Henhouse

10. CHAPTER TEN

Effie normally wouldn’t have acquiesced and joined Theo and Talia at the bar after class.

It had to be a symptom of her interest in people watching.

It was the only explanation for why she would willingly subject herself to a night out with near strangers as a third wheel, retribution for wine-stained romance novels aside.

Or maybe she just wasn’t finished studying Theo, yet.

Aunt Bea had also suggested she stay open to possibilities, so she couldn’t very well say no to spontaneity even if the invite was purely apologetic.

Despite Theo’s innocent intentions it seemed Talia wanted to use it as an opportunity to tease Effie and stake her claim on the brooding safety inspector.

It was highlighted by the fact that she kept saying Theo’s name, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from her.

God was definitely testing her at this point.

Effie took her Aperol spritz and followed Theo and Talia to a high-top in the corner of the Tipsy Moose. They weren’t the only ones casting judgmental looks at her fruity red drink in the dark wood bar decorated with branded beer posters, dart boards, and a large faux moose head wearing sunglasses.

“You don’t go out much, do you?” Talia asked before sipping the pale ale, IPA, something-or-other that was locally brewed.

“What makes you say that?” Effie asked and followed Talia’s gaze to her spritz. “I don’t get weird looks at the Book and Bar,” she said a bit sheepishly before taking a sip.

There was an awkward beat that ended in Talia scooting a bit closer to Theo.

He didn’t resist but didn’t engage fully either.

Effie couldn’t tell what they were about, so she continued to sip her drink a bit too quickly.

Theo spoke first. “You shared soggy cardboard but won’t tell me what Theo tastes like?

” Effie relished the tart cocktail on her tongue that kept her from experiencing Theo once more.

“It’s irrelevant,” Effie argued.

“Unlikely,” Talia chimed. She held a dare in her gaze, but Effie refused to take the bait. Her face must have been very telling earlier if Talia wasn’t letting it go.

“It’s better than your full name, so at least we can get on without me insulting you tomorrow,” Effie proclaimed. “Or better yet, I’ll settle for neutral and call you Cardboard.”

“Then my only recourse is to call you Eggplant,” he replied.

“So be it,” Effie said and went back to sipping her drink.

“Where’s Schilling these days?” Talia asked.

Effie took in her surroundings. Why had she and Hope never come here? They liked pool and darts, people watching and a good cocktail. Maybe Effie was too settled in her ways, too sheltered.

“He’s been off lately. Hasn’t wanted to come out much. But what you probably want to know is a bunch of stuff I’m not at liberty to share with you,” Theo said pointedly, and Talia pouted.

“You’re no fun,” she whined.

“I’m no gossip,” Theo corrected, and Effie respected that. Even if she had meddled or gossiped more than she should, it was an admirable quality.

“But speak of the devil, isn’t that him?” Talia pointed across the bar to a man with a dark, scruffy beard playing darts by himself. “Hey, Schilling!” Talia yelled. Only Effie seemed to inwardly cringe at the forthright, confident summons.

Schilling about-faced, a smile on his lips at recognizing his friends. He came over to the high-top and joined them. Theo gestured to Effie. “Schilling, this is Eggplant. Eggplant, Schilling.”

“Is that—”

“It’s a bit,” Theo interjected. Schilling raised his brows but took a seat without inquiring further.

Effie doubted that was really his name either, but wanting to maintain some modicum of cool, she merely said, “Nice to meet you.” Effie thought him to be sweetly handsome, and she wondered if Talia had called him over to watch Effie squirm even more.

“What’s that?” Schilling asked, pointing to her drink.

“An Aperol spritz.” His face screwed up like she had said she was drinking pure sludge.

“It’s good!” Theo reached over, hesitating as if to ask permission.

Effie nodded her consent. He grabbed her glass and sipped.

It was an intimate gesture she’d expect from Hope, not a near stranger. His face went sour with the tartness.

“I think your condition has sullied your taste buds, Eggplant,” Theo teased. “Or everything you’re hearing and saying is somehow making that taste better. ”

Effie glared. “It doesn’t work like that. Whatever I’m eating or drinking overrides word tastes.”

“I’m lost,” Schilling said.

