"...and that's how I found out that those two were dating."
It was a week later and Willow sat at a cafe table across from Wigfrid, recounting the story to her friend. Although it was getting late soon, the two women made plans to meet up here and chat. Work had kept them busy and they hadn't been able to see each other earlier. Willow had been looking forward to their next meeting, and made small talk with her friend now to try to keep her mind off of the heart that was drumming away in her chest right now. Whether it was from excitement at seeing her or nervousness, she couldn't tell. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was something entirely different. Who knew?
"No. Fucking. Way." Wigfrid's eyes widened and she burst out laughing. "That's got to be the funniest thing I've ever heard!"
"You're telling me!" Willow chuckled and stirred the tea in the cup in front of her.
"So you're telling me that Maxwell took the 'fuck you' flowers you gave me and gave them to your brother, his boyfriend , as a romantic gift? Oh my god. That's wild. Did you at least tell him what they meant?"
Willow nodded. "Needless to say, he wasn't too happy to hear it. I wonder what Maxwell has to say about it, too, because I don't doubt Wilson told him what they meant."
"That's what I was thinking." Wigfrid took a sip of her coffee. "Are they doing okay now? Oh gods, I hope I didn't mess up their relationship."
"You didn't. As far as I know, they're doing fine." Willow shrugged. "I did hear him arguing with someone on the phone shortly after, but they've likely made up by now. And on that note, I may bring Wilson to a full version of your play once it's out."
"Oh, really?" Wigfrid smiled. "Aww, that's nice."
"Yeah, just don't take it personally if we step out of the room for a few minutes or leave early." Willow sighed. "Wilson's on the spectrum and he can't handle loud noises or super bright lights for very long."
"Ohh. That's okay!" The redhead waved it off. "I'm just flattered that you're bringing someone else to my show." She raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me if I'm hitting a nerve here, but is it hard looking after him because he's got...?"
"Autism?" Willow finished. "You can say it, it's not a bad word or anything. But no, not at all. He could live on his own if he wanted to, but we decided it would be easier on our bank accounts if we shared rent. We get along just fine, so it's really quite nice, to be honest." She chuckled to lighten the mood.
"Ah. I see." Wigfrid took another sip of coffee. "One of my sisters has a physical disability."
"Oh?" Willow raised an eyebrow. "How many siblings do you have?"
"Seven." The redhead replied, causing her friend to choke on her tea.
"Seven!" She gasped. "Sounds like a handful! Wilson's the only one I've got, not counting our half-brother Albert, but to be honest, we haven't heard from him in a while..."
"Sorry to hear that. And they really are, but I don't have to deal with them much anymore. They're back home in Iceland."
"So that's where you're from." The florist nodded. "I see. Cool. You know, I'm glad I met you." She admitted.
"You are?" Wigfrid blushed. "I'm glad I met you, too, you know."
Willow smiled sweetly. "Seriously. I mean, it's only been a week and a half-ish, and here we are talking with you like I've known you forever. I've always wanted to have a friend like that, you know."
"Yeah. It's nice." The redhead leaned forward. "Those flowers you gave me were really nice, you know. I still have them."
The other woman flushed slightly when she remembered the one orange flower she'd slipped into the bouquet. "Seriously? I'm a bit surprised, actually."
"Why? They were really nice. They've wilted quite a bit at this point, granted, but I still love them. And the orange one is a nice touch, too; it matches my hair!"
"Yeah..." Willow smiled nervously.
'She's so beautiful...' She thought, admiring the other's fiery orange curls and smile. She noticed there was a gap between Wigfrid's front teeth and thought it added a slightly childish touch to her otherwise strong and womanly appearance. Freckles dotted her cheeks like stars, and her green eyes shimmered with excitement as she talked. Willow didn't exactly consider herself a lesbian, but she knew she was definitely more interested in women than men romantically. She wondered if Wigfrid could tell that she wasn't the straightest nail in the carton and how she'd feel if she knew. Hopefully, should she ever find out, Willow wouldn't lose another friend for it.
Unbeknownst to the black-haired woman, her face had gotten quite red while she was thinking about the person sitting right across from her. The other noticed this and immediately became concerned.
"Are you feeling ill? Your face is red." Wigfrid commented. "Hey, Willow, pay attention. Are you alright?"
The other snapped out of her thoughts immediately and felt a little embarrassed. "I'm good."
"Doesn't look like it." Wigfrid cocked her head. "Do you want to head back to your place? I could walk you back, just to make sure you don't pass out on the way or something." She offered.
Willow quickly checked the time on her phone. It was 5:30, and the sky was beginning to develop the appearance of a brightly colored watercolor painting left in the rain. Maybe heading home now was a good idea.
