Teacup Novellas 01 - Tea With Emma

by Diane Moody

  “I feel perfectly wonderful, sweetheart. Now, sit. I want to hear everything. But first tell me why you’re so late? I expected you almost three hours ago.”

  Maddie fell onto the sofa beside Nana’s chair, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet beneath her. “I’m sorry. I should have called. Lanie arrived home to a crisis, and—”

  “Mercy, what now? That poor child lives in eternal calamity.”

  Maddie rubbed her eyes and yawned. “You’re not going to believe this. Alice was supposed to take care of Mr. Darcy. Well, apparently—being the selfish roommate that she is—she neglected to feed the poor cat and he died.”

  “Oh no. Mr. Darcy is dead?”

  “We’re guessing Alice must have spent most of the last fourteen days at her worthless boyfriend’s apartment. Left poor Mr. Darcy all alone without so much as a morsel. And Nana, you know how much Lanie loved that kitten! She couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t stop crying because she was crying—all the while, Alice acting like it wasn’t her fault that he died. Can you believe the audacity?”

  Tears pooled in Nana’s tired eyes. “Dear Lanie. I can’t even imagine how upset she must have been.”

  “Lanie was devastated. She kicked Alice out, told her to come back tomorrow for her things, then we buried poor Mr. Darcy.”

  “She must be heartbroken.”

  “Beyond heartbroken, but she wanted some time to herself, so she insisted I come on home. I guess she needs to grieve.”

  “Call and check on her first thing in the morning, will you?” Nana unlocked her wheelchair and pressed the lever to drive herself across the room. “Now you stay right there. I’ll go see if Gretchen will make us some tea.”

  Maddie stretched out on the sofa. “So, how did it work out with Gretchen? And please don’t tell me you’re going to hire her permanently and kick me out.” Maddie reached out to grasp her grandmother’s hand as she rolled by.

  “Gretchen is a sweetheart. But you’re my Maddie. Need I say more?” Nana winked and rolled out of the room.

  “Tea . . .” Maddie sat up, the entrepreneurial fires reigniting. “Nana, wait up! There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  Lanie pulled the last tissue from her box of Kleenex and blew her nose. The male voice from the speaker on her laptop beckoned.

  “Lanie, I’m so sorry. It’s killing me to hear you cry like this.”

  She wiped her nose again, thankful Jeff couldn’t actually see her in this state. Granted, he’d never actually seen her at all. At least not in person. They’d been cyber-friends for several months now, but had never met face-to-face. Video-chatting via Skype was their usual method of communication. But on a night like this, she’d opted against the video, simply talking through the audio version.

  “I just can’t seem to stop the tears, y’know? And yet I’m so angry, I could just BITE somebody!” she growled, holding back another sob.

  “Totally understandable. A helpless little kitten, left all alone? I mean, who does something like that? What was she thinking? Where did you find this roommate anyway—the heartless store?”

  “Not funny. Actually, she found me. Before my previous roommate Selena graduated, she told Alice about the apartment. They had some classes together or something. So Selena all but promised her she could move in with me once she moved out. I guess I should have checked her out better, but it was just so much easier than having to post ads for a new roommate or put the word out.”

  Jeff blew out a long sigh. “So you didn’t notice the she-devil horns when she first showed up?”

  Lanie wiped the remains of her mascara from her eyes. “No, she seemed fine. A little distant, but that’s actually not a bad thing for a roommate. I wasn’t looking for a gal-pal, just someone to help pay the rent. Guess I should have been a little more selective.”

  “I’d say that’s a slight understatement, wouldn’t you?”

  “No kidding.” She could hear the tapping on his keyboard when he answered.

  “Are you busy? I’m sorry, I’ve taken up way too much of your time.” She sat up, trying not to be hurt by his obvious distraction.

  “No, not at all, Lanie. I just had something I needed to order. I’m done. Sorry about that.”

  She rubbed her face, suddenly exhausted. “Well, I probably need to get to bed. It’s after 2:00 here. I’ve got to get up in a few hours to go to work. I haven’t even unpacked yet.”

