Chapter 5 What Now? #2
Until she received a text from her sister. Fae rarely reached out to her, as she was a busy stay-at-home wife with more important things to do, like organizing whatever neighborhood event was currently happening and keeping a gargantuan home social-media perfect.
Fae was three years her senior, and they had a tumultuous relationship on the best of days.
Tilly wanted a sisterly relationship with her.
She wanted to be able to reach out to her because she just got let go, and found out she would be homeless in a matter of days.
She wanted to see if they could coordinate breaching the hour distance between them to grab a drink together and talk about how hard life is.
But that wasn't the kind of sister she had.
Her sister had a small hand, however indirect and cruel, in her dating Ronnie.
In high school, when Tilly was a small, unsure freshman, she discovered that she enjoyed writing.
It was, perhaps, the way that she got out of her head the things her parents told her to keep in it.
She wrote stories with an unpracticed pen and hope blooming in her chest that one day she would do something with her words.
She told herself they were silly, juvenile stories, often revolving around people she knew.
One story in particular focused on a character named Joe Ronald, a popular jock a year ahead of her with light brown hair and blue eyes. And those blue eyes fell on a sweet, happy girl with long black hair, an American dad and a Vietnamese mom trying to straddle her identity.
Unfortunately, Fae was hunting for a way to punish her for an unmemorable transgression.
It's just a little hobby to make you feel better about not contributing anything significant to the world.
The words had stung, landed where her sister intended, and she had put down her pen to preserve the wound that pulsed deep inside of her.
More unfortunate was that Fae had decided to take her attack further and printed out copies of her short love story about Joe Ronald, handing them out like bright orange fundraiser flyers in their high school.
Most unfortunate was that Joe Ronald was clearly Ronnie, the sophomore jock with light brown hair and blue eyes who once nodded his head at Tilly in the hallway and left an echoing imprint that only a teenage girl could spiral from.
The humiliation was devastating. Ronnie himself laughed it off and, to his credit, was never unkind to her.
It was years later, after her divorce and relocation to Salem, that she felt her heart jump to her throat when one night on Jen's couch with a bulbous glass of red wine in one hand and fuzzy slippers on her feet as they read and ate pizza, she clicked into her dating profile to find he matched with her.
The Ronnie from high school.
After fifteen seconds of panic and then a glorious few minutes of adrenaline-pumping glee when she matched back with him, she told Jen about the boy she'd had a crush on in high school.
They laughed and giggled, emulating that teenage girl she once had been, and Jen encouraged her to get the ultimate revenge on a sister that Jen called 'Satan's asshat'.
And then she and Ronnie dated for seven months. Dated ended up being too confident a word for what she realized a month after it ended was him manipulating her with words and that his actions didn't match.
Where some men lie to women by saying they're looking for something serious to benefit their immediate needs, Ronnie did the opposite.
He told her that he wasn't looking for anything serious, that he wasn't in a place to settle down, as his travel blog was starting to take off. But he liked her. He told her he did, anyhow. And he wanted to spend time with her.
So, he made it clear that he wasn't looking for commitment. But his actions? Oh, his actions were a different story altogether.
What started as a breezy weekly hangout turned into three times a week, nights spent over at her small place filled up with sex and food, and conversation that veered on the deeper side of things.
He would ask about her childhood. Her relationship with her parents and sister.
He shared about his single mom and older brother.
When he asked if he could take them on a weekend getaway to Bar Harbor, she'd felt something shift. Something big and good. They'd spent the weekend in a seaside cottage, never once leaving to explore the small Maine town.
Now and then, when she sits still long enough, she thinks back to that weekend of sun-splashed pine wood floors in the middle of summer with the air conditioning cranked so cold that they sat on thick rugs in front of a crackling fireplace eating takeout and listening to playlists, even laughing about her high school short story that starred him.
Makes me feel kind of like a god being memorialized in words from an adoring freshman.
It had put a late band-aid over a long-ago wound.
But now, with context, she understood it for what it was. He liked the pedestal she put him on, starting at such a young age and leaving an impression so deep that resurrected years later made him truly feel like a god.
