@auntiehildas
“When I was younger, I--well, I always said I had a calling. To be a scholar, not a wife and mother.” She has a sticky bun on the plate in front of her and is slowly picking it apart into crumbs. Nerves. She and Hilda have spent a lovely afternoon baking together, and she doesn’t know if she’s about to ruin it, trying to make this lovely, golden cloud between them coalesce into something firm, something they can name. “As I got older... I realized how... Difficult that path was, and how--also--I wasn’t quite right about it. I wasn’t... Called away from love. Not at all. It was just that love, for me, looked quite different.”
Her eyes are trained on Hilda’s face. “Do you know what I mean?” She says it in a voice that’s trying to be light; she’s even smiling a little, wanting it to seem of no import, if that’s what Hilda wants, too.
