Chapter 8 A New Start in an Old Place #2
"Stop it. One small consideration does not a good guy make," she reminded herself out loud.
Tilly: How about we meet there?
UnRelational Ronnie: Cool
Dinner with Ronnie. Okay. Not bad. She could handle that. He had hurt her, but she recovered and spending one evening with him wouldn't put her back in that place. She harbored no feelings for him other than the ghost of pain he left behind.
She hoped that if she leaned into those thoughts, they would become her reality, because if they didn't, she didn't want to think about how she would handle facing that kind of pain again.
"Hello!" a sing-song voice called from the front.
Then the swinging door was pushed, ushering in Judy.
She was wearing an army green jumpsuit in a thick jean material that looked both utilitarian and chic.
She was in her mid-forties, but the way that she bounced around life, you'd think she was still getting started.
Her blonde ponytail was high and reminded Tilly of Jessica's hair.
When she saw Tilly, her mouth stretched into such a warm smile that touched her eyes.
Tilly suddenly felt a burst of sunshine.
It was like being kissed by the sun when it knew you were cold.
"I heard you were taking over this old broad and I could not be happier." She pulled Tilly into a hug. The woman had half a foot on her. Maybe more. She was curvy, and Tilly felt enveloped in the best way. She smelled like a nice wood and bergamot.
"Can I get you anything?" she opened the fridge as Judy took a seat, avoiding the wobbly stool that Tilly made a mental note to get rid of.
"Oh no, honey. I just came by to get a list of things you think you might need help fixing around here. And I know there are things. Lots of things. I could start the list for you."
Tilly carried her glass of iced tea to sit next to her. By the sound of it, Judy had been waiting for this. "Why didn't you do them with Mrs. Ling?"
"Because Mrs. Ling only called me for large repairs.
The things she called wear and tear, she said she didn't want to bother me with.
As if being here however often as possible while doing my job is a bother," she said, laughing with animated shakes of her head.
"I come to the monthly book club here," she explained.
"My mom came to the book club before me when I was growing up, and the bridge club.
She came to the bridge club until she passed a year ago. "
"Sorry. I didn't know she passed," Tilly said. She wasn't sure who her mother was. She knew Judy. Everyone knew Judy.
"Oh, it was time. Dementia. She was barely living by the end. I said goodbye to her years ago. But that list," she said, changing the subject.
"Right! I have a few things that come to mind. The screen is ripped in a few places around the back."
"Let's start there!" Judy was up and walking toward the door as she told Tilly she'd take measurements and finish it by the end of the day. "Anything else you want to talk through before I get started?"
"Oh, and I'm supposed to find you a girlfriend."
Judy was standing with the door open halfway in the kitchen and halfway in the hallway. She burst out laughing. It was such a large laugh that even if Tilly hadn't been joking, she couldn't imagine not joining in.
"I'm going to miss that woman," she said with a shake of her head. "Oh," she popped her head back through the doorway, "I like women with a little bit of attitude." A wink, then she left.
Suddenly, the day was over and she had managed to create a to-do list that was daunting when looked at and flipped through, especially as she got to the fourth page. The sky outside was darkening - a quick look at her watch told her it was already a quarter past eight.
The night manager, Freida, was in her fifties and Tilly only knew her in passing. She came to the inn around seven, giving Tilly an odd look when she introduced herself.
It wasn't a leap to wonder if Freida, who had been working here for six years, silently questioned if Tilly was up to the job. Not so silently with her face.
She was of average height, with short, curling, dark blonde hair. She had on a navy blue cardigan with one button mismatching the others, like it had been replaced. Her glasses connected with a colorful bead chain, and she looked like she belonged behind the desk at the library.
Which she did. She also worked at their public library, and while Tilly had never talked with her, she had seen her shelving books and giving people stern looks if they got too rambunctious.
"Freida, I am going to head out."
Freida gave her a bland look. And then thoughts began running rampant.
Should she not leave? Did Mrs. Ling usually stay later? What if she hated her?
"Um, well, I left my phone number there for you in case anything wild happens."
Freida took a sip from her large, lime-green tumbler. Tilly watched her with that unease and fear of not knowing how this was supposed to go. Of wondering what was running through the woman's mind.
"Alright. I will see you in the morning. What time do you leave?"
Freida finished a long sip from the straw, then slid it slowly out from between her thin lips. A bright pink stain from what had most likely been on her lips before now was left behind on the clear plastic.
"Seven-thirty. Sharp."
She nodded. "Got it. Okay, then I will be here at seven-thirty." She pointed to Freida with a sly smile and added, "So sharp it will sting."
Nothing.
Alright.
"Night!"
And then she walked out the front door, down the too-old wooden steps, leaving behind what she hoped wasn't an angry night manager seething into her lime green tumbler.
She made it to the sidewalk that wound under the largest willow tree when her phone rang again. She briefly closed her eyes before she answered, putting on a bright tone.
"Hey, Fae!"
"God, do you not pay your phone bill or something?""Sorry, I've been busy. Lots going on."
"Okay," her sister said impatiently. "I've got a lot going on too, but you would know that if you answered your damn phone."
Her sister rarely cursed, so Tilly shifted her bag on her shoulder and settled in as she made the fifteen-minute walk to The Lost Souls House.
