"Pretty sure I'm well past that," Tilly said with a curious tilt of her head.
Jen flicked her words away with a hand. "It should be a thing. A coming of different age party. Hello world," she said, regally waving her hand through the air. "I've unlearned everything you taught me and fuck you."
"A coming of rage party," Kelsea supplied to Jen's delight.
The sudden laughter filled the Lost Souls' living room, adding to the celebratory ambiance.
A chime somewhere deep in the bones of the house sounded, making them all look up, around, searching.
Soon they found themselves in the kitchen. Dishes were soaking in the large farmhouse sinks and the smells of roasted meat and berries, baked bread, and something sweet in the oven filled their senses.
"Oh wow," Bess said in awe, and when she pointed out the back window they all looked, taking in what the large panes of glass allowed them to see and then they smiled as they made their way into the summer night garden where a round table had been set with gossamer green cloth, sparkling as the sun dipped low.
There was a dramatic brass candelabra with black taper candles lit, surrounded by thick and squat pillar candles of dark green, all burning and giving off a smell of juniper and vanilla with a hint of spice.
They took seats and poured drinks, and passed around serving dishes with pillows of lemon ricotta and chicken ravioli, fresh bread with herbed butter and black sea salt, verdant salad with bursting summer berries. Their conversation flowed, and as their laughter filled the cozy garden space, the sky became darker and the twinkle lights above them shimmered lovingly.
Tilly had quietly given Ursula the black invitation she'd received with a timidity that showed in the hold of her shoulders and eyes bouncing between the two current tenants of this enchanting house.
Ursula looked to Eloise after they both had read it, and Tilly held her breath, ready to tell them she didn't want to intrude because that's what women learned without recognizing it at a young age, how to uninvite themselves from spaces they're afraid they're not good enough for. Or too much for.
But when Eloise threw her arms around Tilly and Ursula joined with a wide, honest smile, she felt a smidgen of that fear release on a breath.
"You do not have to-"
"Stop. Whatever you're going to say, just stop. You need a place, and this house," Ursula looked back and up at the black wood lovingly, respectfully. "It's not mine or Eloise's. It's for those it invites, and we welcome you without pause."
So that was that. They went back to their dinner party conversation, and a bonfire at some point was lit as cherry tarts with brown sugared pecans were passed around by Bess and Jessica along with Tilly's honey wine.
"You're going to have to tell us your perfect cocktail, now that you will be an official Lost Souls tenant," Ursula said.
"Coconut mojito," Jen replied with a wide smile for her friend.
Tilly laughed and winked at her. "I do go weak in the knees for a good, muddled coconut mojito. Not too sweet, and the perfect amount of mint."
"Oh, hell yes. Haven't had one of those in years."
"Perfect for the summer," Ursula agreed with Eloise. "We shall make a pitcher for your move-in day."
"And I love coconut and mint," Bess added with a hopeful look, which every woman shot down immediately, getting a dramatic eye roll from the teenager. Her black combat boots bounced with her legs thrown over one wide arm of her chair, and all women around the fire had the sentimental thought of how glad they were that she was a part of this. Such a tenderness with her sharp age wrapped around it made them reminiscent of their spent youth, whatever form it took. Each young woman has her thumbprint; a coming-of-age, and though it may have looked different for each one of them, the common theme was the yearning to be seen and belong and understand that they make life matter.
The sweet cocoon was broken when a low, feminine voice pushed into their circle uninvited, drawing attention and frowns.
"I suppose we missed the meal."
Tilly and Eloise shared a look as they recognized the woman from Jen's ribbon cutting. Tall, austere, and wearing a different suit. This time, she was flanked by two other women, both with similar energy as they stood next to her silently. Her dark hair was pulled back from her severe face, the fire glinting off its angles sharply. The woman on her right was the same height with lighter hair, softer features. On the left was a woman with dark skin, light eyes, and a pointy chin.
"I'm sorry," Crystal said kindly. "Can we help you ladies?" There was something in Crystal's eyes, a knowing.
"I hope so," she said with a smile.
Tilly remembered the smile. It wasn't kind, and it wasn't happy.
"You seem to be the coven at the center of Salem's rather," she paused, looking around the circle of women watching them warily, "odd happenings."
"You seem to be showing up where you're not invited," Eloise said, with her sharp charm. "But please, if you're going to continue coming around, give us your names and we'll give you a cherry tart."
"Astra Harding," she laid a delicate hand on her breastbone as she said it, then nodded to the softer woman. "Esther." Her head tipped the other way. "Beatrice." No last names for the other two. The entire formation was angular, perfunctory. "And I know each of you."
