Page 107 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls

“When we used to play at the Vale house, I always felt out of place.”

Celene nodded. “Same for me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t feel that anymore. Not even when Elise and Ajay were there.” Skye seemed to be searching for something in Celene’s eyes, and Celene could only hope she found it. “Youdid that.”

“Skye, god, thank you,” was all Celene would reply out of reflex. An overlooked subject came to mind, and she groaned. “Ugh. I hadn’t given you your presents yet.”

“You’re not required to bring me stuff after every trip into the city.” Skye’s smile brightened regardless. “Let’s go now.”

As Celene assisted in putting everything back in its place, she wondered if a day would pass that she didn’t want to give Skye any and everything. She wanted to give it all.

26

Skye dragged the pointy end of a comb through hair as rosy as the clouds in her dreams lately. She sprayed the part she’d branched off, its mist bright within the dark blue walls of the closet-break room. Two hours before closing time at Luce’s shop, Thalia produced the bone-straight pink wig from her satchel, fastened onto a plastic mannequin head.

“Style this, oh my heavens!” Thalia had begged, dumping a plastic bag of flexirods onto the table where she normally ate her unseasoned meals.

That same voice—minus the whining—sounded from the counter as she rang up a customer’s stack of coasters while Skye played hairdresser.

Thalia sprang news of a gallery opening featuring her paintings, hosted by herself. Occurring that Sunday—in two days. No planning, no guest list yet, just vibes. Very Thalia. Between tending to shoppers, Thalia pulled her laptop out from under the counter to mock up digital flyers. Based on what Skye gathered, Thalia would arrange the canvases in her backyard, along her chain-link fence.

Skye – 3:40 pm

Are you up for an art show this weekend?

Skye dried her hands on her apron when Celene responded minutes later.

Celene – 3:46 pm

Whose art show? Yours?

Skye – 3:47 pm

Lol. One day.

Thalia’s. It came to her in an epiphany yesterday.

Celene – 3:48 pm

Is this my first artsy Yielding date? How should I dress?

Skye – 3:50 pm

I’ll ask her.

I’m putting her wig in curlers for the occasion.

Celene – 3:51 pm

Reasonable.

The term ‘loner’ rarely came with negative connotations for Skye. As she’d loved her alone time, broken off from society in little pockets. So, it sort of surprised her how well Celene integrated into her life.

Seriously, how were two women devoted to their solo time working agreeably? Maybe it was the lack of “Are you okay?” check-ins when the other went comfortably silent. Or the sharedinterests in quiet hobbies. They didn’t strive to fill in the unspoken moments—they thrived in them.

These last few days consisted of Skye and Celene spending as much summertime together as possible. Reading in the hammock. Waking up every morning side by side. Being sounding boards for work-aligned woes. Expressing their worries in the thick of the night. Going on hikes, spotting bright yellow Goldfinches bouncing from branch to branch. Skye even walked Celene through two foraging trails using her pink twine, collecting chanterelles and berries. And, of course, indulging in each other’s bodies. Her jaw still pleasantly ached from the last one.

Skye made sure to visit home once a day for business upkeep and to catch up with Luce. Her grandmother seemed okay enough, though her actions hinted at some frustration about Skye being out. Which was laughable considering how, until this week, Luce was usually the one bidding her goodbye to run off to a social life.