âAfternoon there, Sister Lila.â One of them said with a tip of his hat, some of the others chuckling under their breath. Theyâd each seen her in all sorts of positions, she could see them already contorting her body in their mind to their desire. She walked over to the cooler wordlessly, grabbing a beer and daring one of them to protest. The one who called out to her offered her the rest of his cigarette to which she obliged.
âFestival not your kind of fun?â The man asked as he lit another cigarette, giving Lila a wink. Lila took a deep drink from the beer followed by a long drag, her stare slicing right through him.
âChris, you donât tip well enough for me to entertain you if I donât have to. Can we stop pretending like youâre funny and just enjoy a fucking beer?â Lila looked away from him when she spoke, ashing her cigarette to add emphasis to her words. The others bursted into laughter, one of them clapping his hand on Chrisâs back with a dull thwack. Chrisâs expression only soured for a moment, quickly passing when he threw back the remainder of his beer and reached for a new one.
âAnyone going into town soon?â Lila asked after a moment, providing no more context than that. Her voice was soft but demanding, winds that could move mountains. It had always been her most marketable feature, especially to those who enjoyed a bit of degradation to reach euphoria. âDonât all jump at once, come on.â
She didnât wait to see who was following, throwing back the last of her beer and dropping the empty tin can on the ground. Sheâd probably end up being the one doing the clean up afterwards anyways. The grass crunched beneath their feet as they walked back towards the lot, most of the vegetation dead and decaying. It always kind of seemed that way around here.
âDo I get anything for my charity to the church?â
âChris, the fact that I let you be within five feet of me without payment is charity.â Lila put her cigarette out, hopping into the cabin of his truck. He threw a pack of marlboro red in the cup holder as he got behind the wheel. Lila grabbed the pack and lit another, one of her legs bent to lean against the door slipping the hem of her dress past her silken thighs. Knew just how much to give to keep them bending over backwards to please her.
âWhere ya headed to?â He asked as he shifted from park, doing his best to keep his eyes behind as he reversed and not on her thighs.
âJust drop me at Biscuits,â She rolled down her window, hanging out her hand so that the smoke didnât linger. All too aware of his gaze, Lila shifted to elongate her features. Knew the more men desired her the more money she made. It was all business to her. Lila never cared for men. They were usually too frail, too simple for her taste. Not to say some of them werenât pretty. Father Friday and his hubby were proof enough of that. Most of them were just terribly disappointing, so Lila just held no standards for them anymore. Canât be disappointed if you have no expectations.
Chris knew better than to push his limits. Knew if he paid the piper heâd have his turn to do whatever he wanted and more to her. Maybe thatâs why he seemed to enjoy her cruelty, made it more satisfying when he could buy her time. She didnât even say bye when he dropped her off, just tucked a cigarette behind her ear beneath her habit and hopped out - not so much as a thank you before walking away.
There were a few places that werenât such a hike back to the church where Lila could have gone, but she didnât want to risk crossing Mother Constanceâs path. Lila was a veteran among the other workers, but it only made Constance tougher on her. Lila had never been the type to bend to discipline so thereâd been some animosity that had grown over the years. Besides, they had a mean cherry pie.
Thereâs only one seat left at the corner, Lila recognizes Old Man Lou sitting in one. Lila smiles as she takes a seat beside him. Lou was one of the only men in Edenholle that werenât a complete shitshow, though he was more of a relic to simpler times than anything else. He looks back to his paper after giving her a nod of acknowledgement, murmuring a âSister Lilaâ.
She looks around for Waylon, figuring sheâs have a cherry pie and coffee incoming any minute because Lila would never leave Biscuits without either. The place was one of the few places that drew new faces, a rare place of respite in this wasteland. She would be remiss if she didnât take a moment to seek potential new clientele, even if Lila sought respite from the ongoing facade she perpetuated to facilitate her income. It grew more and more difficult to turn off. There wasnât much else to hold onto anymore.
When she noticed the woman beside her, it took Lila a moment to reason why she hadnât seen her sooner. While Edenholle had a strange pool of genetics that had led to an extraordinarily rare collection of gorgeous faces, this woman was something else. The soft edges around her eyes were familiar, the barriers blurred but Lila could recognize the walls around them. Plenty of new people passed through here, few looked like her, fewer stuck around.
There was already an empty mug at her place setting, Lila grabbing Louâs canter of coffee and pouring herself a mug before he could protest - not that he would. In a way they all felt like family, this little town. Lila was the bothersome little sister that took what she wanted and apologized with a wink. Looks over at the blonde beside her as she mixes in a sugar and two creams into her coffee, her spoon clinking against the porcelain.
âBlessed day,â Lila says to the woman after a moment, giving her a warm smile; feels a sharp warmth when the woman looks up at her, realizes how blue her eyes are. The religious garb always gave Lila confidence when talking to strangers. People just were more likely to feel a sense of obligation to the cloth. âAre you in town for the festival at the Church?â