"And?"
"And he's Ronnie," she said with a shrug.
Jen's eyes narrowed. She also knew that look. It was herdon't think about bullshitting melook. And Tilly knew with that look that the reason she'd told her was so that she wouldn't give him another piece of her.
"And I am good. Without him. I want nothing from him. I had to put too much of myself back together for someone who was," she paused, looking around, not finding words.
"A loser. A guy who hoped you would help him feel worth something from his high school glory days and not have to face not maturing past that."
Tilly's laugh was sharp, and Jen joined her as they laughed about old broken hearts that once lived with a force and now had no hold.
It was powerful to look at the ghost of a broken heart and know that you were fine.
Jen smiled. "Alright, well, how about we make blueberry pancakes, listen to music, and spend the day in our pajamas watching reruns?"
"Deal."
"And if he does anything," she added, but Tilly laid a hand on her arm with thankful eyes.
"I know."
She knew.
They'd spent most of the day that way: lounging, snacking, talking between lines of a shared favorite show. Until noon hit, and something inside of Tilly made her itchy to get outside and move. She wasn't sure that she could describe it other than to name it as restlessness that comes with feeling like you've lost power and control in your life.
She took stock of her emotions after a tumultuous run with them yesterday. She was scared about losing her job. But other than feeling a little frayed around the edges and like she had failed at something, she wasn't buzzing with too many feelings today.
So, she got dressed in a red sundress and flip-flops and kissed Jen on the cheek, thanking her for taking care of her. After a stop at The Black Cat where Eloise had her honey lavender latte ready, which she might have found curious a few months ago but now was just one of the benefits of having witchy friends, she found herself walking around the surrounding streets heading downtown.
Sunshine trailed down her face and arms in a delicate brush of comfort. This was the time of year when the sun was welcome and hadn't yet pressed too much of itself against the world. She felt off-kilter, as anyone would in her current predicament, but there was something more to it. It felt outside of herself, like theworld around her had been a nicely fit puzzle, and now a few pieces were missing.
Her thoughts swung to Ronnie, and she rolled her eyes at herself. She was glad she'd unloaded that burden with Jen in the early morning kitchen.
Sometimes Jen could be overbearing when it came to her opinion on things. Though she was usually right.
Her phone rang and she stopped to dig it out of her purse. When she saw her sister's name flashing on the screen she groaned, throwing her head back and gathering herself before she answered it. But as she was about to, someone called her name.
She looked over to find Mrs. Ling walking down the porch steps of The Blueberry House. She hadn't realized that's where her mindless walk had led her, as she looked up at the umbrella canopy of the large weeping willow she was standing under.
The mysterious mug truly had captured its grand beauty.
"Oh good," Mrs. Ling said, stepping through a curtain of willow branches, a couple of lime green strands hanging over her shoulders like a mantle. "I was going to call you today."
"Me?" Tilly asked, pointing to herself. Her phone stopped buzzing in her hand, and she tucked it back into her purse to deal with later.
"Yes. Why don't you come in? I have cookies and can make any tea you would like."
Tilly considered this and realized, why not? She had nothing else to do.
"Sure. But why were you going to call me?" She and Mrs.Ling weren't unfriendly, but she wouldn't consider them close friends by any means. Or really, friends at all. Acquaintances. They were lovely acquaintances.
"Oh, we'll get to that, dear. Tea and cookies first."
She led her through the back door of The Blueberry House and into the kitchen, which was an affair of sunshine and sugar. The slanted ceiling of one large half of the kitchen was greenhouse windows, opening up the space to its light. Everything was white from the tiled floor to the cabinets and walls. Even the island and kitchen table were made of white laminate, though cracked in many places and yellowing with time. In fact, upon closer inspection, the walls were dingy, the cabinets smudged with use, and a few tiles cracked in corners, the grout needing a good bleaching. It wasn't unclean, just used.
Still, it was open and warm. The rays of the sunshine shot down into the room, mixing with the smells of baked sugar and butter, and the overall effect was overwhelming bliss.
Tilly felt hugged, taken in, and encompassed in shelter. It was a feeling one doesn't often come across in a world as dangerous as theirs, but at that moment, she reveled in it.
