The Tea Shop

by Bernadette Marie

  Carson picked up his bowl after adding an ample amount of cheese and crushing crackers into it. "So, I wanted to tell you about a project I'm working on."

  Abigail was dainty with her addition of cheese and a few crackers, which she crushed with her spoon, and not her hand. "Oh, yeah? A new one?"

  "No, not exactly. The Ford Street church." He saw her jaw clench, but she eased back beside him, focusing on her chili. "A few weeks ago, a restaurateur contacted me about the building. They're interested in taking over the whole building and using it for a restaurant."

  She shifted a glance his way. "But I thought it was unsafe. That's what you told me, right?"

  "It is. You can't just start moving things around with that particular building. It's going to take a lot of money and effort to fix it. In fact, it doubles the budget and timetable."

  "It doesn't make it a very good investment then, right?"

  Her reaction certainly wasn't what he'd expected. "But it's saving the building," he offered. "That's good, right?"

  She took a bite of her chili and nodded her head.

  Would he ever truly understand women? She hated the idea of them tearing it down, but now that he was telling her that they were going to do everything possible to keep it up, she looked as though she could care less.

  He sat back with his chili and ate as he watched the fire. No need to dive any deeper into the conversation that obviously was going nowhere.

  Picking up the remote, he turned on the TV. The silence between them was suffocating. He searched until he found a football talk show. Well, if she wasn't going to engage him in conversation, he'd watch something that piqued his interest, and forgo the romantic comedy for some other time when he gave a damn about what she was feeling.

  * * *

  Abigail watched him stir his chili and bite down on his spoon. Obviously, her reaction wasn't the one he'd been hoping for. A week ago she'd have been ecstatic to hear the news. She hated to think the church would be torn down. But after Mrs. Winters' comments, she wasn't sure what to tell him. Perhaps she'd only meant not to let him tear it down. That made the most sense in her head. So his news should be good, she thought.

  Tomorrow she'd go back to visit Mrs. Winters and ask her. She couldn't let this building tear them apart. It had already been something that caused them pain.

  "I'm sorry," she said softly, and she noticed he didn't react. Perhaps he hadn't heard her. "I said I'm sorry." She spoke louder this time.

  He clicked the TV off and set his bowl on the table. "I don't get it, Abi. I just can't break through to you." He stood and walked to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

  Pain ripped through her. It physically sickened her. She lifted her spoon to her lips and noticed how her hands shook. Without taking the bite, she replaced the spoon.

  She'd made a mess of things, again. It wasn't worth it. She'd apologize after she cleaned up.

  Abigail piled everything back on the tray and carried it to the kitchen. She turned off the slow cooker so that the leftover chili could cool. She rinsed the bowls in the sink and set them to soak as she unloaded the dishwasher.

  She heard the TV come on in the living room. Good, she thought. He'd come out. That was a good sign.

  The TV grew louder and louder, and she wondered what kind of point he was trying to make. She wouldn't argue. He had the right to throw a temper tantrum.

  She continued to unload the dishwasher, and the TV grew even louder. It was starting to get ridiculous. Then she heard the bedroom door and Carson cursing at the TV.

  With the last bowl in her hand, she walked out to see him sitting on the couch, the remote aimed at the TV as if he were trying to turn it off.

  It was then she saw the woman behind him kiss the top of his head, just as the TV sound turned off and Abigail dropped the bowl.

  Carson turned to her, but all she could do was watch as Mrs. Winters blew her a kiss and faded from sight.

  Chapter 33

  The damn TV stopped working, but the crash of the bowl to the floor caught Carson's attention. He turned to see Abigail nearly petrified in the kitchen, and the bowl shattered at her feet.

  "Abi?" He stood quickly and moved to her, the air chilly around them. "Are you breathing? Answer me," he said as he took her hands and guided her wide stare to him. "Breathe, baby. Breathe. It's just a bowl. The TV must be broken, and damn if the fire isn't…"

  "Call Glenn," she said, her voice trembling as she spoke.

