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Tillie sits back against the cushion. “What will you write back?”
“I have no idea. He didn’t give me much of an opening here.”
“You can talk about the cat.”
“I could. Oh, I don’t know. I should wait till tomorrow, anyway.”
Tillie drums her hands on her thighs, a concerned expression on her face. This isn’t like her. Tillie doesn’t get nervous. She’s a hellcat. She has to be to survive at that Podunk bar.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Our lease is almost up,” she says.
This doesn’t sound good.
“And I’ve been worried about Lila. I’m thinking about moving in with her to help with the pregnancy now that she’s alone.”
“Oh.” I won’t have a roommate. I can’t afford this two-bedroom on my own. “Why can’t she move back here?”
“I’ve tried. She won’t do it. She thinks Dodge is coming back, and she should be there.”
“He better not.”
“I know.” Tillie rests her head on the cushion, chin thrust toward the ceiling. “My boss said he’s got a friend with a bar not too far from her rent house. I could work there.”
“You already have a job there?” Panic flashes through me, hot and prickly.
“Ensley, you’ve got this. You can get your own place, a smaller one. You know you can.”
“But I’ve never lived on my own.”
“It’s about time. We’re all grown.” She drags me close, her arm around my shoulders.
My mind is already racing. Who else could I ask to move in with me here? So many of my friends are already settled down.
Of course, there’s Janet at work. Ha.
I could do an ad. Or maybe Tillie is right. I can find something smaller. I did get a raise when I was promoted.
Do I want to live alone, though? I go crazy if I don’t have anyone to talk to.
“It’ll be all right,” Tillie says. “You’ve been here for me, and I want to be there for Lila. The bigs and the littles all do their share.” She’s quoting Mom, even though she only learned the phrase through me.
My throat gets tight. She’s right. I’m being greedy.
“Tillie?”
She turns back to me.
“Can you bake some cookies?”
Her gaze rests on me a moment. She knows what this means. I’m afraid. And when I have fears, warm cookies remind me that there is a safe place, like Drew’s kitchen. Like Drew. It’s so wild how life has circled back.
“Sure.”
I start typing a response to the kitten picture.
I have to admit, I’m jealous of Snowball. Not because she’s on your bed—ha, ha. Okay, maybe that, too. We have unfinished business, don’t you think?
