Chapter 17 Rules and Regulations #2
"I saw," Tilly said as she served the steaming macaroni into floral-patterned bowls. "Not enough people in our town will sign that."
Jen's arching eyebrow disagreed.
"You think they will?"
A moment slipped by as Jen rearranged a bright green stemmed flower before she answered.
"I think that when people are told to be scared and pointed in a direction, they more often than not follow." She kissed Tilly's cheek and reminded her she'd swing by so they could walk to Lost Souls together later.
Tilly thought about that for the remainder of the afternoon as she tried and failed to fix her sister's doorknob and the shower in room fourteen that randomly turned on and off.
After calling Judy, and receiving a look from Judy when she saw the state Tilly had left the shower in, she smiled and also pointed her to the toilet in room eighteen that started producing bubbles with promises she hadn't tried any fixes.
And by seven thirty that evening, she was exhausted. Freida came at her expected time, silently and without returning the smile Tilly gave to her. She had with her a short, thick murder mystery and her water bottle with the lipstick-stained straw as she settled in behind the desk.
"Odd issues have been springing up around the place, so if anything is reported that can wait, just write it down and I will take care of it tomorrow," Tilly said.
Freida merely nodded once.
Tilly watched her, opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and then sighed as she left for the evening, sitting on the front porch step to wait for Jen.
She saw a yard sign that said, "Reclaim Salem," and she wondered at the meaning, wondered again at Jen's words about fear.
Cora was a good mayor. She had been good for their town, inviting different ideas and ways of solving town issues to create the town they loved.
The familiar sound of her bird friend drew her eyes up to the old maple tree.
"So, how was your day?" she peered up at the bird with a calculating look, waiting for her to answer her. Sadly, she didn't, but someone else did.
"You know, talking to birds is probably one of my new favorite things about you."
The voice made Tilly's head turn, hand to chest, and when she saw Ronnie smiling lazily as he stepped from the sidewalk to the inn's brick path, she had the sudden urge to go back inside and take her chances with Fae or Freida.
"Not even an acknowledgment or a hello? You wound me."
She frowned as he placed a hand over his chest, his faux look of pain on his face grating her nerves. Because this was him, faux. Was there anything truly authentic about him?
"What do you want, Ronnie?"
"Hey, look, I know missing our dinner date was an ass move."
"Wasn't a date," she corrected. She looked at her phone. Jen was only a couple of minutes late, but she texted that she was going to start walking so that she didn't have to confront whatever mess was happening inside of her because of him.
"Okay, well, I missed it regardless, and I was an ass," he amended, jumping in front of her and forcing her to stop. "And you're kind of acting like it was a date with how mad you are," he added in a teasing tone.
The annoyance was immediate. The need to flee followed. She didn't want to confront this right now.
She wasn't sure she knew how, even if she had the energy.
"Ronnie, truly, I'm good. I don't have time for this."
"I'm sorry. I ran into an old friend, we got caught talking, and I lost track of time.
" He rubbed a nervous hand along the thick lip of his navy beanie, the movement sliding it up slightly.
It might have been her hopeful imagination, but his usually thick, unruly hair was not unruly or thick.
"You know me and time," he said with a shrug.
And there it was. That cute smile on a cute face with a shrug that begged people to forgive his shortcomings, which were no big deal.
Because they weren't to him. He might make others feel small, unimportant, even worthless and easily replaceable, but flash a dimpled smile, shrug, and ask for the favor of forgiveness, and all was right.
"Hey, sorry I'm late. Had a situation."
Twice now today Jen had saved Tilly from continuing a conversation she both didn't want or know how to have.
Ronnie's tight smile showed the slip of his ease as her friend sent a questioning look to where Tilly stood on the brick walkway. "You good?"
"Yeah, just ready to get home."
"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 who doesn'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.
"I think 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 the streets 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."
"Really?"
"He sucks, babe."
"Yeah."
Portia cawed above them and a cat joined the rest of their walk to The Lost Souls as night chirped around them.
"Ursula picked me a beautiful bunch of mint. Coconut mojitos?"
"Yes."
"Did you really hex his hairline?"
"Yep."
A text dinged on both of their phones, and when Tilly pulled it out, she stopped on the cracked sidewalk underneath the low-reaching oak tree where her crow sat watching as she clicked on a link, read a headline, and showed it to Jen before they quickly made their way to The Lost Souls House.