The Tea Shop

by Bernadette Marie

  Carson reached for her, but she climbed from the bed and quickly began to fumble through her drawers for something to wear.

  He'd never seen anybody sleepwalk like this. It was quite scary.

  “Abigail, you need to wake up.”

  She turned to him, obviously fully aware of what was going on. "Mrs. Winters. Her house is on fire.”

  He shook his head. "You’re dreaming. Everybody's fine.”

  Abigail continued to get dressed. "You need to trust me. We need to go right now.”

  Chapter 19

  Abigail dressed and started for the kitchen to grab her keys for her car before Carson had realized she was leaving with or without him. It was the strangest behavior he'd ever seen from her, or anyone else he'd ever known.

  He ran back to the bedroom, pulled on his clothes, and ran out of the house as she started her car.

  “Abigail, you're scaring the hell out of me," he hollered as he barely got the door shut before she backed out of the driveway.

  Quickly, he snapped his seatbelt and held on.

  He watched her face as she madly drove through the quiet streets of Golden toward the highway. If he’d ever seen the eyes of a madwoman, this was it.

  “Slow down. You're going to kill someone," he demanded.

  "If we don't get there, it will kill someone. You have to trust me.”

  “I would trust you if you told me what the hell is going on.”

  He watched her nearly strangle the steering wheel with her hands. "I saw it in a dream. If I see it in a dream, you have to believe.”

  So nothing in his life changed, he decided. He always could fall in love with the crazy ones.

  Once Abigail had made it onto the highway, she sped toward the Genesee exit. Carson was sure he had signed a death sentence by getting into the car.

  As the car turned up the winding road, he saw the flicker in the kitchen window. Mrs. Winters’ house was on fire.

  “Holy shit!” he yelled as Abigail slammed on the brakes and threw the car in park.

  He pushed open his door and found he was running after Abigail as she headed toward the house.

  Abigail ran up the front steps to the door. She tried the knob, but of course, it was locked. Frantically, she knocked on the door.

  “Mrs. Winters! Mrs. Winters, are you in there?” she yelled.

  "Back up," Carson instructed as he picked up a rock from her garden and threw it through the window of the front door. Taking off his coat, he wrapped it around his hand and broke the glass out. Reaching inside, he unlocked it and pushed it open.

  The house was filled with smoke, and it burned his lungs as he moved in.

  "Ellie. Ellie, can you hear me?"

  He moved through the house toward the room where he knew she slept on the main floor. The smoke grew thicker, and he could feel the heat from the flames in the kitchen.

  "I called 9-1-1,” Abigail came up behind him and coughed.

  "Get out of here. The smoke is toxic.”

  "She's in her bed. It's going to take both of us to get her out," Abigail said as she lifted her shirt over her nose.

  It wasn't the time to ask, obviously she knew more than he could ever imagine. Carson kept a hand on the wall to guide him towards the bedroom. Luckily, her door was closed. He opened the door for him and Abigail, letting enough smoke in that Mrs. Winters stirred. Then he shut it again.

  “Mrs. Winters, it's Carson. Wake up. There’s a fire.”

  He saw Abigail moving to put a blanket at the door. "This window goes out to the side yard. We need to go out this window.”

  He gave her a nod in the dark and moved to Mrs. Winters. “Mrs. Winters, do you hear me?”

  He could see her silhouette, she sat up and raised her hand to him. "Jeffery? You did come back," she said calmly. "You said there's a fire? Will you help me get out?”

  Carson wasn't about to correct her. "Yes, Gran. It's me. My friend Abigail and I are going to take you out the window. We are not going to let you get hurt.”

  As he managed her from the bed, he stepped on her slippers.

  "Gran, put on your slippers.”

  "That's a good idea, Jeffery." She slipped her feet into the slippers. "Abigail? You're the girl I share my birthday with, correct?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Winters. Now, I have the window open. Jeffery is going to go outside and help you out.”

  "Okay," Mrs. Winters said as the three of them moved to the window.

  Just as Carson swung his legs out of the window, a fire truck pulled up followed by an ambulance. He called to them to hurry to him.

  “I have Ellie Winters here. Eighty-two-years-old, she's coming through the window." He turned back toward the women. “Gran, the firefighters are here to help you. Let them help you.”

  "Carson, you never call me Gran,” she said clearly. "The two of you get out of here, and let the firefighters do their job.”

  Carson was helped out of the window by a firefighter, and then Abigail. Two more firefighters climbed in the window, and a few moments later, they brought Mrs. Winters out.

  The paramedics brought a stretcher to the window and laid her on it just as the other firefighters got the water on the fire.

  Carson and Abigail were pushed away from the house and toward the street as neighbors began to emerge. He kept his distance from her as he wrapped his head around what had happened.

  Abigail had warned him about the fire. She’d awoken, choking on smoke, or at least seemed to have been. How in the hell could she have known the house was on fire? Had she planned it? She’d been in the house earlier that day.

  His stomach knotted at the thought that she might have done something so devious. Then he remembered when he’d gone to the store earlier he’d wanted to ask her about the death of Katie Meadows.

