The Tea Series

by Sheila Horgan

  “She doesn’t have to be. She’s running around in your head all the time. What would Mom say?”

  “She would say that I need to write everything down so that it isn’t bouncing around in my head. Then I need to give it a minute to calm down. Then once I’m sure I know where I stand, what I can live with and what I can’t, I need to talk to the people involved in a calm and respectful way.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How can I do that?”

  “You just gave me a step-by-step — ”

  “But if I don’t have the facts, then how do I figure it out?”

  “Teagan, maybe it isn’t yours to figure out. Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all.”

  “Right. If it involves my soon-to-be-husband, then by definition it involves me.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Get engaged and then get all…” I searched for a word. “Un-Teagan-like.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Jessie fell in love with Teagan. Teagan doesn’t do this crazy dependent, joined-at-the-hip, you-have-to-tell-me-everything-now stuff. You aren’t like that.”

  “I’m not?”

  “No, I wouldn’t like that Teagan. The Teagan I know and love would look at this and say: ‘I love Jessie. I trust Jessie. When I am supposed to know, Jessie will tell me.’”

  “The Teagan you know and love is an idiot.”

  “Yes, but a lovable one.”

  “So you’re telling me to just back off and see what happens.”

  “Other than start a huge fight that won’t get you what you want, what else is there to do?”

  “I’m not sure I like this mature and reasonable thing you’ve got going on, dingleberry.”

  “I’ve got chocolate.”

  “I knew you were good for something.”

  “I’ve also got a change of subject. You can use your brain for something else and keep it busy.”

  “I’m a multitasker. I can do more than one thing at a time.”

  “So, you can read the journal, and I’ll repeatedly thump you on the head. That way you can think about the journal and plan my slow and painful death.”

  “That might work.”

  We sat on the couch and read the journal. It only took Teagan a little while to catch up to where I was; then she read aloud.

  For the next several weeks, Cassia would come by the house with all manner of lotions and potions that were making a huge difference in the health of my charge.

  Teagan stopped. “I guess we know where you got that phrase now.”

  “What?”

  “You say lotions and potions all the time. I guess you picked it up from Bernie.”

  “I’m not the one who started that. You say it too.”

  “I only say it to you because you say it. You picked it up from Bernie.”

  “Oh God. I wonder what else I picked up from her.”

  Teagan just shook her head and started reading again.

  I say as a witness before God that what Cassia was able to do was nothing short of a miracle. She brought that woman back from eminent death to, if not rigorous health, at the very least a level of health that we could maintain for some time. Mrs. McCann was able to leave her bed for the first time in months. Her sores were healing; the worst of them no longer smelled of death, but had the pink glow of new beginnings.

  Had I been the wiser, I would have insisted that the family of Mrs. McCann repay Cassia’s kindness. At the very least a donation to the church and a candle for a year, but they would have none of it, and I, being such a young and abashed soul, did not insist. For my part, I did what I was able. I did all the mending that Cassia brought to me in exchange for her time. I created lace for her. The Irish create fine lace that has carried us through the famine and since. I learned at the convent in the village and find that the process relaxes me at the end of a taxing day. The handwork is precise and detailed and lends a sense of accomplishment. A lasting thing of beauty, the nuns told me. For Cassia I created a beautiful piece that had her name entwined with flowers. I made a collar for her best black dress. I did needlework for her sponsor. It was the very least I could do, as her actions not only saved Mrs. McCann, but she saved me as well, keeping a warm shelter and food available to me.

  Teagan put down the journal. “This is just stupid and boring.”

  “I didn’t think it was boring. I think that there’s something there. At least we know more about Bernie’s life.”

  “Maybe that is a big deal for you, but me, not so much.”

  “Then you don’t have to read it.”

  Teagan couldn’t resist. “Maybe it tells how she met Grandma. How Grandma really was back in the day. That will brighten Mom’s life.”

  “You’re right. Maybe she doesn’t want to know. I never knew that Mom’s life was so rough when she was a kid. You think about that kind of stuff now, but I never really thought about it happening back then. Grandma always seemed so proper.”

  Teagan sniffed. “Thinking about your own grandmother basically prostituting her daughter, your mother — ”

  “Don’t say that. Mom wasn’t a prostitute.”

  “No, she wasn’t, but Grandma was willing to look the other way in exchange for whatever it was that guy was providing. What else do you call that?

  “I can’t think about it that way, Teagan.”

  “Just because you don’t think about it, doesn’t make it go away.”

  “Maybe it will say something in the journal about what she did about Grandma when she found out what was happening to her. How she made that guy go away. Maybe it will even tell us who he was so that we can hunt him down and kill him in his sleep.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it seems like she wrote this accounting for you. Do you really think that Bernie is going to say, ‘Oh, and by the way, this is the day that I kicked ol’ what’s-his-name to the curb. Your grandmother didn’t care that he was messing with your mother.’”