“Join the club,” Talia ribbed, another dare in her gaze before she took Theo’s palm and traced the contours of his hand, all the while fixing her predatory eyes on Effie. Talia turned to face Theo fully and held tight to his hand. “Come play pool with me, you promised.”

Theo sighed. “I did. We’ll be back.” They took their drinks and wandered to the nearest pool table.

Effie watched them a moment. They racked the balls, and Theo leaned over the table to break.

Talia craned her neck and planted a kiss on his lips.

Effie hated that she could tell just how much tongue was involved.

Suddenly, the coaster on the table became very interesting to her.

Schilling side-eyed her. “They’re not together,” he offered.

“Why should I care?”

“In case you did,” he said. “It’s more a pairing of convenience if that makes sense.”

Effie tensed but nodded. Her cheeks were on fire.

“Talia wants more than convenience,” Effie asserted. “She’s enjoying marking her territory.”

“Then why’d you come?” Schilling asked, and he seemed genuinely curious, not judgmental or condescending at all.

“Because I’m a little tired of my life being so plain,” Effie admitted.

She wondered if Schilling emitted some kind of truth-telling frequency because she’d never been so transparent in her life.

It could have been the kindness of his spirit or the sadness behind his eyes, but Effie felt like he was authentic.

Trustworthy. “So I thought I’d see what happened if I did something I wouldn’t normally do. ”

“And what do you normally do?” Schilling asked, and Effie was disarmed by his casual tone and willingness to chat. It put her at ease which nicely contrasted the swirling thoughts that usually accompanied the breezy exterior she forced on herself.

“Keep to myself, honestly. I bake, I craft. I taught Theo and Talia how to make faux stained glass. And when I’m not doing those things, I’m reading or trying to keep up with my loud, crazy family.”

“Sounds mostly peaceful.”

“Or reclusive,” Effie joked, but it was the truth. It had always felt easier to live within the boundaries of what she already knew than dare to see what else was out there.

Schilling laughed. “I suppose that’s another way to look at it. Maybe the recluse thing was working and now it’s not?”

“Accurate. Everyone else in my life is passionate about something. It drives them. I don’t have something like that. I guess I’m starting to wonder if I just haven’t found it or if it doesn’t exist.”

“And the only way to find out is by doing things you wouldn’t normally do. That makes sense.”

“Does it? I feel like I sound insane.” Effie hadn’t been out with anyone new in so long she wasn’t sure what boundaries existed in polite conversation.

“Not at all. I get it,” Schilling remarked. “For me, it’s okay not to have that something. I’m here to soak in what’s good about life. And just because I love a thing doesn’t mean I need to obsess over it or monetize it or make it my whole personality.”

“Yes! Exactly!” Effie nearly screamed. She hadn’t meant to be so loud, but no one had ever connected with her over this point before. She even drew a glance from Talia and Theo at the pool table .

Schilling laughed again, and it was melodic, like chickadees in the sunshine on a spring morning.

Effie allowed herself a flirtatious look at him.

He smiled back, and Effie thought it was a good thing that Talia tried to intimidate her by calling him over.

He was cute, fun, sweet. Talia’s tongue wasn’t down his throat.

Schilling tasted like pennies, but that wasn’t terrible.

Besides, his first name could be better.

Even still, she couldn’t help but glance over at the pool table.

She timed it perfectly to catch Talia playfully squeezing Theo’s ass. Effie didn’t wait to see how he responded, turning her attention back to Schilling. “You sure you don’t care?”

“Definitely. I’m having fun talking to you. Must be the real reason I came out tonight,” Effie mused.

“A believer in fate?” Schilling asked, and the sadness in his eyes deepened.

“Usually, but I also think that sometimes the way of the world is pure chaos.”

“I feel more aligned with chaos than fate myself lately.” He definitely seemed sadder now.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Effie inquired, knowing her ear might be all that was needed to turn his spirits.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you with it,” Schilling said before taking a long pull from his beer.

Effie considered telling him to bore her.

But she knew a deflection when she saw one.

It didn’t matter that he was probably compelled by the same guilt she was when she didn’t want her grief to sully the mood.

He didn’t want to talk about it, so she wouldn’t force him.

Instead, she asked, “So, do you come here often?”

