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Back in the kitchen, Sarah was leaning against the counter, rather than at the stove checking on the large pot of chili as she had been just minutes ago. Her face was drawn. Abby was standing beside her, speaking in hushed tones, and rubbing her friend’s arm.
Tildy wasn’t sure if she should stay or go, but then both women looked over at her. She bit her lower lip. “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.
Sarah shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Abby remained silent, apparently not wanting to speak for her friend.
“Are you sure?” Tildy asked, and felt stupid for asking. Of course something was wrong. What Sarah was trying to tell her was that it was none of her business. But Tildy had spent the last two years helping people. She translated rental agreements and quizzed people to prepare for their driver’s exams. It was habit now.
Sarah sighed. She didn’t seem irritated, just weary. “We’re trying for a baby.”
Tildy nodded solemnly.
“I’m just impatient,” the other woman said. “I’ve waited so long for a normal life.”
Tildy frowned, not understanding. Sarah seemed to be weighing her words.
“Someone hurt me once,” she admitted to Tildy. “Like you but… worse.”
Tildy shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. It didn’t take much to imagine ‘worse.’
“And I was on the run for a long, long time, partly because I was scared he’d find me. But after a while I knew he wouldn’t. I was waiting until I could safely go home again. Then I realized home was here. Now that he’s… gone for good, I want my life to start, you know?”
Tildy nodded and leaned up against the island, across from the two women. “I’m still waiting for my life to start. Sometimes I feel like it never will.”
Sarah smiled. “It will, Tildy. I promise. Just give it time.”
Tildy shook her head. “We shouldn’t be talking about me. You’ve got real problems. Mine are just…” Tildy waved her hand dismissively. “Can I do anything to help?”
Sarah gave her a strange look and then laughed. Tildy blushed. “I meant with dinner. Not with the baby making. I think everyone’s aware by now I don’t know anything about that.”
“What’s Tate like?” Abby asked.
Tildy rolled her eyes.
Abby smirked at her. “That great, huh?”
“He’s not awful,” Tildy countered. “You know, he’s… ” She searched for words that would describe him, editing things like ‘boring’ and ‘conceited.’ “Well, he’s stable, and he has money.” She blushed furiously again, realizing how that made her sound. “Not that I care about that. The money, I mean. It’s just… that’s the plan.”
The Plan had always been there. It was talked about between her mother and father so much that, at times, it felt to Tildy like it was an actual, tangible thing. She supposed it was in some way; after all, she could sit down with a pen and paper and write The Plan as easily as she could write her own name. Get her finance degree, become Assistant Manager at the bank (she was almost there), marry someone ‘suitable’, and start a family. Tildy would replace her hours at the bank with hours spent raising her children, which was not a bad prospect in her eyes. Tildy loved kids. She assumed she would love her own more to make up for the fact that she didn’t love Tate.
Tildy shook herself and pushed off the counter. She didn’t want to talk about this anymore, especially since Sarah’s problems seemed much more important. Maybe it was better though to get her new friend’s mind off it entirely. She clapped her hands together. “Okay. So. Dinner? What can I do? Don’t make it too hard. Nothing that involves chopping. Or actual cooking, I’m likely to burn it.”
Sarah laughed. “You can use a whisk, right?”
Tildy pursed her lips. “Probably.”
Sarah rolled her eyes.
“I know what a whisk looks like,” Abby added.
Sarah shook her head at both of them and began retrieving items from all over the kitchen, including eggs and a large bowl. “You both need lessons,” she declared.
“You’re already giving me lessons!” Abby pointed out.
Sarah’s tongue ran along her bottom lip. “Yeah, we might need to call in a professional.”
After Tildy was thoroughly convinced that she knew less about poker than she did about cooking, Hawk stood up and guided her toward the door with the others. She was loathe to leave, but she did have to work in the morning, same as the others.
Stepping out onto the Sullivans’ front porch, she paused to let her eyes adjust to the relative darkness. “Wow,” she said, looking up at the stars. “It’s amazing out here.”
Hawk nodded and descended the steps. “Slick loves the stars,” he told her. “She can’t live anywhere she can’t see them.”
Tildy followed him to the driveway. “I don’t blame her. Who doesn’t want a good view?”
“Exactly,” Hawk replied. His voice was so low that she lowered her gaze from the stars to him. He’d turned to face her, and the look he was giving her made her stomach flutter.