  “Don’t go. Besides, it’s only midnight here in California. We’ve got worlds of time.”

  She could hear something pouring over ice through the speaker. “Yeah, well, you can’t exactly give me those two hours between us. What’s that you’re drinking?”

  “I’d give you those two hours if I could, though. Just so you know. And it’s Dr. Pepper, since you asked. I had a craving.”

  “Mmm. I haven’t had a Dr. Pepper since we left for England, and the fridge is bare. Could you bring one over?”

  “Wish I could. But mostly I wish I could give you a hug right now.”

  Lanie closed her eyes, trying to imagine how that would feel. This stranger she’d never met, so kind. So understanding of her broken heart. Oh, to be able to feel his arms around her . . . right here, right now.

  “That would be nice, Jeff.”

  She heard him inhale a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Someday, Lanie. Someday.”

  “G’night, Jeff.”

  “G’night, Lanie.”

  Chapter 3

  Ian tightened the belt of his robe before opening the heavy front door. As he maneuvered the crutches to propel himself through the door, the heat and humidity swallowed him whole. So this is autumn in Texas. Ghastly hot. And to think school starts Monday. Feels more like summer holiday.

  He spotted the folded newspaper on the sidewalk near the street and started toward it. The wide porch gracing the front of the house sat atop ten broad steps. For a moment, he contemplated forgetting it. As he’d told Howard, he could read the London Times online, but he much preferred to hold a newspaper in his own hands. He liked the smell of the ink and the rustle of the pages. He also wanted to be more cognizant of his Austin surroundings by a daily browsing of the local paper. Determined, he reached for the handrail and slowly hopped down on his good foot, one step at a time using only one crutch.

  “There now. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He limped up the brick path, leaning heavily on the crutch. Looking around, he noticed the houses were all quite old but in excellent shape. A canopy of trees covered the narrow street. An American flag snapped in the warm breeze at the house next door. Ian might have smiled at the Rockwellesque feel of it all, but he wasn’t in the mood. It was too hot. Besides, yesterday’s angst still gnawed at him. Grasping the crutch with one hand, he leaned over to grab the paper.

  “It’s you!”

  A woman’s voice startled him. Losing his balance, he hung onto the crutch for dear life while trying desperately not to put any weight on his bad foot. Hopping around like an eejit, he finally regained his balance and stopped the dreadful dance.

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to scare you!”

  The voice edged closer. Ian whipped his head around in time to see a flash of pastel pink crossing the street—an ankle-length cotton robe hovering over outlandish fluffy pink slippers.

  “Here, let me help you,” she begged, picking up the newspaper.

  “No, that’s not necessary,” he snapped, holding his hand up to stop the intruder. “I’m quite all ri—” The oxygen whooshed from his lungs when he recognized the fountain of blondish-red curls. The green eyes blinked back at him innocently. A growl erupted. “It’s—you!”

  Her eyes widened as a shy smile slowly crept across her face. She thinks I’m happy to see her! The woman is positively delusional!

  “Yes, I’m the one from the airplane yesterday and—”

  “I know exactly who you are!” he grunted. “And don’t think I’m not well aware of the fact it was
the wheel off your suitcase that gave me this!” Ian pointed to his bandaged foot. He could feel the vein on his neck pulsing.

  “Actually, no, it was Lanie’s wheel. You see—”

  “It doesn’t matter! I knew the two of you were trouble the minute you got on that plane. All that non-stop prattling and ridiculous giggling. Outrageous behavior for women your age. Absolutely outrageous! And if that weren’t enough, you go fumbling through the terminal, dropping your bags, causing mayhem—and breaking my foot!” He straightened, as if just pronouncing them guilty as charged in a court of law. He snatched the paper from her and started clomping back toward the steps.

  “But if you’ll just let me explain, I’m sure you’ll see that it was just an accident! I was horrified when that wheel came off and starting rolling toward you!”

  Ian stopped in his tracks without turning. He jerked his head to face her. “Do you mean to tell me you knew the wheel had come off? You saw it rolling toward me yet said nothing?”