Had she treated him as one? Her a mere mortal who was lucky to be looked at by him?
Exactly one week after that weekend, when she had started thinking of more and a future, of a them... he stopped talking to her.
It had been tricky because he never changed his stance on not wanting anything serious with her. Not verbally. He didn't lie to her.
Not with his words.
A text with minimal explanation, no apology and arriving just when she'd started smiling into her coffee again.
Her sister's response to her pain had been unkind and unsurprising.
Tilly clenched her jaw at the text on her phone, bringing her back from that painful walk down memory lane. What are the chances that on the day she gets a wheel of misfortune card warning of trouble to come, both her former lover and her sister would pop back up into her life?
Fae: I think it would be nice to coordinate presents for Mom next time.
You went above and beyond, and while I chose a very nice present that she will love, yours overshadowed mine and it's like I didn't even try.
Which I did. It was, frankly, kind of selfish of you.
It took a lot of work to find that set in the exact color that she would like.
Not trying to be difficult, just check with me next time.
Tilly sighed, the sound dramatic even against the backdrop of the party.
"You okay?" Kelsea stood with head tilted and champagne glass, almost empty, daintily held in one hand.
"Yeah," she replied with a shake of her head and then a bright smile. She rarely talked about her family, and tonight was not the night to bring up the old baggage. "Who is that?" she asked.
Kelsea followed to where Tilly pointed toward a tall woman watching the room. She might not have been noticed in the crowd, except she was a stranger and dressed in a dark-tailored suit, not a shining outfit suitable for a gala.
"She looks like a federal agent," Kelsea mused.
Then the woman's dark eyes swung to where they were watching her and Tilly felt the crash. It was a brash collision. Dark, poignant eyes homed in. The way she was staring at Tilly...
And then the woman smiled slowly. Not a kind, friendly smile; it was one of knowing.
"Okay, that's creepy," Kelsea whispered.
The woman's eye contact and secret smile didn't falter as she swept a glass of champagne from a passing tray and then lifted it toward them before taking a sip.
"Maybe she knows Jen? They look like they could buy suits together," Kelsea offered with a smile, making the unease in Tilly lessen as she smiled.
Before Tilly could respond, Kelsea made a small growling noise in the back of her throat.
"Cover for me. Ken is here, and if he asks me out one more time, I am going to file a restraining order.
No is not code for try harder." Her voice was filled with anger-tinged annoyance.
Over the last few months, Kelsea had become a more settled-in version of herself.
Late twenties, though she didn't look a day older than twenty-one, she had gone through a lot, and there had been a quiet, self-tormented air about her that had dissipated.
Now, she smiled honestly and freely. Tilly knew that transformation well.
Tilly smiled with a laugh escaping as Kelsea tiptoed on her high heels, dodging behind people as she made her getaway.
The man of her annoyance stopped near Tilly.
He was handsome, early twenties, just out of college, and gave Tilly the impression of a puppy.
"Hey, have you seen Kelsea? I wanted to tell her congrats on her latest article. She's brilliant."
Tilly's smile was wide as she lied for her friend. "She may have had to step out. But I'll pass along the message."
The disappointment in his wide, greyish eyes was noticeable, and she grabbed a passing piece of cake for him, which he took with a half smile before walking off to talk to a group of people.
But her smile faltered when she heard Jen's voice say, "Chief, I'm honored you came out for the ribbon cutting. I didn't know that this was in your job purview."
Tilly's head swiveled before she could stop it, and when she saw Chief Landry standing stoic, without an expression on his face, nod at Jen, something inside of her clenched. What was he doing here?
"Hmm, the man looks good in a uniform, but gotta say the button-up dress shirt is not a bad look on him. You still avoiding him?" Eloise asked coyly, sidling up next to her, her smile partially hidden by taking a sip of champagne.
Taylor looked between Tilly and the chief. "You into the chief?" he asked.
"No!" Tilly blurted, then cleared her throat and took in a breath. "I mean, no." This time she said it calmly, slowly. Not convincingly, according to their eyebrows. "He was a thorn, if you don't remember, during that investigation a few months ago."