Dancing with a ghost

“Yeah, some ice would be great.” After the initial shock, Heather fully grasped that yes the other woman had ruined her own shoes as well. “I hope that wasn’t hot. Wait, how is that your last good pair? Do you only have one pair of shoes, or does this happen often?” She carefully walked the few steps to the trashcan to finally throw away her empty cup. Thankfully walking didn’t hurt any more than standing, so she had bruised her hip but not damaged the muscle.

"Okay I’ll be right back!”  Willow said shortly before going up to the counter and asking for some ice in a baggie.  Once it was given to her she immediately went back and handed it over. “Oh god no, I only drink iced coffee - even in the winter.”  The only thing worse than having coffee on your shoes would be having hot coffee on your shoes.  Willow couldn’t help but laugh at the next question.  “Well I work around a lot of motor oil so sadly stained shoes just automatically come with the job.”

willow-harris​:

 She rolled her eyes before exaggerating her words.  “Oh definitely.  Bobby Flay has nothing on my Buffalo Chicken Nachos.”

“Naturally, naturally–is it any good or just bad enough to keep you comin’ back for more?” Ronan was way behind on the new releases on the streaming platform. More often than not, it was Willow’s binge cycles that kept him in the loop of new releases. “Fuck, yeah man, that shit was no joke!” He said, snickering at her performance. The glass bottles clinked in the six pack as he tucked them in the fridge to chill. Taking in the state of the kitchen, he leaned against the fridge. “You got that right, Bobby Flay can suck it. Before we call him up and issue a challenge, ’s there anything you need help with in here?”

"At this point I genuinely don’t think I know the difference.” She laughed, knowing full well that it didn’t matter to her what the answer to that question is.  “I will admit it did start with joke watching and then it got me hooked, so take that what you will.”  Willow shook her head at the memory, “Honestly I’m surprised you didn’t have to burn the bar down just to get rid of the smell.” Willow had to fight the urge to automatically turn down any help.  She was always incredibly stubborn, a side effect of living with her parents, but since meeting Ronan and moving to Edgewood she tried to curb that side of her.  “Sure!  You can get one of the big bowls and put the chips in it.”  Alright so it wasn’t a big task, but Willow genuinely thought she was getting better.  “Honestly it’s pretty much done.  It just has to cool down so we don’t burn the roof of our mouths.”

“Oh?” Charlotte quirked a smile. “Well as your new best friend, let me let you in on a little secret…” She said as she followed the other woman to the table, digging through her purse in search of the pen (which should’ve been easy to find since it was still in the packaging). “…I never carried these a day in my life until I found myself hanging out with some of the PTA moms. They’ve seen it all, no accident catches them off-guard.” At the table, she set down her drink and started sifting through her purse with both hands. “A few brunches with them and you’ll be learning all kinds of life lessons–at least, that’s what happened to me.”

"You know I always felt that the PTA moms had their lives together, I guess that’s what happens when you’re in charge of an entire human being.”  Willow laughed as she started dabbing at her shoes to get the extra liquid off.  “But please tell me how you managed to get into the sacred brunches! I wouldn’t think they would let just anybody in there, you must have really gotten on their good side.”

Heather did not like coffee nor coffee shops, but people loved the shops as meeting places. She did have a decent tea while talking to her source, and was walking to throw her cup away when someone  turned around way too quickly. Heather jumped to the side to avoid the woman, and exclaimed “Ouch!” when her hip painfully hit the corner of a table. Rubbing her hip, she snarkily replied, “And that was my last decent hip.” She looked down at the coffee spill that would have hit her if she had not moved. That may have been preferable to stabbing her hip though. “No, I gracefully dodged the coffee right into a table.”

Willow frowned as soon as the other brunette said she had hurt herself.  “Shit, I’m so sorry.  Do you want me to go ask for some ice or something?  I’m sure they have some sort of bag they can put it in for a make-shift ice pack.”  Willow cursed herself for being so careless.  “Or at the very least let me buy you a muffin or something to make it up to you, I feel absolutely terrible.”

Normally Maggie made her own coffee, or grabbed a burnt cup from work. But this week had been a long week, and it was going to be an even longer day if she didn’t have some kind of overly-sweetened, barely even coffee anymore drink. (Also she’d run out of her preferred blend at home and she’d rather buy an overpriced drink than drink Trevor’s gross roast, thanks anyways). She figured if she was going to treat herself, she might as well go all out, which is why she always ended up with something often fondly labeled as an ‘abomination’. “Missed me. You didn’t even get a sip of that, did you?” She said, looking mournfully down at the remains of Willow’s drink. Then Willow’s comments about her shoes registered. “Um… I think I have a pair of slides in my bag? I know it’s the winter. But. Better than coffee shoes?”

