Chapter 28 Theses on Doors
Two days after Tilly and Theo's moonlight forest meeting she dressed in a blue sundress that was fitted on the bodice, then flared out at the hips in a perfect pouf.
It was blueberry festival day at The Crescent Inn and while she had been preparing for it for weeks, she was ready to get it over with.
Instead of excitement, she felt an undercurrent of dread and she couldn't deny the old friend of anxiety that had placed itself firmly inside of her, despite her years of kicking it out.
Persistent was one of anxiety's main characteristics, which she might applaud if it didn't mean that she was constantly forgetting herself in mid-thought or mid-action always circling back to check in on her anxiety.
She had picked up the habit of picking at her cuticles, something she hadn't needed once it had been kicked out and the door locked.
Jen had painted her nails the perfect purple blue the night before as they ate blueberry crisp in The Lost Souls living room with the fire practicing for the real autumn to make its way to the northeast.
With crackling sounds from the fireplace and flickering candles around the room, Tilly spoke of her night that bled into early morning with the chief of police and Jen, more than once, grabbed her arm with wide eyes and a happiness that could only come from a friend who shared in this kind of joy.
This was going to be an anniversary for their friendship.
Every year since Jen grabbed Tilly up into her orbit that first blueberry festival, they dressed up in blue, bringing their own woven baskets to pick blueberries and drink the blueberry punch, and then they would take their bounty home, wash and prepare a dinner filled with blueberries.
Every year their blueberry dinner got larger, until every seat around Jen's kitchen was filled and the overflow moved to the living room.
Today felt different. She was the one in charge of coordinating everything and there was an edge to the day.
The sun was covered by thick, grey clouds. The birds were quiet and the chill required a thicker jacket instead of the cardigan she'd hoped would suffice.
"I doubt you'll need all of the chairs and baskets you prepared for today," Freida said handing Tilly a notice that had tape on the top.
"This was on the door when I came in. Maybe you should cancel.
" She didn't look at Tilly. Just handed the page to her as she so flippantly suggested canceling the inn's most iconic event.
On the page was a kind of manifesto about the town no longer supporting The Crescent Inn, stripping away its historical society standing as it did not align with the values of Salem.
It was more than an unkind gesture as she needed that historical standing for funding particularly expensive, old repairs.
Freida was working an extra shift to help out with the festival as Tilly was planning on being outside all day. She'd suggested that she wear something blue, not forcing the subject when the woman gave her a look. And sure enough, she wasn't wearing blue.
Tilly wasn't sure why that hurt. Freida had been anything but an ally since she took over the inn. She'd been either avoidant or outright unkind. She made faces when Tilly gave her instructions that she ignored, blank expression without reciprocation when she was simply being friendly.
And now this was the thing that made Tilly truly feel dismissed after being made to feel disrespected.
She watched Freida in her white sweater, reading glasses hanging around her neck as she finished writing something in the planner on the desk before she picked up her paperback book.
The blueberry festival may not be as large this year.
It may only be a few people and she may have too much food and too many chairs and baskets.
But she stood in the foyer of the inn she had come to love, putting pieces of herself in each project she completed, healing with the house.
She looked at Freida, who made coming to work less than pleasant.
She held a letter in her hand, stripping her of Salem's support, and something shifted.
She was in the intricate crown molding she'd spent a week cutting and putting up in the living room. She was in the updated wallpaper whose installation had nearly given her a breakdown. She was in the freshly painted front porch and the new screens she'd learned how to replace.
And this inn was in her too. It had lovingly given her little notes over the weeks, with every project; words that had soothed an unsure soul and sanded over a rough start to a new life.
"Freida." Anxiety was rioting throughout her mind, telling her to just walk down the hall and leave well enough alone.
Well enough wasn't enough. She had worked hard, and she wanted good, brilliant, wonderful.
When Freida hummed without looking up at Tilly, simply turning the page of her book, the anxiety was quieted for a moment as something else took front and center: resolution.
"Freida," she said again, her voice calm and commanding.