  Carson looked at Abigail who stood watching Mrs. Winters’ house with tears in her eyes. Did someone who had it in them to harm someone cry when they stood back and watched the destruction unfold?

  He didn’t want to believe it, but how could he not? There were too many things that pointed to Abigail Weston, leaving him unsure about the woman he thought he was falling in love with.

  Carson moved to her, and when he reached out and touched her arm, she jumped away from him as if he had burned her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, noticing the shock in her eyes.

  “Yes,” she said, quickly keeping her distance. “Her family is on their way to the hospital. You should go too. Take my car. I’ll call Clare for a ride.”

  Abigail turned to walk away, and Carson reached for her arm and spun her back to him. Again, she pulled from him as though it hurt. “What is wrong with you?”

  “You need to go.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “Then I’ll take you back to my place,” she said as she watched the police and the firefighters discuss the fire and then look toward them. “Let’s go.”

  Abigail walked straight to her car and Carson followed, but she stopped as a police officer approached her.

  “Ms. Weston?”

  “Yes,” she said, and he heard her voice waver.

  The officer looked up at him. “Mr. Stone?”

  “Yes,” Carson answered, keeping an eye on Abigail’s expression as she fought back tears.

  “I have a few questions for you if you don’t mind. Then you’re free to go. I’m sure you want to head to the hospital with Mrs. Winters.”

  Carson nodded. “We would like to do that.”

  “Were you here when the fire started?”

  Afraid of what Abigail might say, Carson stepped up to stand next to her. He looked at the officer. “No. We both visited this morning, and Mrs. Winters wasn’t thinking quite straight. She’s in the early stages of Alzheimer's.”

  The officer made a note of that. “What made you come back?”

  “We thought we should check on her.”

  “At three in the morning?”

  “Yes,” Cars
on answered quickly, knowing it would sound more convincing if there were no thinking about it. “I try to keep an eye on her. Her family just learned of her diagnosis, so they haven’t been able to make care plans for her yet.”

  The officer tucked his notebook back in his pocket. “Ms. Weston, are you doing okay? Perhaps you should get checked out since you were in the house.”

  “I will. Thank you,” Abigail said.

  “It was lucky that you two happened by. They didn’t see anything physically wrong with Mrs. Winters, but they will check her out thoroughly.”

  Carson held his hand out to shake the officer’s hand. “Thank you.”

  As he walked away, Abigail climbed into her car and sat behind the wheel. She didn’t start the engine when Carson sat in the passenger seat.

  He waited a moment before he spoke. “Can you drive, or would you like me to drive?”

  “You don’t trust me,” she said staring out the front window, the key gripped between her fingers. “You think I’m crazy. You think I’d harm people for my own joy. This evening you thought you were in love with me, but now you’re questioning that.”

  If Carson spoke, he was sure he’d choke on his own words. Was she a mind reader?

  “Head back to your house. Let’s talk.”

  “Don’t you want to go to the hospital?” She finally looked up at him.

  “Does she need me to?” he asked, assuming she’d answer as if she knew the answer.

  Abigail shook her head. “She’s fine. She thinks that Jeffery pulled her from her bed and walked her out the front door.”

  He didn’t say another word as she started the engine and drove down the mountain back to her house. He’d take the quiet drive to try and piece together the questions he was going to have, and he hoped that she’d answer them truthfully. If she didn’t, he was going to have one strong dose of heartbreak.

  Chapter 20

  Abigail busied herself making coffee as Carson called Mrs. Winters’ family for an update.

  When he tucked away his phone, Abigail set a cup of coffee in front of him.

  “Is she doing okay?”

  Carson thought for a moment before he answered, wondering if she already knew the answer. “She’s physically fine. She doesn’t remember the fire, just the conversation with Jeffery, and you.”

  “Odd, isn’t it? Why would she remember me if she doesn’t remember you?”

  Carson ran his finger over the rim of the mug as Abigail sat down at the table across from him. He watched her purposely avoid eye contact with him. “She associates me with Jeffery. I think that’s why we’ve always been so close. I took his place.”

  “And I’m new.”

  “You’re a kindred soul. You share the same birthday.”

  That made her smile behind her mug as she’d lifted it and took a sip. But when she lowered it, her demeanor changed.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m used to the questions.”

  Curious, he leaned in with his arms on the table. “What questions?”

  “How did I know she was sick? How did I know about the fire? Those are only the first questions on your list. I’m surprised you’re sitting here at all.” She stood and walked to the counter. Taking the rag from the sink, she began to clean where there was no mess. A moment later she threw the rag in the sink and turned to him, her hands gripping the counter. “Ask about her, Carson. Just ask.”

  Cautiously, he rose and moved to her. “Her?”

  “It’s been eating at you all day. You want to know if I killed Katie Meadows.”

  Maybe she was a mind reader. Carson tucked his hands into his pockets because he could suddenly begin to feel them shake.

  “How did you know I was going to ask you about that? I didn’t tell anyone about her.”

  “You told me,” she said sniffing back tears. “You don’t know you told me, but you did.”

  “Abigail, you’re starting to scare me. What’s going on?”

