Ronnie following up on dinner was surprising. What was not surprising was that going out to dinner had turned into ordering in. He had considered one of her favorite places, which was not one of his. That had been nice of him.
"Stop it. One small consideration does not a good guy make," she reminded herself out loud.
Tilly: How about we meet there?
UnRelational Ronnie: Cool
Dinner with Ronnie. Okay. Not bad. She could handle that. He had hurt her, but she recovered and spending one evening with him wouldn't put her back in that place. She harbored no feelings for him other than the ghost of pain he left behind.
She hoped that if she leaned into those thoughts, they would become her reality, because if they didn't, she didn't want to think about how she would handle facing that kind of pain again.
"Hello!" a sing-song voice called from the front. Then the swinging door was pushed, ushering in Judy. She was wearing an army green jumpsuit in a thick jean material that looked both utilitarian and chic. She was in her mid-forties, but the way that she bounced around life, you'd think she was still getting started. Her blonde ponytail was high and reminded Tilly of Jessica's hair. When she saw Tilly, her mouth stretched into such a warm smile that touched her eyes. Tilly suddenly felt a burst of sunshine.
It was like being kissed by the sun when it knew you were cold.
"I heard you were taking over this old broad and I could not be happier." She pulled Tilly into a hug. The woman had half a foot on her. Maybe more. She was curvy, and Tilly felt enveloped in the best way. She smelled like a nice wood and bergamot.
"Can I get you anything?" she opened the fridge as Judy took a seat, avoiding the wobbly stool that Tilly made a mental note to get rid of.
"Oh no, honey. I just came by to get a list of things you think you might need help fixing around here. And I know there are things. Lots of things. I could start the list for you."
Tilly carried her glass of iced tea to sit next to her. By the sound of it, Judy had been waiting for this. "Why didn't you do them with Mrs. Ling?"
"Because Mrs. Ling only called me for large repairs. The things she called wear and tear, she said she didn't want to bother mewith. As if being here however often as possible while doing my job is a bother," she said, laughing with animated shakes of her head. "I come to the monthly book club here," she explained. "My mom came to the book club before me when I was growing up, and the bridge club. She came to the bridge club until she passed a year ago."
"Sorry. I didn't know she passed," Tilly said. She wasn't sure who her mother was. She knew Judy. Everyone knew Judy.
"Oh, it was time. Dementia. She was barely living by the end. I said goodbye to her years ago. But that list," she said, changing the subject.
"Right! I have a few things that come to mind. The screen is ripped in a few places around the back."
"Let's start there!" Judy was up and walking toward the door as she told Tilly she'd take measurements and finish it by the end of the day. "Anything else you want to talk through before I get started?"
"Oh, and I'm supposed to find you a girlfriend."
Judy was standing with the door open halfway in the kitchen and halfway in the hallway. She burst out laughing. It was such a large laugh that even if Tilly hadn't been joking, she couldn't imagine not joining in.
"I'm going to miss that woman," she said with a shake of her head. "Oh," she popped her head back through the doorway, "I like women with a little bit of attitude." A wink, then she left.
Suddenly, the day was over and she had managed to create a to-do list that was daunting when looked at and flipped through, especially as she got to the fourth page. The sky outside was darkening - a quick look at her watch told her it was already a quarter past eight.
The night manager, Freida, was in her fifties and Tilly only knew her in passing. She came to the inn around seven, giving Tilly an odd look when she introduced herself.
It wasn't a leap to wonder if Freida, who had been working here for six years, silently questioned if Tilly was up to the job. Not so silently with her face.
She was of average height, with short, curling, dark blonde hair. She had on a navy blue cardigan with one button mismatching the others, like it had been replaced. Her glasses connected with a colorful bead chain, and she looked like she belonged behind the desk at the library.
Which she did. She also worked at their public library, and while Tilly had never talked with her, she had seen her shelving books and giving people stern looks if they got too rambunctious.
"Freida, I am going to head out."
Freida gave her a bland look. And then thoughts began running rampant.
Should she not leave? Did Mrs. Ling usually stay later? What if she hated her?
"Um, well, I left my phone number there for you in case anything wild happens."
Freida took a sip from her large, lime-green tumbler. Tilly watched her with that unease and fear of not knowing how this was supposed to go. Of wondering what was running through the woman's mind.