Finally, the woman looked up and the annoyance on her face made Tilly smile; not her usual pleasing smile. This was a different smile. And Freida could tell.
The Grandmother clock chimed. The sound filled the beautiful foyer and slid around Tilly's ribcage in a gentle nudging. She saw a skeleton riding a horse, scythe in hand, roses around its neck, and a blood moon. The Death card.
Necessary endings. Transformation.
"Go ahead and grab your things," she said. When Freida frowned, Tilly's smile grew. "Thank you for all you've done at The Crescent Inn."
Freida's shoulders straightened, and she looked taken aback.
"Because really, while you have done a fine job as evening manager, what you have excelled at is being rude and unkind to me.
Unwelcoming. I have tried," she said shaking her head, all of Freida's microaggressions flipping through her mind, now in front of her replaced with shock.
"I have been nothing but respectful toward you and tried to accommodate your grouchy disposition that, as far as I can tell, has nothing to do with me. Maybe you don't like me." She shrugged.
Freida opened her mouth to say something but Tilly leaned her forearms on the front desk, making sure this time the woman looked her in the eyes. "But you don't know me. So you've made judgments and taken action based on nothing, which says more about you than me."
She straightened and softened her tight smile. "I am happy to write you a reference if you need. You did a great job with the inn. I just want to enjoy coming to work every day."
Tilly watched something flit through Freida's eyes, bright and fleeting.
She felt a few things from her - mostly anger and disbelief.
But something else small and dark and lonely crouched somewhere inside of Freida that Tilly, like every woman she'd ever known, knew well.
Shame. It was no large thing, and she wasn't sure Freida would ever take it to task and grow, but it was there.
Finally she nodded and stiffly gathered her things, reaching behind her to get her umbrella and raincoat.
She paused, opened her mouth as she searched for words finding none she could let go of, closed her mouth and nodded one more time as she walked out of The Crescent Inn.
The door clicked shut firmly behind her.
Tilly sagged back against the desk and let out a deep breath.
There was relief, of course. But there was something like disappointment ringing the relief so that she couldn't fully rest. First Fae and now Freida.
She stared at the door where Freida had exited for a few more moments and then finally with a nod of her head she pushed off the desk and got to work.
She had a blueberry festival to set up.
"See you in fifth?"
Bess nodded at her friend as she switched out her books. When she closed her locker, the sound of metal locking into metal filling her ears as she turned and startled at seeing someone leaning against the lockers.
"Jeeze, warn a girl before you go nineties high school slasher on me."
"You an old school slasher film girl?" Jeremy asked, the right side of his tall body leaning against the wall of maroon lockers.
She shrugged as her heartbeat kicked up, which she wouldn't admit. Out loud, ever. "Scream is a classic. What do you want?"
"You know, one of these days your words are going to get through my thick armor and really sting."
She gave him a look. He smiled.
She hated when he smiled. It was amazing.
"You don't have to walk to me to every class," she said as she started walking to her last period class.
"Because you're an indepent woman?"
She fought a smile and rolled her eyes. "Because you don't like me."
He sighed. "That excuse is getting old."
"What excuse?" She looked up at him confused.
"Just admit you like me. And you like me walking you to your classes."
She snorted.
He continued. "You like when I almost make you laugh. And I have definitely gotten you to let a few laughs slip," he pointed to her and she bit her lip. "You do an excellent job hiding them in your smile, though."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she argued.
"Fine," he said with a shrug. "How's Tom Hanks?"She did smile. "He's great. Great cuddler. He gets along with all the raccoons."
"Well, sure," Jeremy nodded, trying not to smile.
"Sleeps at the foot of my bed."
"Now, that seems a little fast," Jeremy teased and then frowned when he looked up to see that they had stopped in front of his last class. "Did you just walk me to geometry?"
"Have a good class!" she backed away, smiling big before she turned and continued, throwing over her shoulder to a confused and smiling Jeremy, "Learn some things!"
She was smiling wide, as she maneuvered her way through the crowded hallway.
