"Hey, Ronnie."
"Hey, Jen. Congrats on the store. It's cool."
She smiled. It wasn't one of joy.
"Well, we're headed out. See ya, Ronnie." Jen walked past Ronnie toward Tilly.
"Actually, we're in the middle of something."
Jen stopped short and turned slowly, looking him up and down, the set of her shoulders and the sparkle in her eyes a warning that he did not read.
"Listen. You want to step in for your girl, but this is between me and her."
Tilly's eyes widened.
Jen's face broke out in a slow smile.
Tilly watched, captivated by what was about to happen. Ronnie had been given a subtle warning from Jen, and he had not heeded it. Something caught inside of her, and something else was coming off of her best friend in sparks.
Indignation, anger, and blatant humor, all mixing in a rolling cloud of tobacco smoke.
"You listen," Jen said gently. "My girl? She doesn't need me to step in for her. But you're not getting the message because apparently the decibel at which you hear her words, you've trained your brain to ignore. So here's a new pitch for you."
Ronnie's hand dropped to cross his arms over his puffed-out chest, and Tilly stepped to the side just the slightest so that she could see his expression of tentative anger.
Jen took a step forward and continued. "You think that she needs you. You act like a man who thinks drinking matcha is superior, and having no plans makes you interesting. A man whodoesn't know how to communicate and won't get his trauma figured out in therapy, instead dumping it on women who you feel out, hoping they don't have boundaries. Because men like you? You look for places in people to park your mess without accountability. That's called a coward."
"Okay, I think-"
She cut him off by taking another step toward him, her arms crossed over her chest. He straightened slightly. "Ithink you should stop saying things like 'I think'because there's no evidence to support that. I also think that it's got to take a hell of a lot of delusion to look at a woman like Tilly Nguyen and think she will allow you to use her again, taking pieces of her to fill yourself up until you've got what you need and walk away without a look back." Another two steps and Jen was a mere two feet from where he stood; a standoff, and the sight was beautiful.
Portia had taken to a branch closer to the scene as she made a cooing sound. Tilly nodded her silent agreement.
Jen was inches taller than him, a goddess of towering power holding him captive with honesty and the dare for him to retreat.
"I am a black lesbian, so I am uniquely qualified when I say that you have delusions of adequacy. You could benefit from some good old-fashioned questions of self-worth so that you can recalibrate."
Tilly's mouth dropped open. As did Portia's beak.
Power expanded her belly and ribcage, the magic of it buzzing along the bones in a kind of zipping that made her feel like she could either burst or perhaps fly.
Jen lowered her voice, lacing her words with more danger than the man before her could possibly understand. "I think the kind of man who barely has a job, even less stable of a living situation, and wears a beanie to cover his receding hairline in his forties probably shouldn't ask a woman to invest in his unstable con artist promises. So I suggest you learn that lesson now, in thestreets of Salem, standing off with two witches where you are no longer welcome after this moment. And I suggest you take that lesson and learn how to apply it to being a better human. Because if you don't?" Her eyes flicked up to the top of his head, then back to his frowning stare. "More than a receding hairline will be hexed onto you."
She turned easily, her head high, cheekbones blades, and smile sharp as she nodded to Tilly. She tossed over her shoulder, "The hair was me, by the way, Ronald." She waved her manicured fingers playfully before she took Tilly's hand and they walked down the sidewalk, leaving Ronnie alone with his dressing down and receding hair.
As they walked away, Portia leaped from the branch, and both women stopped when they heard him curse. A few pecks at his head, and the crow had his beanie, which he tried to grab for, missing as she flew toward them. The hat dropped into Tilly's hands, and she looked at it, then at a shocked Ronnie. A half-balding Ronnie.
"Coward," the crow said.
Tilly felt a piece of paper burn from embarrassment to shock to anger.
"Let's go," Tilly said, squeezing Jen's hand and pulling her along.
"Did your bird call him a coward?"
Tilly laughed, a bubble of freedom filling her body. "Yeah. But you were the star of that show."
Jen's smile was so big that Tilly could feel the stretch of it. "God, I've wanted to tell him off since the first time he blew you off."