  Pushing the fallen wisps of hair from her face, Abigail sat back down at the table, but Carson stayed where he was. Part of him wanted to run out the back door and never look back, but his heart said to stay.

  * * *

  Abigail sat quietly at the table twisting a napkin around her fingers which she’d pulled from the holder. When she’d moved to Golden she’d hoped to never tell this story again, but here she was, another person staring at her as if she’d done wrong. Where would she run after Carson left her house and never spoke to her again? When the police came back later to question her about the fire at Mrs. Winters’ house, what would she tell them? How would her life change without Carson in it?

  He was patient. She knew that much. She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there in silence, but he hadn’t pushed or asked again. Now it was time to tell him her secret and wonder if he’d stay or run.

  “Promise me one thing,” she said as she looked up at him. "When you leave, go calmly. It takes the pain away a little bit.”

  "Because what you're about to tell me is going to make me want to leave?”

  "In my experience, no one wants to stick around.”

  She watched as he considered, and his jaw tightened. "I think I'll make up my own damn mind where that's concerned.”

  She pushed the tangled napkin aside and sat her hands flat on the table. Taking a deep breath, she gathered the strength to tell him her secret.

  "Katie Meadows was the sister of someone I knew. She was ten when she disappeared. I woke up one night, from a very vivid dream, and I knew where they would find her. And they did.”

  "A dream? You saw her in the river in a dream?”

  "I see you've done your homework." She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but he had every right. "Yes, they found her in the river just as I said that they would. That was the biggest premonition I’d had to date. Others like knowing my grandmother had a tumor, for telling my mother not to drive a certain direction and then there was an accident, those were little in comparison.”

  Carson took a long drawn and breath. "Premonitions? Is that what you're telling me you had?”

  "Yes.”

  He nodded and folded his arms in front of him. “You told me yesterday morning that there would be a fire. In the middle of the night, you woke in a fire. That was a premonition?”

  "Yes. I see things in my dreams, but I also see them when I touch somebody. That's how I knew Mrs. Winters was sick. She told me.”

  "She told you?" His tone was as sarcastic as those from her past.

  "The day I met you both, she touched my hand.”

  Carson moved to the table and rested his hands on the back of the chair. His knuckles went white, and she knew he was holding on for dear life. "You touched me. You've touched me everywhere," he reminded her. "What do you see from me?"

  Abigail took another napkin from the holder and wrapped it around her fingers. "That's the very strange part." She looked up at him. "I don't see anything.”

  He snorted a laugh then paced the kitchen raking his fingers through his hair. "So only old ladies?”

  "No," she said as she stood, feeling as though now she needed to defend herself. "You're one of the first people I've never seen anything with. Except for one time and…”

  "One time?" He dropped his hands to his hips and held them still there. “What did you see?”

  "It was the day I asked you to come to the shop and get the pastries. I had seen you getting hurt. Someone who was against your building proposal, they wanted to hurt you."

  Abigail watched the anger diminish, and his skin began to grow pale. "I had a threat on my voicemail. Someone said something about the church being sacred and my car was not. I remember thinking they were going to do something to my car, perhaps I'd seen too many movies, and I thought that there was a bomb under it.”

  "I couldn't tell you exactly what I saw, except that you were hurt, and yes, it had something to do with your car. I knew that if I got you out of there before you would've left
normally, maybe you would've been safe.”

  Carson pulled back the chair and sat down. "That's how you knew Mrs. Winters had Alzheimer's. Before we knew.”

  "Yes.”

  "And you must've seen something that day you met my mother. Something happened, and you could barely stand on your feet.”

  Abigail took a cleansing breath. "It's not a gift, Carson. It's some kind of curse. I don't want to know these things. The glory is when I do touch you I don't see anything. I get to enjoy the moment with you. I do want to enjoy the moments with you. No matter what I've seen." Once she said it, she saw his head rise, and she wished she could take that back.

  Carson stood and gripped her shoulders. "If there is something bad, you need to tell me. If something is going to happen to me, or my family, or you…”

  "Nothing bad happens.”

  “Damnit, tell me.”

  "This is where everything is ruined.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  "The moment I touched Mrs. Winters hand, I saw you and me.”

  “Hooking up?”

  She pushed away from his grip. "Is that what this all was? Just a hook up to you?”

  "No. I thought it was so much more.”

  “And with all I know, the moment is lost. There is no mystique. It seems like a chore now.”

  "And if it involves me, you’d better damn well tell me.”

  She stepped to him, angrily. "Fine. What I saw was you and me. Husband and wife. When I went back the other day, to see if anything had changed, I saw more. Not only did I see that fire that was coming, I saw us. I saw our wedding. I saw our house. And I saw our children. As much as I want all of that, it would be nice not to have it sprawled out in front of me like a story I can read.”

  When she finished, she looked up at him and noticed his eyes were wide. "I felt all of that last night." He ran his hand over his stubbled chin. "I decided last night that I knew I wanted you. I wanted to get married. And of course, have children.”

  "Great. Maybe we can skip everything else and just start today.”

  Carson reached her hands, squeezed them both gently. "And you told other people things like this? Finding Katie and other things and they didn't believe you.”