Schilling smirked. “What a line, Eggplant! ”

Effie turned ten shades of red. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” he chuckled. “But yes. This is kind of our only haunt in town. Everywhere else is trying to be some high-end mixology bar when I just want a cold beer.”

“Fair enough,” Effie said. She sipped her drink to bridge the silence that followed. It dragged on long enough that Effie wondered if she’d ever think of something else to say.

Instead, Schilling interrupted her rising social anxiety by asking, “How are you with candle making? Is it in your crafting repertoire?”

“Actually, yes. I’ve taught a couple workshops and pour my own at home. Why?”

“My mom’s birthday is coming up and she is nuts for scented candles. Always burning one. Her favorite, though, is nearly burnt out, and the shop that she found it in went out of business. I was wondering if I could recreate it.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Effie said with admiration.

“I like getting people thoughtful gifts, not stuff.”

“Well, I think I can help with that,” Effie asserted. “But we’ll need the nearly dead candle to try to recreate the scent. How’s Friday? We can do it at the store after closing.”

“Do what at the store after closing?” Talia purred, eyebrows raised high over her sultry silver-blue eyes. She and Theo resumed their seats at the high-top, fresh drinks in hand.

Effie didn’t bother to hide her glare this time, fed up with Talia’s teasing. The rise in Effie only seemed to please Talia more, though, so Effie spat, “Making candles.”

“Aren’t you just Martha Stewart in lace?” she goaded, eyeing the modest, cream top that Effie wore. Effie wanted to rip the smirk from her face. Theo didn’t even seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. It was Schilling who came to her rescue instead.

“And the last time you made anything but a Cup O Noodles, Talia?”

“Oh bite me, Schilling.”

“Wouldn’t dare,” he countered. Effie smiled at him, grateful for his intervention.

Maybe Schilling was the reason she came out tonight.

It might not have been fate, but it felt like something.

“Friday sounds great,” he said, turning his full attention back on Effie.

Something like hope bubbled in her chest, and she did her damnedest to keep the door to it open.

Theo hiked the stairs to his one-bedroom apartment in the old mill building right outside of Market Square, a fairly drunk Schilling behind him. After Effie left, claiming she needed to get up early, Talia insisted they do shots.

As Theo unlocked his front door, he was certain Talia had hoped to get him drunk enough to take her home. To her dismay, he led Schilling through the door instead.

They wandered into the modest space and sunk into the old leather sofa that sat opposite the exposed brick wall of his combination kitchen and living area.

Theo leaned his head back. Under normal circumstances he would have brought Talia home, shots or not.

It had been his intention all night. But when he had the choice to lay with Talia or offer his sofa to his drunk friend, he chose Schilling.

He’d likely hear about that when Schilling was sober enough to call him on it.

Currently, Schilling stared blankly at the wall, hugging a pillow.

“All set, buddy?” Theo asked .

“Fine. You’re not though.”

Theo scowled. Apparently, sobriety wasn’t a prerequisite for Schilling’s insights.

“You like her,” Schilling said.

“Talia is fun, but we don’t have the same priorities. We’ve been over this.”

“Not her. Eggplant.”

Theo choked on a laugh. That was rich. Schilling had been the one talking Effie up all night, making plans with her.

Theo was just trying to make amends for ruining a tote bag.

He wasn’t thinking about Effie in any other way.

She was merely an annoying client he had to see tomorrow, never mind that she was nicer to look at than most. And if him flirting with Talia bothered her, then she could have declined his offer.

“Yeah, right,” Theo rebuffed. “She’s barely tolerable. ”

Schilling raised his hands in defense. “Seems like it bugged you when I asked for her help.”

“If anything, it made me question your sanity.”

“Ouch,” Schilling muttered before letting out a yawn.

Theo rose, giving Schilling the rest of the couch.

Poor guy couldn’t hold his liquor, but people seemed to be drawn to him for it.

His personality wasn’t born on the bravery of booze but rather in the authenticity of his character.

He patted Schilling on the shoulder as he went by, muttering, “Sleep it off.”

Schilling laid down and Theo shuffled into his own room.

He pulled off his shirt and pants, climbing under his comforter in just his boxers.

He settled in to sleep, all the while insisting to himself that he’d take Talia home next time, and that her not warming his bed tonight had absolutely nothing to do with Effie Thatcher.