Page 20 of Witches of Honeysuckle House
The spring in Tillie’s step slowed as she searched Violet’s face. “But?”
Violet sighed, looked both ways down Main Street, and said, “Why don’t we go somewhere quiet to talk.”
The diner was all black-and-white checkered floors and bright red seats. The counter wrapped around the left side of the room with jukeboxes every few stools, and Elvis Presley crooned from the speakers. A few familiar faces glanced their way as the bell rang overhead. By this time in the afternoon, the lunch rush was long gone and only people like Violet and Tillie, who worked along Main Street, or theoccasional housewife sneaking in an afternoon treat, stopped in. Barb raised a hand from behind the bar. Violet and Tillie waved before heading to their usual booth at the back. Thanks to the way the building angled, the table was almost out of sight from the rest of the room.
After Tillie took a seat, Violet slid in across from her, wishing she could nestle in beside Tillie without raising any eyebrows. She tugged the scarf around her hair free, pulled off her sunglasses, and carefully tucked both into her handbag.
When she looked up, Tillie had her hands pressed against the table. “Did you …” But before she could ask the question, Barb approached.
“My favorite customers,” Barb said with a warm smile. “What’ll you be having?”
“Just milkshakes today,” Tillie answered.
Barb nodded as she tucked the order pad into her apron and said, “Your mother told me you’re moving into Honeysuckle House.” Barb’s husband had died a few years after the war, and she’d never remarried. Most people commented on what a shame it was they hadn’t had children before he passed, but Barb only ever nodded and smiled. Violet had seen the way she’d watched her and Tillie over the years, always giving them this particular booth, once adorning it with a vase of purple flowers and a knowing smile.
Still, Violet felt heat rush to her cheeks as she glanced around the diner. “It’s a big house.”
At the same time, Tillie said, “I’ve been wanting to move out of my parents’ for a while now.”
All three women laughed softly.
“Nothing wrong with having a roommate,” Barb said with a twinkle in her eye, and for the first time that afternoon, Violet let herself feel the excitement of what they were doing. Soon, Tillie and Violet would be living under the same roof. They shared a look that sent heat clear down to Violet’s toes.
Barb gave a throaty laugh then said, “I’ll get those milkshakes for you.”
As she walked away, Tillie and Violet held each other’s gaze a few moments longer until Tillie leaned in and whispered, “We’re finally doing it.”
After this, they’d fill Violet’s car with as many of Tillie’s boxes as they could, then they’d be living under the same roof.
With Regina.
Violet’s stomach dropped as she looked away from Tillie. The possibility in the air fizzled out, and Violet’s smile slipped away. She loved her sister. She wanted more than anything to be able to bare her heart to her, but Regina had left little space for it that afternoon.
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” Tillie asked.
Before Violet could answer, Barb returned with their milkshakes and a plate of fries. “On the house,” she said, that same conspiratorial warmth in her eyes. Though Violet returned her smile, she’d lost her appetite.
Once she was gone, Tillie leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “Vi?”
Violet picked up a French fry, then set it back in the basket. She tapped her fingers against the table and avoided Tillie’s eyes and took a long sip of her milkshake that tasted more like sawdust than strawberry.
“We’re in this together.” The softness of Tillie’s voice burned right through to Violet’s heart.
Violet sucked in a breath and tilted her head back, trying not to cry. Things hadn’t gone at all how she’d hoped, and she still couldn’t shake the disappointment she’d seen in her sister’s eyes.
Tillie reached across the space between them, took a quick glance around the diner, and ultimately set her hand next to Violet’s instead of on top of it. Despite the inches of distance, Violet felt the comfort and strength in the touch she didn’t—couldn’t—receive in the warmth radiating from Tillie’s skin. She looked up at Tillie through watery eyes.
“I tried,” Violet said. “But it wasn’t the right time. She didn’t like the idea of you moving in at all.”
Tillie tapped the side of Violet’s hand with her pinkie. “Sounds like you didn’t let that stop you.”
“Of course I didn’t,” Violet said.
“I’m proud of you.”
Violet bit her lip to keep her tears from falling.
“Your mom would be, too,” Tillie said.