"What's going on? You okay?"
"No, Tilly, I am not okay. Dustin and I are in therapy."
This drew Tilly's eyebrows up sharply. Her sister voluntarily going to therapy? That was something she never thought she would hear.
"Wow. Well, that's good if it could be-"
"It's not good," she interrupted harshly. "He like, isn't happy or something and I'm sitting in a too colorful room with a therapist who looks like a smiling Morticia Adams who wears the wrong lipstick. Seriously, it's a garish pink that is unsettling against her skin tone."
"Okay," was Tilly's reply, letting her sister know she was following along with her story.
"But we're sitting there, and he's talking about things and how he needs more connection or whatever. Isn't that what women are supposed to want? He should be glad I'm not nagging him for that."
"The fact that he wants to be in counseling is a good sign, don't you think?"
A deep, very audible sigh filled her ear. But as her sister answered her, she didn't register the angry words because she felt something tickle the edge of her mind and then saw a black bird sitting on a low-hanging branch of a maple tree, its eyes following her.
Was that a crow?She frowned as she continued walking, her eyes trained on the bird who was staring back at her. She turned her head as she walked and tried to check back into the conversation that her sister seemed to be having just fine without her.
But then her head jerked when she saw something black fly by her, a mere few feet away from her head and she stared open-mouthed as she saw the crow fly ahead of her, keeping under the branches of the old maple trees lining the walk.
"Tilly? Tilly?"
"Sorry, what?"
"God, are you even listening to me? I said I think I'm just going to go to therapy, go through the motions, smile and nod, be a good wife, and then we can check it off our list. He should be fine."
"Yeah, sounds smart. Good marriage move."
But her sister didn't pick up on the sarcasm, and frankly, Tilly was more than distracted as the crow made a swooping loop behind her until it was flying in front of her again.
"I agree. Okay. I need to go. I swear, what we do for marriage. Talk later."
The call was disconnected, leaving Tilly thinking about her sister's marriage.
She didn't work. Her husband was a successful tech engineer and more than supported their classic northeastern small mansion coastal lifestyle.
Her sister filled her days with lists that Tilly could never imagine the contents of, but she was always so busy and had so much on her plate.
She kept her figure trim and lean, something she lorded over Tilly, who had gained weight that showed far quicker on her short frame in the last decade.
She would send her tips on dieting or thoughts about certain medications that could "help.
" Last month, she sent her an audiobook about hypnotherapy to lose the pounds, and Tilly had felt it in her chest for four days.
She'd seen the cover of the audiobook every time she picked up a bite of food and every time she drank anything other than water.
She saw her sister in her designer workout gear, imagining the beautiful and bold colors of lycra on herself, then feeling her heart squeeze at the mental image that didn't quite measure up to her sister's size two.
They shared their mother's and grandmother's delicate facial features: pert nose, large brown eyes with perfectly arched eyebrows.
But where Fae had sharp cheekbones, Tilly's were more apple soft, plumping in the cutest way when she smiled.
Which also gave her smile and laugh lines, where Fae had smooth skin without the happy lines.
She was walking up the steps of The Lost Souls when the crow landed on a tree branch needing trimming, as it was sliding into the front porch from the side.
"Are you following me? Because that's creepy."
The bird tilted its head but otherwise stayed silent and still.
Finally, she walked through the front door into a warm house that immediately felt like a hug. It was a relief after a day that had felt long and jammed full, like a folder with too many papers, some of them folded and cattywampus.
The kitchen was where she found three friends, all wearing pajamas and talking.
Ursula immediately slid her a mug of hot tea that smelled like bourbon-infused vanilla and chestnut.
She breathed it in slowly and let it fill her lungs, let her friend's chatter and the smell of chocolate chip cookies baking silence everything that had become loud inside of her.
Casper leaned his wiry body against her, placing his large head on top of the island, looking at her with his hound eyes. She smiled and kissed the top of his head, running her hand over his back as they talked and she filled them in on her first day at the inn.
The unspoken rule was that they were not going to talk about the night before. Three ominous strangers with their ominous threats. And frankly, it was exactly the kind of ignorance that Tilly needed tonight.
Tess showed up with homemade caramel pecan popcorn, and Bess made her put on a black cat pajama set that matched her own.
Then they ended up, her in a new set of pink polka dot pajamas that the house had conjured for her, sprawled on couches in the living room with a popping fire and vanilla candles burning, watching Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant bicker.
The day had been a good kind of exhausting, but tiresome nonetheless. Add in her sister and the particular energy she took, and sitting here with these women, no expectations other than to show up exactly how she was, felt like peace.
Ursula braided Bess's hair in a thick french braid, which prompted a hair braiding train, and she had Tess's blonde tresses in two short braids that looked endearing on her.
She wondered what Tess had been like as a little girl; messy hair, unfiltered smile, unable to name the hurts her parents placed at her small feet.
They laughed and ate too many cookies, then settled down as the night and movie wound to the last few minutes. Braided heads, and sleepy comfort, a plate with only crumbs after the last cookie was snuck by one of Lady Macbeth's kids with his cute little black hands.
It was only as she was helping put the dishes in the dishwasher did she realize that on her mug was a black bird.