  “I—I, well you see—”

  “Barbaric. Positively barbaric! You Americans have a lot to learn about common decency. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He hadn’t noticed he’d gotten in her face, mere inches from her. The realization stopped him cold.

  She dropped her head, lifting a palm to her forehead. When she looked up, her eyes glistened in the morning light. “I’m so sorry,” she began quietly. “I wanted to do something—say something, but Lanie thought we should—look, it doesn’t matter what happened. It was wrong of us. I’m trying to apologize as best I know how. I had no idea you might break your foot. Is it terribly painful? Are you all right?”

  Ian fought the urge to surrender. He fought the melting sensation drifting through him. He was much too close to her; her face even more lovely than he remembered. Not breathtaking or gorgeous, but a natural kind of beauty. Still, he mustn’t be swayed by her mere appearance. “Yes, it’s quite painful. I hardly slept at all last night, no thanks to you.”

  She leaned over, studying the boot on his injured foot. “They didn’t put a cast on it? That’s odd. I thought a break usually necessitated a—”

  “Yes, well, actually it isn’t completely broken. Just sprained. But a bad sprain. Very bad. And quite the inconvenience, too. I’m to start classes Monday and now look at me.” He lifted his chin in defiance and turned back toward the house again.

  “So that’s why you’re staying at the guest house. You’re a visiting professor, aren’t you?”

  The sound of her voice was too close. Good grief, she’s following me. “Yes, I am.”

  “What will you teach, Dr. Grant?”

  He stopped, turning again to face her. “How on earth could you possibly know my name?”

  A lazy smile tilted the right corner of her mouth. “That little sign, remember? The one Dr. Martin was holding when he greeted you. Had your name on it? Hard to miss.”

  He shook his head, weary of the conversation. “Yes, well, why don’t you scurry on home and leave me alone. I have work to do.”

  She darted in front of him. “The least I can do is help you up the stairs. Here, take my arm,” she offered, raising her elbow toward him.

  “I’ll do no such thing! I came down, I can most certainly go back up.”

  She pulled her arm back. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you? Are all the English so obstinate?”

  “Good day, Miss—”

  “Cooper. Madeline Cooper. Though my friends call me Maddie.”

  “Miss Cooper. Now if you’ll please honor my request and leave.”

  She turned toward the street, scuffing those fluffy pink slippers on the brick sidewalk. “As you wish, Dr. Grant. My grandmother and I live just across the street there. If you need help, please don’t hesitate to ask. We won’t bite . . . unless it’s contagious.”

  Maddie closed the door, then peeked through the sheers at the house across the street. Dr. Grant—Ian—was still struggling up the porch steps. A snort escaped as Maddie watched. One more step, dear grumpy man, and you’re home free . . . there you go. I knew you could do it. She smiled, watching him straighten himself, looking around though carefully avoiding a glance in her direction. He hobbled into the house and slammed the door.

  She continued spying, her mind whirling over the encounter. “You’re awfully young to be a visiting professor, Dr. Grant,” she mused out loud. “Most of those guys are old as the hills, with hair coming out of their ears and nose. I’m guessing you can’t be more than thirty-eight? Thirty-nine? Forty tops. So how did you end up in the Lonestar State at our little ol’ prestigious university?”

  With her thoughts lost on the mysterious guest living across the street, she suddenly noticed he’d pulled back the curtains in the front room, peering out the window, looking straight at her. She darted out of sight, her heart pounding.

  “Well, well, well, Dr. Grant. Seems you’re not the tough guy you pretend to be, now are you?”

  Later, Maddie rinsed the last of the breakfast dishes and placed it in the rack to dry. “Nana, don’t you think it’s providential that this Dr. Grant was on the same plane, that we had that, uh, ‘unfortunate’ situation arise so that we met, and now I find out that he’s living right across the street at Bradford House? I mean, what are the odds of that? It’s like God dropped him into my lap ‘for such a time as this.’ For me—Madeline Cooper—to find the perfect soul mate for him. If ever there was a man whose very essence cried out for female companionship, it is Dr. Ian Grant. And I’m just the one to find him that perfect companion!”