"Sure." She sighed. "Let's go. Thank you, by the way, for meeting me here."
"No problem." Wigfrid smiled kindly, standing up behind her chair. "Come on, now."
Willow stood up as well and felt Wigfrid grab her hand. She flinched at the sudden contact and Wigfrid looked over at her.
"Sorry, I just don't want us to end up getting separated. You're okay with this, right?" Wigfrid looked over at her.
"Yeah, I'm good." Willow nodded. "Let's walk while we talk. So when's your first show going to be?"
"We'll be performing every Saturday and Sunday for the next three weeks, I believe." The redhead replied "Two shows a day. Our first one is tomorrow at four-thirty and the next one is at seven thirty."
"Okay. I think I'll be able to make it to the 7:30 show with Wilson."
"Fantastic!. And the fact that your brother's name is Wilson and yours is Willow is interesting. It's a more masculine version of yours."
Willow shrugged. "Our parents weren't the most creative people when it came to naming. He and I have the same middle initial, too."
"Oh, that's cool." Wigfrid replied, and they continued their walk in silence. Willow's heart was pounding so hard she thought it would shatter her sternum at any moment. Just a few seconds ago she was thinking about how lovely this person was, and now she was actually holding her hand. If she got a kiss on the front doorstep tonight, she'd probably go into cardiac arrest.
"Willow? Hey, are you sure you're alright?" Wigfrid's voice broke the silence between them.
"Oh. Yeah, I'm sorry. I must have spaced out. Sorry, Wigfrid!" The other woman chuckled. "Did you say something?"
"Yeah, I asked how far from here you lived." Wigfrid seemed concerned again. "I'm, like, dead serious when I say you're probably getting sick or something. Take an ibuprofen when you get home."
"Of course. Uh, my house is actually not too far. Just down the street and to the left of here."
"Ah, that's good. It's lucky we live in such a small town, you know. Everything's within walking distance."
"Y-yes, it's truly lucky, isn't it." Willow didn't think she'd be able to handle another second of hand-holding without it becoming supremely obvious that she liked her redheaded friend.
Once again, an awkward silence fell over the two. Willow realized that even though Wigfrid had made more than a few comments at this point about Willow being sick, she was still holding her hand.
'Perhaps I do have a chance with her after all?' The florist quickly pushed the idea to the back of her mind. There was not a chance in hell that that was the case, not after only knowing each other for a few weeks. Maybe in a month or two Willow would say something about her feelings, but until then, it was time to take her feelings and shove them in the trash compactor.
"We're here." The florist stopped in front of her home. "I know it's not the nicest in the world, but it's home."
"I quite like it." Wigfrid smiled. "Thank you for coming out with me tonight."
"Yeah, no problem. It was a lot of fun." Willow smiled back. "Well, see you later." She reached into her handbag to get her house key when the door swung open.
"Willow! I see you've brought a friend with you." Wilson exclaimed with a smug grin.
"Oh, you--! Not another word!" Willow groaned, embarrassed. "Don't mind him, Wigfrid, he's just being a pain in the arse!"
The actress laughed. "Ah, older siblings. I know what that's like." She gave the other girl a pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I get it." She walked up the front steps. "Nice to meet you. I assume you're Wilson, your sister's told me a lot about you. I'm Wigfrid."
"Pleasure to meet you. Willow's told me quite a bit about you as well." Wilson shot another smirk at his sister, who groaned again and hid her face in her hands.
"Yeah. I heard about the incident with the flowers." Wigfrid teased and now it was Wilson's turn to blush.
"You know, I'm not too offended by it so much as surprised." Wilson laughed. "Max was positively pissed when I told him what they meant."
"Wonderful. Just what I was going for." Wigfrid chuckled. "Well, thanks for relaying this information to me, but I'll be going now. It's been nice meeting you!"
"Nice to meet you too." Wilson nodded.
"I'll see you soon, alright, Willow?" The redhead smiled kindly and Willow could only nod.
"O-of course. Can't wait." The florist returned the smile as the other walked off the porch. "See ya!"
Wigfrid nodded in acknowledgement and left.
"Oh. My. Fuck." Willow wheezed as soon as the redhead was out of sight. Wilson burst into laughter at the state of his sister's emotions.
"You know, Willow," Wilson said between laughing fits. "You look positively ill right now! I might not be a doctor, but I think it would be fitting at this point to diagnose you with a case of big gay !"
" Shut the fuck up and get back in the house, you little troglodyte! " Willow shouted, chasing a hysterically laughing Wilson back inside and slamming the front door behind her.