The Tea Series

by Sheila Horgan

  Anyway, back to my eveningwear.

  The bodice is basically like a bikini top, the triangle type, connected to a really fitted elongated diamond that connects to the skirt part with just a tiny bit of gathering. In the back the elongated diamond from the front meets to form a very plunging back with the chiffon straps crisscrossing and barely holding the front onto your body. Hard to explain but beautiful. The appliques start at the bottom on the left side and stay along the hemline until they get to the front on the right side and then just float across the front, up under the left breast, then between the breasts, and end up on the right shoulder. They get smaller as they move up.

  There’s a robe that matches. It’s very sheer and has belled sleeves, with the appliques around the neckline, the bottom of the sleeves, and at the beltline at the back.

  So strange. The moment I slipped the nightgown over my head, I just felt like all this stress and meanness escaped while I let out such a heavy sigh.

  Maybe Teagan is smarter than she looks.

  But even I know a nightgown can’t cure all that ails you.

  That’s what tea is for.

  A.J. was sitting on the couch when I walked by. He didn’t even look up he was so engrossed in something that he was reading. I saw Morgan’s logo on the top of the paper, so I’m assuming it’s something they’re working on for Old Town.

  I wanted to make a noise and force the point, but the old Cara never would have done that, and the old Cara is the person I’m trying to find.

  I walked into the kitchen, made my tea, and called to A.J., “Want anything?”

  I didn’t realize that he’d come around the corner and was standing right behind me. I must have been lost in thought. Or maybe it was the sound from the kettle.

  I said more quietly, “You want anything?”

  His voice was a little deeper than usual. “Yep.”

  The look on his face was great.

  I hadn’t seen that smile in a while.

  My tea got cold.

  FIVE

  I WAS IN bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to decide just how I was going to approach the whole Roland thing. I know he told Adeline something, but I’m not certain exactly what he told her, and for all I know, he told her some placebo thing just so that she would turn around and make me think that he told her the real thing when the real thing hasn’t been told.

  All this clarity came to me in a dream.

  At about four this morning.

  After some consideration, I was beginning to think that you shouldn’t follow four in the morning dream advice.

  What if I did call Adeline and tell her everything I know, and then it turns out that Roland really did already tell her? Then I just look like I’m all in her business for no reason. On the other hand, if I don’t tell her and she finds out later that I knew and I didn’t say anything, then she is going to fire me.

  I may have a conflict going between the old Cara and the new Cara, but both Caras agree that I would fire me for not telling me.

  And if I get fired, then what?

  Suzi took over my job with A.J.

  I spent too much money on the stuff in the office.

  The job market is picking up, but it isn’t that good yet.

  I don’t even know what it is I would want to do, but I have learned a lot since going to work for Adeline, so maybe I could be someone else’s personal assistant. Of course, if Adeline has to fire me for being an idiot, she probably isn’t going to give me a good reference.

  I took a deep breath.

  No reason to lie in bed while my inner nun fights with my inner fifth grader, both waging war with my inner insecure self while that part argues with my wanting to get back to my old self.

  My brain is becoming a busy — if confusing — place.

  I jumped out of bed like I was actually looking forward to the day.

  I put the kettle on, waited for it to boil, and started a cup of tea to brew — in the travel mug that Teagan bought me, which made me smile — and took a quick shower.

  A.J. was in the kitchen when I came out.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning. Did I keep you awake? I’ve still got this — ” He stopped himself from cussing. He virtually never cusses at work, he just lets little things slip now and then, but he has decided it is very nonprofessional, and since the whole world cusses these days, being a young, incredibly good-looking guy who has old-fashioned values and manners, it is so unexpected and holds him apart, which is good. He took a breath. “Stupid cold. How bad was I snoring?”

  “I told you the snoring doesn’t bother me. It’s my perfect father’s one flaw. He snores so loud we could all hear him everywhere in the house. My mother used to say he sounded like a mastiff with adenoid issues. My grandmother used to say he would peel the paper off the walls.”

  “Well, I’m glad I didn’t keep you awake.” He smiled. “I liked your loungewear last night.”

  “Me too.”

  “Haven’t seen you in it for a while.”

  “I need to fix that.”

  “You won’t hear any complaints from me.” His laugh was great.

  “I’m really sorry that I’ve been such a pain.”

  “Cara, I love you. Nobody’s perfect, not even an O’Flynn, but you’re closer than most. We don’t need a problem-free life — there’s no such thing — we just need to learn to face our problems together.”

  “I should write that down. Speaking of problems, there’s all kinds of drama going on with Adeline and with her security people, and there’s a chance that I’m going to end up being the scapegoat, and if that’s the case, there’s a chance that I’m going to end up unemployed. You want to be my sugar daddy?” I wiggled my eyebrows around trying for humor. I’m not sure what effect I actually created, but A.J. didn’t laugh.

  “Cara, Adeline loves you. You aren’t simply her employee. My grandmother says all the time that all three of the girls would be lost without you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Adeline isn’t going to fire you.”