"Just a small one to make sure the mixture was perfect.”  Willow sighed sadly, mourning for the lost perfect cup.  “I’m glad it missed you though, would be a shame to ruin two perfectly good pair of shoes.”  She was about to resign that today was just going to be an off day when Maggie went and offered an extra pair of shoes.  “You’re my hero, you know that?  It definitely is better than coffee shoes.  Honestly I am going to start bringing an extra pair of shoes just in case something like this ever happens again, you’re a genius.”

“Hey! Good, good–lotta the same old, same old. You?” Ronan returned as a greeting, flashing a smile at Willow. He bumped the door closed with his hip and followed her into the apartment with the rest of the grocery haul. “Oh when it’s done right, absolutely. Someone at the bar made some for New Years’, did not turn out great.” The smell still clung to some parts of the bar, but Ronan caught a whiff of her creation and perked up. “That smells awesome though, am I talkin’ to the next Iron Chef?”

"Honestly about the same.  Started a new Netflix show so that’s of course what I’ve been letting consume my waking thought.”  Willow laughed as she placed her items on the table.  Sure she should have been used to the small town life by now but she got bored every now and then.  “Well if we’re going by smells alone then I guess I do have them beat.  I remember walking in the next day and having to walk out right away.”  She rolled her eyes before exaggerating her words.  “Oh definitely.  Bobby Flay has nothing on my Buffalo Chicken Nachos.”

Sipping her own frappuccino in a still-waking-up kind of daze, Charlotte crashed back to reality suddenly when the other brunette stumbled in front of her. She looked around to survey the damage done and let out a quiet sigh of relief when she found nothing–on herself, at least. “No, I don’t think so, everything looks okay over here,” She said, quickly turning her attention to the other. “Here, let’s grab some napkins and soak up what we can. I’ve got a stain pen in my purse, maybe we can still salvage them.”

"Well that’s good at least.”  Willow chuckled slightly, still not sure how she could be so clumsy.  When the other spoke up and offered help, Willow couldn’t help but give a huge sigh in relief.  “You are possibly my new best friend right now.  I never remember to get those pen things and clearly I have not learned my lesson.”  Willow gathered as many napkins as she could physically hold and followed the other to an open table to begin their work.

Ronan felt his phone buzz at the end of the aisle and pulled it out. He let out a chuckle as he read it and typed out his response.

To Willow:  Haha sounds awesome, I’ll grab a couple bags And some beer, because why not See you in a bit! 

Wheeling back toward the snacks, Ronan added the chips to the cart (already full of beer, cereal, and toilet paper–bachelor pad essentials) before hitting the checkout and loading up the car. The drive to Willow’s apartment wasn’t far, and even though downtown traffic made it feel longer than it actually was, his usual parking spot in the visitor section was waiting for him when he pulled in. Chips and beer in hand, snow and salt crunched underfoot as he marched to the building door and buzzed the number for her apartment. 

Willow grinned when she read his response, happy to just have something to do on her day off.  Plus any day spent with Ronan was a good day in her book.  She was making the last needed touches to her dip when the buzzer sound went off.  She ran to the front of her place and let him in. “Hey how are you?”  She greeted before immediately helping unload the groceries he brought in.  “Please tell me you’re a fan of buffalo chicken because let me tell you this has to be one of my favorite things I’ve made in a while.”

Having given up on translating Cameron’s handwriting, Ronan fired of a text to him demanding typed up shopping lists in the future. Just below his brother’s name in the list of messages was a name he hadn’t heard from in a few days. Ronan opened the message thread and typed out another message:

To Willow: Hey I’m at the store by you, need anything while I’m over here?

@willow-harris​

Willow was standing in front of her open fridge trying to figure out what she wanted to make for herself.  It was her day off and frankly she always felt a little lost when she didn’t have anything to do.  Luckily just as she was deciding on her meal, she received a text from Ronan.

To Ronan: Sure! If you buy some chips I have enough fixings here to make us a good meal.  Think of it like nachos on steroids.

She didn’t wait for an answer before she started on the dip, knowing it would probably be done by the time he arrived.