Tilly could almost hear Jen's voice, though her friend simply looked at her. Could hear her saying that Tilly was taught to keep to herself; anything other than equilibrium was to be shoved down deep. That her fear of making mistakes was by design, so she barely left a footprint in her parents' lives.
Or maybe these were Tilly's thoughts, wrapped in her friend's bold voice, borrowing her courage so that perhaps she would believe the words.
A rustle of branches above drew Jen's eye up to where birds gathered. "I do fear making mistakes. The difference is that I was taught it was okay, and to learn from them. Your parents forgot to teach you the glory in that piece of fucking up."
Tilly laughed.
Jen looked back at her, smiling. "What's going on, friend?"
She almost shrugged or chose words that danced along ambiguity, but she'd learned that with Jen, she could read her too well, and it would come to a head eventually.
"I hate that I did so much work after my divorce, only for a guy like Ronnie to blur the lines of those boundaries."
Jen sighed and reached over to take the container of food from Tilly's hands, spearing a tomato with the fork for a bite. After a thoughtful chew, she said, "You know I don't hide my feelings and thoughts about things like that very well."
"I don't want you to."
Jen held up a hand, stalling her. "I appreciate that. But something I want you to know more than what I think about Ronnie, or any guy who treats you badly, is that you are lovely and I am here."
Her words were honey.
"I didn't agree to go to dinner with Ronnie with any hope of anything," she explained. "I have no feelings for him."
"And yet," Jen nodded in encouragement.
"And yet," she sighed. "Him not showing up reminded me of how he made me feel back then. And it feels pathetic."
"It's not pathetic. It's a time machine. Also, fuck him for not showing up."
Tilly laughed.
"No, seriously. He swoops back into town, and what, did he think you would be a still frame waiting for him? I'm guessing he did not like seeing Mr. Chief of the town looking at you like a delicious snack," Jen waggled her eyebrows, and Tilly rolled her eyes.
"Can I be whiny and annoying for a minute?"
Jen smiled widely and nodded for her to go, to release. She ate more of the Greek food as she sat next to her friend, knowing sheneeded to get words out into the world for her insides to settle down.
"I want to know why. I want to understand why someone would use someone else, hurt them, and take advantage of them. Selfishness cannot be enough. I cannot get behind that someone is just..." She made a little growling sound of frustration and finished, "an ass."
Jen listened. Tilly talked. It was the perfect summer evening for speaking the ungrounded and shadowed fears into the world to see if they sank or took flight. Good friends will sit there and give wings to truths, and be ready with a shovel to bury the lies.
"You know, learning why won't heal you."
"I know," Tilly replied, her words drooped with exhaustion. "But how then? Is it just time because that sucks."
Jen laughed. "I think that is outdated advice. How about this?" She turned toward Tilly and grabbed her hands, hers larger and slender, her dark skin cocooning Tilly's smaller hands beautifully. "I promise to witness your heartache. I will hold it in my hands until you have the strength to hold what's left." She shrugged. "Maybe we need each other to witness our fractured selves so that they can also witness when we put ourselves back together. It's," she paused, thinking. "Well, it's bigger."
Something loosened inside Tilly's chest.
"I like that. You know, when I moved here, after Brent, you didn't try and pull that story out of me. I was scared to put the story out in words and, I don't know. I was just scared. And still, until I told the girls, I kept it to myself. But you didn't push. You saw that I was broken and you just walked alongside me."
Jen nodded thoughtfully. "Sometimes we need people to bring a lamp to our darkness; not to fix us, but to sit with us and create light while we heal."
Jen's words lightly wrapped around Tilly's ribcage, a soft caress. How had she known that was what Tilly needed back then?
"Maybe you were scared that you would hand someone your story and they would tell you it's not that bad." She looked over her friend's lovely face. "You know what I watched when you moved here, all broken?"
Tilly snort-laughed. "I'm afraid for you to paint the picture."