  The moment she mentioned Glenn's name his chest ached as if she'd pulled his heart from his chest and squeezed the life from it.

  Moving her from the glass on the floor, Carson walked Abigail to the kitchen table and helped her sit down. She was a white as a sheet.

  "I'll get you something to drink. Some water," he said hoping the small talk would calm her.

  "Call Glenn," she repeated. "You have to call…"

  At that moment Carson's phone rang on the counter. They both looked at it as it rang.

  Finally, he moved toward the counter. Glenn's name was on the ID.

  Carson's throat went dry as he pushed the button.

  "Hey, Glenn," he answered and heard his voice crack. He watched Abigail's face distort the pain of holding in the tears that pooled in her eyes. She knew what Glenn was saying to him, of that he was certain. A few moments later, they said their goodbyes and Carson disconnected the call.

  He turned to the counter, bracing himself up with both hands. He could hear her sobs now. Did he have to tell her?

  Fighting his own pain, he took a breath. "Mrs. Winters passed about twenty minutes ago."

  Carson could hear her sobbing grow heavier now, but he couldn't turn around. He couldn't let go of the damn counter because he didn't trust his own legs beneath him.

  When he heard Abigail's breath calm, he turned to watch her dab her eyes with the handkerchief Mrs. Winters had given her.

  "She was here, wasn't she?" he asked, not even believing those kinds of words would come from him.

  Abigail nodded. "She kissed you goodbye."

  Carson closed his eyes, and he could feel the kiss on the back of his head.

  "The TV?"

  "I think she was trying to get our attention."

  Now he moved to her and pulled her from her chair. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he buried his face in her hair and let the tears fall from his eyes.

  This day was inevitable. How many times had he played it out in his mind since they'd become as close as he'd been with her grandson? She was old, and she'd lived a long and full life. It wasn't fair to any of them to be sad. It was selfishness, that was all. The pain was nearly as crippling as when Jeffery died.

  "Carson, I'm so sorry," Abigail whispered into his neck.

  All he could do was continue to hold her. Love would shield him from the pain, he thought. She would make him calm.

  As hard as Carson tried, he couldn't focus at the office. He was a wreck, and so was his mother. Emily had been on the phone with the florist ordering arrangements from the Stone family, and another from Abigail and Carson.

  Glenn had called with funeral details. He'd asked for Carson to be a pallbearer along with her other grandsons. Coming from Jeffery's father, he couldn't help but feel the honor of being Jeffery's replacement.

  By noon, Carson was spent. He simply couldn't stand to be in his office any longer. After convincing his mother that he was mentally stable, he headed out to his car and began to drive.

  He hadn't thought about where he'd go, but as if the car had driven itself, he found himself on the winding roads leading to the apex of Lookout Mountain. He continued until he had driven to the site where they had camped all those years ago—where Jeffery had died.

  Was he there too, Carson wondered. If Abigail were with him, would she see him? Why had she seen Mrs. Winters?

  Carson parked his car and began to hike toward the picnic table where they'd set up their meek camp that fateful night so many years ago.
It had been a long time since he'd been there. The unease of it never settled, no matter how many years had passed.

  Around him, the wind blew through the trees which were at the end of their fall color cycle. On the ground dried leaves blew. He could feel Jeffery there, but did he feel him, or was that all part of what was clouding his head? Mrs. Winters told Abigail that she saw him—talked to him. Was that possible?

  Carson pressed his fingers to his eyes. Of course, it was possible. Abigail had seen Mrs. Winters kiss him goodbye. So why couldn't he accept that?

  He sat there in silence as the cold wind blew around him, and then his skin grew warm. The sun peeked through the sparsely covered branches of the trees, and the breeze grew quiet.

  Sitting alone in nature, he realized he wasn't alone at all. Jeffery was there. He could feel him, even though he couldn't see him.