  “So, you don’t want to keep me as your kept woman? I saw a thing online about sugar daddies going all respectable. They even have an app for that. I know there’s competition out there, but I’ll earn my keep.” This time I had a huge smile on my face and did the eyebrow thing, and it worked.

  Suddenly I felt better about the Roland situation. Amazing how one simple comment can do that for you. All A.J. had to do was remind me that I am important too.

  “Cara, I could never afford you, your smile alone would bring in millions, but I’d be happy to throw in more toward the bills. Actually, we need to talk about that one of these days. I think it’s time to open a joint checking account.”

  In my brain, a weird squee sound escaped, and I was twirling around in the kitchen.

  Maybe not to the rest of the world, but to me, that sounded really committed. Living together is one thing. A joint checking account is a whole other thing. I know married people who don’t have joint checking accounts.

  I tried to sound nonchalant. “We can talk about it this weekend. I’ll check with the bank and see what we need to do.”

  I might not be as far behind Teagan as I thought. She might be the one getting married, but my funds are about to be comingled. That has to mean something.

  A.J. was late for work.

  I was just walking to the kitchen for another cup of tea, my hair still wet from the shower, when Suzi knocked on the door.

  “We have to come up with some kind of code. I don’t want to interrupt you guys all the time. You want me to call before I come over? Text?”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course not.”

  “How will I know you are too busy?”

  “Not answering the door should be a dead giveaway.”

  “Good point. I just wanted to let you know that I moved in the last of my stuff. I officially live across the hall from you now. I got some of those screw things for the windows, so
I’m going to leave my windows open about an inch for fresh air.”

  “Bad plan. The way the roof works, your apartment will be under water if it rains. I never leave the windows open when I’m not home. I don’t know what they did, but the water comes down the front side of the building, and we get all the water for the whole thing.”

  “Well, great. There goes my fresh air.”

  “The up side is that your windows are always clean.”

  She laughed. “Your apartment is never stuffy. What do you do?”

  “Nothing, really. As long as you keep the air in the house pretty dry, with those thingies. I hang one in every closet, one in the laundry room, and one across from the second bathroom, and we don’t have any problems.”

  “I didn’t miss the humidity when I left.”

  “Teagan said the same thing. So did Adeline when she went to Las Vegas. Said that her hair didn’t frizz once.”

  “I gotta get to work. I’m running late.”

  “So is A.J.”

  “Great, then neither of us will be there to open.”

  “Are times that exact now? A.J. used to have a very Irish approach. Open early to late.”

  “He and Morgan just have so much going on that someone is always dropping something off. It isn’t a big deal, really. If I’m not there, they either come back later, or they leave a notice; I just don’t like making them wait.”

  “A.J. and Morgan are both pretty easygoing. I don’t think there will be a problem with you being a few minutes late.”

  “That was the other thing I wanted to say. Cara, I’m sorry. I think I really blew it with your sister.”

  “Teagan?”

  “No, sorry, sister-in-law, Morgan. I think I stepped in it. She didn’t seem very happy. I just don’t want to mess things up for her and A.J.”

  “Not to worry. She called me and said the same thing. She thought you were upset with her.”

  “It’s a long thing, and I don’t have time right now, but I’m glad there isn’t a big problem.”

  “You want to come over tonight?”

  “I didn’t move in next door so that you would be stuck with me all the time.”

  “I miss you, you know. We used to have a lot of fun.”

  “Yeah, we did.”

  “A.J. and I are going out to dinner, but we won’t be late. You want to come over for a cup of tea when we get home?”

  “That would be great. Just pound on my door.”

  “I will. I’m going to be running errands today. You need anything?”

  “Nope, I’m good. Have a good day, Cara.”

  I found the world’s best root gunk online. Doesn’t matter how messed up your hair is. You section off some, spray the gunk on, flip your head upside down, and scrub your fingers through it a couple of times, and you have hair perfection.

  I did that.

  I applied a generous slathering of tinted moisturizer stuff.

  A little liner, some really great mascara that Teagan swears by, and some tinted lip balm, and I was out the door.

  It dawned on me, after I sat down in my car, that hot weather, leather seats, and shorts are not a good combination. Damn. Burned the heck out of my thighs.

  I was back off the seat and headed toward my apartment to get a beach towel to cover the seat when I saw a big black SUV that just didn’t belong in my apartment complex parking lot. It looked too shiny and expensive.

  I kept going, making sure to beep the lock on my car so that everyone would know not to bother flipping through my stuff. I jogged back to the apartment, opened the lock, and remembered to turn off the alarm, but stood there in case I decided to hit the panic button, and called Roland. The emergency number he’d given me, not the front desk.

  “Ms. O’Flynn, how can we help?”

  “Do you guys have a big black SUV sitting in my parking lot?”

  “One moment.”

  Not more than three moments later he was back.

  “No, ma’am, it is not one of ours.”