"I don't think I've ever seen your teeth," a voice said to her right. When she looked she was surprised to see Ashley Cast walking too close and too in-sync with her to not be intentional.
"Yeah well, I want people to wonder if I'm a witch or vampire," she replied in a bored tone.
Ashley Cast was not friendly unless you'd made it through the hell that is the high school caste system to make it into her circle.
She wasn't exactly a bully, nothing that dramatic.
But she had evaluated her own time as priceless and not many could afford it.
"You're funny," Ashley said with a shake of her blonde head. Bess couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or inauthentic.
"How can I help you?"
"Oh. I just," she shook her head, as she deliberated on why she had decided to stick to Bess's side. "Jeremy."
Oh.
"Who?" She almost smiled as the girl frowned, questioning herself before she responded, "Jeremy. Bracker. In our class?"
"Oh yeah, runs track?" Bess feigned, thinking hard.
Ashley's frown deepened. "No, he plays football and basketball. He," she blinked, "he has become your, friend? I mean, everyone sees him walking with you."
Bess did smile then. "Ohhh yeah," she nodded. "What about him?"
Bess looked down at where Ashley had wrapped her hand around her forearm pulling them to a stop. People milled around them, though most slowed down to watch what was becoming a scene as Ashley towered over her and her nice and aloof persona was replaced by the one that knew would hold court.
"I don't know what kind of freak black magic you're voo-dooing around, and everyone knows you and your coven are using magic, but he's an innocent guy who you need to leave alone."
A flash of anger entered Bess. She was tired of this town. Tired of wondering when she stepped into its square if she would feel safe or persecuted.
Too many people didn't know how to feel until the wrong person in power told them.
"First, that's offensive. Magic and voodoo aren't interchangeable and you're throwing them around without any awareness to the sanctity of either or their cultural significance."
Ashley blinked. She looked like Bess was speaking to her in a different language, and once her annoyance outweighed her confusion, she leaned in, her fingers digging into her arm making Bess wince and try to pull out of her grip.
"Stop being a bitch. If you think you hold any cultural significance in this school, you're delusional.
Which begs the question of why one of the school's most popular guys is suddenly hanging out with your weird witchy self.
This town is doing exactly what it should have done years ago. Kick you and your freak aunts out."
Maybe Ashley was a bully.
Bess sighed. "Don't worry. Your boyfriend isn't into me." She wished those words weren't true. And she wished they didn't hurt.
People were openly staring now. Bess could see a few phones out. She wondered how much trouble she would get into if she hexed Ashley Cast.
"Want to let go of me before I take one of the videos many people are currently recording to the principal?"
Ashley's eyes narrowed dangerously before she finally threw Bess's arm like she was disgusted she'd even touched her. "Just leave him alone," she warned.
"Might have to tell him to leave me alone," Bess parried before she looked at the crowd filming and winked. "Hey, do you like pastel purple crocs?"
Ashley gave her a look. "What? No. Why?"
"Better start," was all she said as she turned and walked through the crowd that parted for the smiling Bess who left behind a gaping Ashley Cast, her mind filling in the blanks.
She smiled until it felt forced and the reality made her face shutter.
Because Jeremy Bracker, one of the most popular guys in her school, football and basketball player, surprisingly witty Jeremy was not into her.
She felt the weight of that settle between her ribs making her feel like the rest of her day was spent trying to not go through it woodenly.
It was a half day for summer school and after her last class ended she made sure to scan the halls for Jeremy, or worse, Ashley, as she took unusual routes through the school to get outside.
She didn't want to talk with Jeremy, to hear if he'd seen the video yet.
She didn't want to have to say the words that he didn't really like her out loud again.
The words were briars inside of her head and out loud they were too much to bear.
Once she was far enough down the street from the school, she breathed easier.
Aunt Tilly had asked for her to help with the blueberry picking event so she went straight for The Crescent Inn sending her uncle Jay a text reminding him that she'd be home late.
But when her phone buzzed with a text it wasn't from him, but Jeremy.
She quickly stuffed her phone into her backpack without reading it and continued on her way.