  "Jeff?" he asked the open air as if he might just answer. "How do I know if you're really here? I can't see you. But I feel you."

  A warm breeze circled him and he could smell the distinct smell of mint flavored chewing tobacco.

  Carson burst out into laughter. "Oh my God! You are here."

  Now what to say to the man he couldn't see—or the boy he decided.

  "I miss you. God, I miss you, my friend." Tears stung his eyes again, and he let the tears build and fall. "I know your grandmother is with you now. I know that you've been waiting for her, but I miss her. It's only been a day and I feel like part of me is missing."

  He wiped at the tears that streamed over his cheeks. "I wish you were here to meet Abigail. Your grandmother made that happen." Now he laughed through the tears. "She's everything I didn't know I wanted," he mused. "She's perfect in every way, even the part she hates. See, she can see things like your grandmother could. Though I didn't know that was a skill your grandmother had. I'll have four children with this woman I plan to marry." He chuckled to himself. "I suppose I should name one Jeffery too."

  The leaves around him blew from the ground into a cyclone propelled by nothing he could feel around him. He was sure he'd gone absolutely crazy when he thought they resembled the figure of a man before they fell back to the ground.

  "You always did love magic tricks," he said wiping his cheeks again. "I'm so glad you showed up today to let me talk to you." He felt the warmth on his cheeks. "I'm going to propose to Abigail when your grandma's funeral is over, and we've begun to move on without her. Your dad is holding up well, though I would guess you know that."

  Carson stood from his seat on the bench. "I'll come back. Maybe I can bring Abi, and you can meet her." He smiled at the strange notion that it might be completely different with her there. She could probably see him. "Goodbye, my friend."

  The air around him circled the leaves at his feet again, and then it went cold. As he shook off the chill, he realized that Jeffery was gone and the clouds had darkened the sky, except for one spot by the base of the tree. The sun broke through and shone on the ground. From the pile of leaves, he saw something bright catch his eye.

  Carson moved to it, kneeling down beneath the tree. He brushed away the leaves, and on the ground was Jeffery's class ring.

  His breath caught in his lungs as he looked down at it. Had it been there for the past sixteen years? Had no one found it as they picnicked and played in the area?

  Carson gripped it in his hand and held it to his heart. "I'll see that your mother gets this," he said, and the patch of sunlight between the branches of the trees grew dark just like the rest of the sky.

  Now instead of tobacco, he could smell the impending snow the forecasters had promised.

  Chapter 34

  "Abi, take a break. You're going to make yourself sick running around here like this," Clare scolded her as she counted the cookies on the tray one more time.

  Because she didn't know what else to do for the family, Abigail had offered up The Tea Shop for a reception after the funeral. Because it was Mrs. Winters, she wanted everything to be perfect. However, she hadn't slept since Mrs. Winters had waved goodbye to her.

  When the bell over the front door chimed, and she jumped as if someone had come from behind a tree with an ax, Clare moved through the kitchen to see who it was. "Stay in here. You're too messed up for a customer to see."

  A few moments later Clare and Carson walked through the door of the kitchen together.

  Under the wool overcoat, he was dressed in a three-piece suit, was freshly shaven, and smelled of heaven. He certainly was apt to make an impression.

  "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice soft and sad.

  "I don't know. The shop isn't set up all the way. I keep losing track on my count for these cookies, and…"

  Clare gripped her shoulders. "And if you don't get the hell out of my way, it won't be ready at all. Now go. I will have everything set up when you get back."

  On any other day, Abigail would argue with her. Today, she felt weak, so she pulled her cousin in and hugged her. "I love you. Thank you."

  "I love you, too. Now go."

  Carson helped her with her apron when it tangled, and he held her coat so she could slide into it. His car had been cleaned and waxed. It sat, a brilliant shiny black against the newly fallen snow.

  "I am absolutely sure Mrs. Winters ordered snow in October just to have her funeral. It's fitting," he said as he opened the car door and Abigail slid in.