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “What did you see, and why did it make you uncomfortable?”

  “It’s just a big, shiny, black SUV with really dark windows. Basically the same thing you guys drive around. That’s why I thought I’d call. It is probably someone new to the apartment complex, or someone is doing the walk of shame this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

  “We’re seven out.”

  “Oh, please, you don’t have to do that.”

  “Ma’am, please stay in your apartment until we get there. Is your alarm armed?”

  “I turned it off when I came in the door.”

  “Please take a moment to arm your device.” He said it with such authority that I didn’t even question it.

  “Okay, I did it. I wish I hadn’t called. I didn’t mean to start all kinds of drama.”

  “We are very glad you called, ma’am. Please stay on the line with me until my colleagues arrive.”

  “This really isn’t necessary.”

  I walked over to the window and was careful not to touch the blinds. I positioned myself so that I could see out the little triangle left in the corner where they never really meet the wall properly.

  “Well, dammit. Someone is looking in my car. My purse is in there.”

  “We are five out. Is the individual attempting to make entrance?”

  “No, just looking in the window. Now walking around the other side.”

  “I assume the car is locked, ma’am.”

  “Yeah, at least I did that right.”

  “Can you describe the individual for me, please?”

  “Sure. He’s a guy. He’s about six foot one or two. He’s medium build. He’s wearing medium wash jeans and a black t-shirt. He’s wearing shoes.”

  “He’s wearing shoes, ma’am?”

  “Sorry, I meant he is wearing some kind of different shoes I’ve never seen before.”

  “Let’s stick with the things he can’t change, first.”

  “Okay.”

  “Color hair? Eyes?”

  “Can’t see his eyes, but his hair is dunduckity mud.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Sorry, medium brown.”

  “Length?”

  “Not real short, not real long.”

  “Medium?”

  “Exactly. Oh, wait, this isn’t very helpful, is it? He’s kind of tallish, but other than that, everything is medium.”

  “Probably not an accident, ma’am. We are three out.”

  “Well, I think you are going to be too late. He’s walking back over to the other side.”

  “Is he getting in a vehicle?”

  “I can’t see unless I shove the blinds out of the way.”

  “I would prefer he not be aware that you are watching him.”

  “Then I can’t see.”

  “We are — ”

  “Oh, wait, he’s back. He has something in his hand.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, hell, no, he’s going to break into my car! He’s just some idiot trying to get to my purse.” I was walking fast toward the door.

  “Ma’am, do not go outside. We are there in two.”

  “One is going to be too late.”

  Just then the guy pulled back to take a huge swing at my window, and my parking lot was swarmed with big black SUVs with dark tint on the windows.

  The guy’s eyes were huge.

  Somebody yelled something.

  He dropped the whatever-it-was. Didn’t really look like a pry bar, but it wasn’t a bat.

  More yelling.

  He went down on his knees and just allowed himself to fall flat on his face, without even putting his hands out to protect himself.

  I have a brother who is a cop.

  I know what that means.

  It means the guy has been to prison.

  That’s what they do on the yard when everything hits the fan. They fall face flat without using their hands so
that they don’t get shot.

  A prison guy trying to get in my car.

  This just hasn’t been a good month for my stuff.

  My own fault. You shouldn’t leave your purse in your car in plain view.

  He probably thought that I was going back into my apartment for a long time, and he was taking advantage of my stupidity.

  An armed response for a purse-snatcher might be a little overkill, but I bet he doesn’t break into any more cars for a while.

  One of Roland’s guys put those little plastic tie things on the guy, his hands behind his back, just about the time Roland arrived.

  He was so calm it was scary.

  Even from a distance.

  If I were the purse-snatcher, I’d wet myself.

  Twice.

  At first I was worried that my SUV-guy would get away, but if he didn’t leave before Roland’s guys arrived, he wouldn’t be leaving until they figured out who he is, because there is only one exit in my apartment complex, and they had it semi-blocked.

  Roland talked to the guy for a second, then talked to his guys, then headed straight for my apartment.

  He didn’t look happy.

  I opened the door before he could knock. Then ran for the alarm pad when it started making noises at me. He was inside when I turned around.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all your people over here for something this stupid. I’m glad he didn’t get my purse, but this is a little ridiculous. He just scared me. I couldn’t really call 911 and report a big black SUV in the parking lot. They probably already think I’m nuts. I’m just all paranoid and I overreacted. Sorry.”

  “Cara, he isn’t a purse-snatcher. You did the right thing calling.”

  “If he isn’t a purse snatcher, what is he?”

  “That’s what we will find out.”

  “Then I should have called 911?”

  “No, you did the right thing. He’ll be coming with us.”

  “But shouldn’t we call the police? You can’t just take him away. That’s kidnapping or something. The police can take him to the station and question him, but even I know that no crime was committed. Maybe an attempted crime. Like attempted murder.” Oh, crap, that’s not a good thought. Cancel! Cancel! Let’s not put my being in the same thought with attempted murder. Again.