Enough plot twists had occurred that she felt the vertiginous unrest that was digging up old voices, old patterns of thought, and fear. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of a path less taken.
On the evening that she was supposed to get dinner with Ronnie, she decided she needed to finish peeling off old wallpaper in the front hallway, which was a stilted process because of the decades-old glue used, so she texted him a raincheck.
The Covenant hadn't shown themselves since the dinner party, and while there was a shifting in the air, Salem had remained relatively quiet.
Here, in the inn, where she could scrape off decades-old wallpaper and pick up a paintbrush to cover old imperfections, she felt solid. She was accomplishing and fixing.
Crystal, who rarely took to the communication medium of texting, left a note pinned to a gold and black ten of swords card.
The Grandmother clock is a clock for an altruist
An altruist, she thought, turning the word over in her mind.
She saw a text come through- a crying face emoji from Ronnie.
She felt a pang of remorse.
She caught herself, before shaking it away as she threw up her thick hair into a ponytail and gritted her teeth to take on her project. She stayed late, feeling a frenzied need to finish something, checking this off her list.
Freida had been no help, only watching her from her perch at the front desk between chapters of her cozy mystery book with looks of furrowed annoyance at Tilly's whisper-yelled expletives when she dropped a tool or scraped her knuckles.
She'd tried with the night manager to encourage conversation, making her tea and bribing her with Eloise's rosemary and cheddar scones. But the woman simply gave her nothing.
When she brought her a bottle of her honeysuckle honey wine, Freida had shifted her body backwards and scrunched up her nose at the offering.
She tried not to take it personally, but she wasn't sure how not to.
It tickled the old worry inside of Tilly. Maybe Freida didn't like her. Maybe she was already bungling everything, and no one liked her and wondered why Mrs. Ling handed her this monstrous job.
She stifled the thoughts with old reminders that if someone didn't like her and she had tried her best, that was on them.
And she knew it to be true, but yet...the racing thoughts were fast. Her fingers did their little tap tap dance.
It's not their power to wield.
The words stamped into her mind in a solid thump, and she caught her breath as everything else ran for the shadows. Her hand relaxed.
She could do this. Freida didn't know her enough to form an opinion of her. By the time she'd left the inn, her body was aching from the many odd positions she had been in.
The next morning was brutal.
But now she was almost finished with this front room. She had never put up wallpaper before, and it had taken a few misjudged lines to get it, but now she had it down. The smile pulling at her mouth felt like a reprieve.
She hadn't made anything beautiful in a long time. The thought was astounding, echoing through her chest. Her hand reverently ran over the new wallpaper.
The front door jingled, signaling a visitor, and she slid the smoothing tool up, up and into the crease where crown molding met wall before she climbed down from the ladder. She was proud of the work she had done. She'd taken her time measuring each piece of wallpaper and gave them all of her attention until it was installed just right. She'd finished the front sitting room and almost finished the front foyer hallway. Which was a mess of rose wallpaper that looked like the roses themselves had overgrown.
She checked her appearance, smoothing down her long red maxi skirt, admittedly not the best fashion choice to wear when installing wallpaper on a high ladder, but she'd worn her comfortable canvas flats and a cute t-shirt with a red collar and a black cat reading a book.
She rounded the doorframe and saw a tall, dark-haired woman's back as she was looking at a fake plant dangling from the hold of old ropes and made a mental note to take that down immediately.
"Welcome! How can I help you?" She was opening the guest check-in planner and when she looked up her heart stopped as the person turned to face her.
11. Upheaval
"Fae! What are you doing here?"
Her older sister stood there, her long black hair pushed back on the top with a pair of expensive sunglasses, her tailored pants hanging perfectly on her tall, slender body, and her blouse, which she knew would have cost more than five of Tilly's outfits combined, and looked around the space with barely hidden derision.