  "It shimmers in the sunlight," Abigail added.

  "Yeah, just like she did."

  He shut the door and walked around the car. Shrugging out of the overcoat, he opened the back door and set the coat on the seat. He closed the door and opened the other. A crisp breeze blew into the car as he slid in.

  For a moment he sat silently, his hands on the wheel. "I've known this day was coming for years. I don't think you're any better prepared when it gets here though."

  Abigail reached for his hand. Again, she saw the cloud of darkness, and she felt the dampness on her skin.

  Quickly she pulled back. He was distraught enough, and he didn't seem to notice her reaction.

  A moment later Carson pulled away from the curb and headed to the church where they would say their final goodbyes to a woman that meant the world to both of them.

  The funeral had been well attended, which told Carson that the woman who had filled a void in his life had touched many others.

  Though he'd been very close to her son Glenn's family most of his life, it was the first time he'd met Jeffery's other cousins, but they all seemed to know him.

  It was interesting that Mrs. Winters had loved him as much as everyone said she had. She wasn't his grandmother, but even talking to her own grandchildren, no one would have been the wiser. She was proud of him, and she boasted about how well he did in business and the good he did for the community. Mrs. Winters' daughter even knew all about Abigail, and she'd shared that she was happy to see that they had finally found each other.

  After Carson helped carry Mrs. Winters to her final resting place, he took a few minutes to visit Jeffery only a few feet away.

  The hand on his shoulder told him that Abigail understood his pain. She stood quietly to his side, but her presence eased the ache in his heart.

  "I went up the mountain the other day and talked to him," he said still crouching in front of his headstone. "He was there. I felt him. I smelled him," he said with a chuckle. "At one point I thought I could see him."

  "I think you did too."

  Carson looked up at her. "You've talked to him?"

  She shook her head. "I think Mrs. Winters wanted you and I to have something more in common. She told me so in a dream, but it didn't make any sense to me. But if you saw him, then she's instilled that in you."

  Carson stood. "So now I'll see the future?"

  She shrugged. "Or you'll see her and Jeffery. You'll only see what you want to see. But your mind is open now."

  * * *

  Carson took her hand and laced their fingers together. "You don't see anything wit
h us, still?"

  Abigail shook her head. "I'm glad, actually. I want it all to be fresh and new."

  He pulled her to him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Abigail Weston. I can't imagine the pain my heart would be going through if you weren't here. I didn't know how I'd recover from the loss of Jeffery, and Mrs. Winters was there for me. Now you're here while I process my loss of her."

  "I'll never leave your side," she promised, even though she could feel the world begin to spin as he held her hand. There was something coming she thought as he broke the connection and turned to one of Jeffery's cousins who stood and began to reminisce with Carson.

  How was she supposed to know how to stop whatever inevitable bad was to come his way if she were now alone with her ability? Carson had somehow summonsed Jeffery on his trip to the mountain. Could Abigail summons Mrs. Winters in more than just her dreams? She would have to try because now she was too deep in love with the man to lose him and not know what was coming for them.

  After the funeral, Mrs. Winters' entire family converged on The Tea Shop. As Clare had promised, she had everything ready and set up as they had planned.

  Mrs. Winters' daughter Donna moved to Carson and Abigail as they stood with Jeffery's brother.

  "Abigail, this is a lovely place. I've been meaning to come by and see it. My mother talked about it all the time. It looks so different from when she had her linen shop here," she said as she looked around.

  "I'm sorry, she had what?" Abigail asked.

  Donna smiled as she lifted her teacup to her apricot painted lips. "She never mentioned it? Oh, when my mother and father had first started out, she and her mother opened a linen shop in this very spot. They sold bed and table linens, oh and appliquéd handkerchiefs. That was one of their specialties."

  Abigail pulled the handkerchief from her pocket, which Mrs. Winters had given her. "Like this?"