  “Why are you being so crude? And angry? What’s going on with you?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just in a bad mood. The whole thing with Jessie. The whole thing with Honey. It just feels like I’m not a featured player in my own life right now, and since I can be a little bit controlling, that’s hard for me.”

  “A little bit?”

  “Shut up, dingleberry.”

  “So you don’t want to read the journal?”

  “Not particularly. I think I’m going home.”

  “But you haven’t eaten all my chocolate.”

  “I’m good. Sorry to eat and run. Actually, more like be a jerk and run.”

  “It happens. Are you sure you’re okay? Can I do anything?”

  “You can find out from A.J. what the hell is going on with Jessie.”

  “I said I wouldn’t put him in the middle of it.”

  “If you don’t want to help, then don’t offer to do anything. The only thing you can do in this situation is the thing you don’t want to do, so why did you even offer?”

  “Okay, we’re going around in circles, and I’m gonna get dizzy. If there is anything I can do for you, besides putting A.J. in the middle of something that might not even have anything to do with you, give me a call.”

  “You’re right. I just have a really bad feeling about this.”

  “Talk to your almost husband, Teagan. Put on your big girl thong, and tell him how you feel.”

  “You’re right. If I can’t talk to him, then we have a problem. I guess I’m just afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”

  I’m not that much of a huggy person, but I gave Teagan a hug. She cried. Not an ugly cry. Just a couple of tears. It broke my heart. Teagan isn’t normally like this.

  “You want a cup of tea? We can talk about it.”

  “No, I’m going to go home. Maybe I can figure out what to say. It�
��s so stupid. I’m not like this. I don’t know what my problem is.”

  “You and Jessie have known each other since you were kids. You have always been able to talk to him about anything. I’m not sure why you don’t feel you can talk to him now.”

  “Me either. It’s so strange. Ever since the big weekend, it feels like something just isn’t right.”

  “Talk to him. You don’t know until you ask. Teagan, you and all your theories about a gazillion different things are what is driving you crazy. It might be something simple and easy. Don’t make a thing out of nothing, or at least until you know what the thing is.”

  Teagan left, and I sat on the couch feeling really guilty. Hadn’t Jessie and A.J.’s disagreement been about A.J. not wanting to mess up his relationship with me and with my family?

  I don’t think I told her that. I only told her that A.J. didn’t want to be in the middle of it. Half a truth.

  My mother was talking in my head again.

  Half a truth isn’t a truth at all.

  Obviously, A.J. not wanting to mess up his relationship with the family and me had nothing to do with her work and was a pretty big deal. I felt like I was throwing Teagan in the middle of a big mess without warning.

  At the same time, it is her relationship with Jessie, and I don’t need to be in the middle of it.

  How do you get to be our age and have problems like this? It feels like high school. Maybe it’s because we finally found our forever guys. No guy has ever come in the middle of us because no guy has ever been as important as the family. Normal people get into these relationships earlier than we did, I guess. Or maybe we just make O’Flynns so important that no guy was ever able to get a strong enough foothold. That’s probably not a really healthy thing. I’d have to think about that.

  By the time A.J. got home, I’d talked myself into a really bad mood. The fact of the matter is that even if A.J. didn’t want to be in the middle of something with Jessie, that didn’t mean he should keep whatever it is from me. Now we have this big thing between us. If he really didn’t want to be in the middle of it, wouldn’t it make a lot more sense for him to just tell Jessie that he wasn’t going to keep the secret — whatever the secret is — and tell me?

  I walked out in the living room, ready to tell A.J. exactly what I thought of his new secret society with Jessie, until I saw his face.

  “What happened?”

  He fell back onto the couch. “There was a break-in at the studio.”

  “Oh, no. What did they get?”

  “Cara, they completely trashed the place. They broke everything that was breakable.”

  “Did they get into the safe? What about your equipment?”

  “They didn’t get in the safe. Insurance covers whatever is broken. That isn’t the problem.”

  “What?”

  “Joe and Ben.”

  “The bouncers from the bar? What about them?”

  “They are in the hospital. Joe’s cut up pretty bad. Ben isn’t much better. The guys had knives. Thank God they didn’t have guns.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Nothing right now.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I was kind of busy.”

  A.J. didn’t get it, and now probably wasn’t the time to tell him, but it wasn’t about having time. It was about keeping me out of his life. About having this huge trauma and not turning to me. I tried not to be hurt, but it didn’t work.

  Since she owns the bar the guys worked at and the studio that A.J. rents space in, I assumed that Jovana would be involved. “What did Jovana say?”

  “They weren’t actually working. They were in Old Town on their time off. I guess Ben is dating a girl who works at the theater, and Joe had the vintage place holding something for him, so they decided to go down there and grab lunch, see the girl at the theater, pick up the stuff from the vintage place, and then hit the gym. Somewhere between the vintage place and the gym, all hell broke loose.”

  “Was it the guys who got the old man?”