  Nana laughed heartily. “Oh honey, I hate to disappoint you but your name is Madeline, not Queen Esther. You do live in another realm, don’t you?”

  Nana’s gentle chuckle filled the room. Maddie poured them both another cup of tea then joined her grandmother at the kitchen table. “I have no idea what you mean. I’m as sane as the next person.” She couldn’t camouflage the grin tugging at her lips.

  Nana stirred cream into her teacup and continued. “Sane indeed. If I’d had any idea you’d come back from England with your head filled with all these grandiose, romantic notions, I might have thought twice about sending you in the first place. I fear you’ve been bitten by some idyllic Jane Austen bug but good. Might I remind you this isn’t eighteenth century England, and there are no fancy balls or elaborate picnics here in Austin. I don’t mean to burst your bubble, dear, but playing the matchmaker can be quite a dangerous task. And surely you remember Emma’s disastrous results?”

  “Now, Nana, where’s your sense of adventure? Why should Jane Austen have all the fun? I believe this trip was ordained by God. In fact, I’m quite certain of it.”

  At that pronouncement, Nana laughed out loud.

  Undaunted, Maddie continued. “I am! I believe with all my heart that God exposed me to Jane Austen’s world through that tour, gave me a genuine taste of her life and her utter romantic genius, then sent me home to bring a touch of her to all of us here. That’s why I’m the obvious choice to find a mate for Dr. Grant, and that’s why I’m going to open this tea room. Oh, Nana, won’t it be fun? I can hardly wait until we open!”

  Nana wiped her lips with the cloth napkin. “Oh, you’ll liven it up, all right. You always do. But as for our new neighbor Dr. Grant, why try to find him a girlfriend? Why don’t you just invite him over for dinner? Maybe you’re his perfect soul mate.”

  Maddie snorted, spilling her tea. “Now that’s funny. You should see his disdain every time he looks at me. He’d limp all the way back to England if he thought I had my sights on him. But thanks for the laugh, Nana. That’s a good one.”

  Nana backed her chair away from the table and buzzed over to the counter where she set her empty cup and saucer. “You’re much too picky, Madeline. One of these days you need to climb down out of that ivory tower and take a look around you. And don’t think I don’t know what all this nonsense about matchmaking is about.”

  She pulled alongside Maddie, reaching out to
stroke her hair with her good hand. “Just because your father was a sorry example of a gentleman—and an unaffectionate one at that—does not mean that all men are out to hurt you. Playing Cupid to avoid a relationship of your own can only lead to trouble, sweetheart.”

  Maddie looked down at her hands, uncomfortable with the conversation. Nana patted her granddaughter’s cheek, then pressed the lever to move her wheelchair toward the door. “And that’s all I’m going to say about that right now.”

  “Wait, Nana. We still need to talk about the tea room. I want to make sure you’re one hundred percent behind the idea. I can’t do it without your help, and for the record, I won’t do it without you.”

  She followed her grandmother down the hall to the living room. She loved watching her maneuver the automated wheelchair around the house with all the expertise of a Daytona 500 race car driver. Only a tad slower.

  “I’m already ten steps ahead of you, dear. Not only am I behind you and looking forward to our little adventure, I’ve already called Jonathan and invited him to dinner tonight to discuss our plans. He’ll need to help us with the financial arrangements and legal aspects. Besides, I value his opinions and want his input on this.”

  Dear Jonathan . . . what a perfect couple they’d make. Maybe we’ll add a little candlelight to set the mood tonight. I’ll pick up some fresh flowers and—

  “—which reminds me. Why don’t you call Lanie and invite her to join us. Maybe we can help get her mind off poor Mr. Darcy.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Oh Nana, have I told you lately how much I love you? There’s no place on earth I’d rather be than right here with you.” She hugged her grandmother then placed a loud, wet kiss on her wrinkled cheek.