness shone at her memory.
"Ah, ladies! My darlings," Crystal announced at one end of the table where she stood. She had a crown on top of her pink hat and a glass of honey wine raised in the air. "We have one more event for this evening and that is the part of the evening where we get rid of the juju of Rob and any lingering darkness and," she shrugged her thin shoulders, "well, it's just going to be fun as hell. If you'll follow me, we are going to the glitter barn!" And then she was walking away with her pink kaftan floating behind her like a feminine witchy goddess as she walked into the sunset setting the sky into a blaze of pinks and peaches; the perfect overhead banner for tonight.
"What's the glitter barn?" Ursula asked for anyone close.