  “They are idiots. They had to know they would be caught on camera. It’s in the news every ten minutes. They have cameras everywhere in Old Town. The last big event down there, they arrested a couple of most-wanted types because of that facial recognition software they were experimenting with.”

  “Maybe they are just stupid.”

  “Or maybe there is more to it and they don’t care if they get caught. I don’t know. All I know is that Ben and Joe are good guys and they are in the hospital because they were trying to help me.”

  “It would have been better if they’d just called the police.”

  “They thought I was in the studio. The only reason they went in instead of just letting the guys destroy the place was to save my ass.”

  “Why would they do that in daylight hours? Break into your place, I mean. You would think they would have at least waited for nighttime.”

  “Maybe, but to be realistic, there are more people wandering around Old Town at night than there are during the daytime.”

  “That’s true.” I tried to get my brain moving in the direction of actually helping. “Do Ben and Joe have family? Should we be contacting someone? What about medical insurance? If they don’t have it, will your insurance cover it?”

  “Shit. I didn’t even think of that. I gotta make some calls.”

  “You want food?”

  “No. I’m gonna take a shower and think. Then I’ll try to track down some information.”

  “How long are the guys going to be in the hospital?”

  “Not too long. They are all cut up, but they didn’t hit any major organs. They are stitched and stapled and glued together. Now they watch them.” A.J. shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

  “What happened to the bad guys?”

  “They are in the hospital too. One with a suspected head injury. One with a broken jaw, well, pretty much a broken face. The big guy was complaining of chest pains. They brought him in. Cop laughed and said he wasn’t worried. It’s just a ploy.”

  I didn’t say anything, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the bad guys sued A.J. faster than the good guys. Everything A.J. has worked so hard for might go away just because he did the right thing and stepped in when the bad guys were trying to hurt the old man.

  I didn’t even know what to say.

  While A.J. was in the shower, I called my Mom. Explained everything that had happened and asked her to say a prayer.

  This could get ugly.

  TEN

  A.J. WAS GONE before the sun came up. He wanted to check on Joe and Ben. He wanted to check on the studio. He wanted to check on Jovana’s insurance. He had some, but it was Jovana’s building, not his, so her insurance should come into play as well.

  He had confided, in the dark while we were in bed, in whispered conversation that had lasted all night, that he was afraid that if things got too bad for Jovana, she would just shut the place down. She almost never came in anymore. There was no reason to keep the studio open for his share of the rent. Her photography had never been their primary source of income, but she had more than broken even, and if this incident ended up costing her too much, he might not have a studio to work in anymore.

  Virtually all of his income came from the project with Morgan to revitalize Old Town. She had most of her eggs in the Old Town basket too, so if he failed, he’d bring Morgan right down with him.

  He employed Suzi, who had a new baby, and where would she find work? Especially with a schedule as flexible as she had while she was working for him?

  The worry about her grandchildren would definitely put his grandmother into a tailspin, so he would be responsible for her going into a deep depression again just like she had when his grandfather had died.

  And that didn’t even address the responsibilities he had in our household.

  I was quick to point out that I could cover all of our expenses for the apartment. Adeline was very generous, and I’d never had
such a large income. He could put that worry out of his mind. I knew that A.J. liked to hear it, but would never take me up on it unless he had no other choice.

  I actually felt better that I could contribute something, if only paying the rent.

  I felt so helpless.

  First Jessie and Teagan, now my own things with A.J. If this had been a year ago, I would have known exactly what to do. Get in the middle of it, work my butt off, and not stop until everything was fixed.

  Now I wasn’t sure I could fix everything, and even if I figured out how, I wasn’t sure that I should.

  But I had to do something.

  I texted A.J.: Would you like me to go to the hospital and check on Ben and Joe? Make sure they are okay and see if they need anything?

  He responded immediately: I’m already here. Waiting to give Joe a ride home. Insurance guy at studio getting pissed.

  Me: You want me at studio or hospital?

  A.J.: Could you b @ hospital in 30-40?

  Me: Be there in 25. General?

  A.J.: Yep. Sorry. General Hospital. Drive to the east side entrance. Park in little lot to left. Info at desk. Thanks.

  I got to the hospital in twenty-three minutes. Found the lot with no problem. The lot is there to park your car until you are ready to load a patient. Kind of like the cell lot at the airport. There was a security guard walking around making sure that you weren’t taking advantage of the proximity of the lot to the hospital. Whoever planned the expansion a few years ago forgot that people need to park, so most of the parking is done in a parking structure about two blocks down the street. Everybody complains, but there isn’t much they can do about it now.

  I jogged to the door. There was a big semi-circular desk just inside with four elderly volunteers in powder-blue jackets.

  I gave them Joe’s name. “Hi, I’m here to pick up Joe.”

  “Last name?”

  Good question. My blush had started to work its way up my body, but before it made my neck, I saw Joe being pushed down the hall towards me. The man is huge even sitting in a wheel chair.