Page 12 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls

“Enjoy. We’ll get started after we eat.”

“Are you going to miss the peacocks, too?”

A similar wistfulness dimmed Skye’s smile during the transaction yesterday. “I do. They’d been here for three years, and I’m so used to them greeting everyone, like two guards. But you know Luce. She’ll replace them with something else.”

She would. They’d filled rooms in the Florentine house, as well as a storage rental and their shed, with unreleased pieces.

With a semi-satisfied mumble, Thalia unwrapped her sandwich and trudged back to the register. Skye bit into her own,now uninterested in her worksheet. She almost called Thalia to return because when her mind wasn’t on work, it was on the encounter last night.

When 1:30p.m. rolled around, Skye had already coordinated with the couriers carting off precious artwork, including two peacocks. It hurt Skye to wrap Amie and Eduardo like mummies, but she settled on the bright side: if other people appreciated their beauty, these birds were in good hands.

The ground floor of Yield for Art offered a small food court, in addition to takeout spots within walking distance. Thalia developed an affinity for their shop’s closet/break room combination. She’d grabbed something simple to eat—no sauce, no seasoning, no cheese—and as she closed the door, Skye heard the opening theme of a227episode playing on Thalia’s phone. Thalia disregarded any show that came out after the year 2000.

Luce wouldn’t hold her tongue for a half-assed display; Skye took extra care to pose purple X items charmingly now that so much space had been cleared out. She stood back with her head tilted, wondering how their backup inventory would suit the gaps, when someone entered the shop with a ding of a wind chime.

Rather than a customer, June Christensen sauntered in like she staked a claim there. She kind of did, having known Luce since she was a teen. A baseball cap tightly hugged her scruffy hair, a too-little-too-late accessory to the bright red sunburn on her cheeks. It matched her shoulders, where her T-shirt sleeves had been cut off.

“Oh no,” Skye met her at the counter, eyeing her like a science experiment gone wrong. “Forgot the sunscreen?”

June shrugged, wincing. “Maybe.”

She was far too pale to play those games; the sun had beef with most of the Christensens. Skye offered a seat behind the register to get a better look at her.

Skye tipped up the cap brim, mussing some of June’s short hair. “What have you done to treat it?”

“Zini applied aloe vera. I swear this isn’t as bad as it looks. I’m not blistering or anything.”

Zini or Zinnia, June’s fiancée, doted on her daily—a must for June, who worked outside. Intent to play her part, Skye offered her tumbler. “Okay, good. You should stay hydrated.”

“I am, I promise.” Regardless, she unscrewed the top and downed a loud gulp. “See? Drinking. Water.”

Skye smiled, straightening trays of mosaic hair clips on the counter. “Glad you stopped by. Today’s been busy.” She gestured to the emptier entrance. “We sold the peacocks.”

“Not Amie and Eduardo!” June stood for a second to check, her hazel eyes frantic. “Damn, somebody must be rich.”

“You’re telling me. They were forty thousand each.”

June gave a low whistle, pulled her cap off, and swooped her sweaty hair forward. “Can’t believe I caught you. Thought you’d be chillin’ in a tree.”

Skye gazed at their row of windows. They’d tinted them and put up curtains to curtail extreme glare, but anyone could tell the sun beamed as seductively as ever. Sighing, she continued tweaking the trays misaligned by shoppers rooting for preferred colors. “If only. I haven’t eaten yet.”

Like many historical buildings around Yielding, the town preserved as much nature as possible, like the wooded area behind the collective. On breaks, Skye often perched on a low branch to enjoy her lunch. Sometimes she’d share with creature friends, though she avoided it for larger ones like deer. If shefinished quickly enough, she’d fiddle with one of her projects. Or daydream until her phone timer went off.

“Tariq’s out today. You wanna help me load a bunch of potted flowers into the van? I’ll buy you lunch.”

Skye swayed, mulling it over. June wouldn’t go out of her way like this unless she needed it. Tariq was a strong guy, but Skye could handle some plants. “Okay, I could use a flower break.”

“Great. I got gloves your size.” She stared at Skye for a short moment, adding, “I tried calling last night. Didn’t get an answer. Everything okay?”

“Life’s the same. I locked myself out of the car yesterday and...” Skye didn’t mean to trail off. Only, she hadn’t quite processed the whole Celene thing—not that she was athing. Just, Skye needed more time to study the interaction with her old friend under a microscope, see why it sparkled as it did.

June’s mouth dipped open, treating that as a cliffhanger. “And? And...you walked home? You had to break your window?”

“No, nothing like that. I was foraging for berries, lost track of time.” Skye waggled her brows for June to smile, not outside the norm. “I noticed my keys missing, and by then, it’d gotten dark. Um, a woman?—”

“A woman, you say?” June’s favorite topic.

“Yeah, an out-of-towner. Or so I thought. She pulled over, got out her flashlight, and helped me find my keys.”