The Teashop Girls

by Laura Schaefer

  “Harsh, Gen.”

  “It would totally work.”

  “Maybe.” Zoe slurped up the rest of her drink and leaned back in her chair. “Anyway, we’re not going to do anything. The point is, I already nailed Zach in the head for playing like a weasel. I even messed up his stupid faux-hawk. So we better let it rest or I’ll be out for the rest of the season.”

  “That’s so mature of you, it makes me sick,” Genna said, disgusted.

  “Eh, a couple of the players have already decided to TP his house this weekend after the tourney,” Zoe added sheepishly.

  “Awesome! You want to help them, Annie? Annie?” Genna spun around in her chair to see Jonathan enter the shop. I was nonchalantly flipping the board back over. I figured my One True Love didn’t need to know that I was fond of circulating petitions through my school or capable of bribery.

  “Hey, Jonathan. These are my friends.”

  “Annie, what’s up? I forgot my math book.” I made the introductions and saw that Gen looked impressed with Jonathan’s hotness. He looked even cuter than usual because it was a humid day and it made his hair stick to the back of his neck a bit.

  “So I heard all this new furniture was your idea.” Zoe looked at Jonathan with an annoyed expression on her face. I bit my lip.

  “Yup. What do you think?”

  “Sucks. I liked the old stuff.” Sometimes I wished I could be as certain as Zoe. She didn’t wait for other people to give an opinion before agreeing with it. She just said what she thought. I sent her positive mental waves.

  “Well, come in and spend five hundred bucks a day and I’ll get it back for you.”

  “Right. I can see your new decorating is bringing in swarms of new customers,” Zoe shot back. Jonathan sighed and slumped onto a stool at the counter.

  “Yeah, it’s not good. One more month of days like this and Annie and I will no longer have jobs.”

  “It’s not that bad is it? This place has been around longer than I have.” To Genna, that meant it was somehow permanent. Zoe sat up, looking concerned.

  “Yeah. It is that bad. But don’t worry, with our experience I’m sure Annie and I can always get a job across the street.” He patted my shoulder, but I didn’t even feel a single stomach butterfly. “Anyway, is Louisa still here?”

  “Um, yeah, in the back,” I said, distracted. Jonathan disappeared.

  “I don’t know, Annie,” Zoe said. “He’s kind of a jerk.”

  “Sheesh,” Genna agreed. “You’re right, though. Major yum.”

  “Annie, stop looking like your dog just died,” Zoe urged. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.” I fiddled with my hair, wishing Zoe was right.

  “Do you see how bummed I look? We have got to do something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever Meg Ryan did in You’ve Got Mail!”

  “Didn’t the store close at the end of the movie?” Zoe asked.

  “Okay, whatever she did, but better! You see, Jonathan thought he could save this place by making it more like …” I jerked my thumb toward the opposite side of the street. “But we know what it’s really about.”

  “You are one gosh-darn chipper girl, Annie Meghan Green. How have I put up with you all these years?” Genna smiled and started placing her artwork around the shop. “Not to sound like Ms. Doomsday, but don’t you think it might be tough to pass eighth grade, do all your chores, make Zach Anderson sorry he was born, and save the Leaf? Especially since your OCD demands that you write nine amusing lists per day?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, God,” Zoe muttered. “I can see the wheels turning. You think you can make Jonathan fall in love with you if you somehow manage to single-handedly get a bunch of customers in here.”

  “Not single-handedly.”

  “Is this where we all put our hands in the center of the circle and shout ‘Teashop Girls Power!’?”

  “Yes.”

  I looked at my two best friends expectantly, who nodded and bounced out of their chairs. Gen and Zo gave me their pinkies and we all solemnly shook.

  During World War II, my great-grandmother Cecilia worked long hours in a factory doing her part for the war effort. When she got home in the evening she’d always make herself a cup of tea to relax and a little cup for Louisa as well. It was their special tradition and now it’s ours.

  Chapter Twelve

  If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me coffee.

  —ABRAHAM LINCOLN

  The New Leaf of Jonathan’s dreams was a dismal failure. There was no other word for it. Business was slumping even more than it had been when I was first hired. Louisa was forced to close the shop even earlier because it was so expensive to run all the lights and the monster espresso machine. The owner of the building served the Leaf a new eviction notice, which gave us three weeks to clear out in the event of another late payment of rent.

  I was never on the schedule at the same time as Jonathan because it was clear there weren’t enough customers for two baristas. Regardless, I refused to get too upset. Genna and Zoe had promised they would do whatever I wanted in order to save the shop. The Teashop Girls could not, would not fail.

  Top Ten Eleven Ways the Teashop Girls Will Save the Steeping Leaf and Put a Certain Demonic Coffee Chain Out of Business, or at Least the Monroe Street Location

  1. Hold more events:

  Poetry readings

  Book signings

  Open-mike night

  Cooking classes

  Herbal remedy classes

  matchmaking night for single people

  afternoon tea, like they have at the Plaza, by reservation only

  2. print up pretty fliers designed by Genna and staple them around the university.

  3. get the local media to feature the place … as it was.

  4. Hold a grand thirtieth-anniversary celebration for all the neighbors and regulars.

  5. put coupons in the student papers and hand out yummy samples all over town.

  6. Stage a demonstration in front of competitor.

  7. get all friends at school and their families to boycott competitor.

  8. get more varieties of tea, not fewer.

  9. Find a way to emit the smell of freshly baked scones into the street.

  10. Bring back French soaps … sell French soaps!

  11. Pair up with spas for cross-promotion.

  I was proud of my work. It had taken me two whole days of thinking to put the list together. I even talked to my dad. He looked happy to be asked about a problem he understood, instead of the usual daughter dramas involving unruly red hair. He gently reminded me, however, that no matter how much the Teashop Girls managed to increase business in the next few weeks, an eviction notice was very serious. As if I didn’t know. As it turned out, my mother and he had spent several long hours going over their finances, trying to figure out a way to buy Louisa’s building, but they just couldn’t find a way to afford it. I think they’ve already been helping with a portion of the rent and my mom’s practical side won’t let that go on much longer. In her opinion, Louisa should probably retire.

  I had only an hour left of my shift before closing time and was thinking about Jonathan’s reaction when he learned that the shop had become a multimillion-dollar empire. He would have to admit he was wrong about the whole French soap thing and retie both my shoes, and then who knows … Beth would be leaving for college, after all. I planned to talk to Louisa about it while we were cleaning up. My grandmother was on the phone in back, trying to negotiate with some suppliers.

  She emerged from her office and turned to me, looking less than centered.

  “It is hard to practice loving-kindness with wholesalers, my sweetness. It’s like they’re doing me a favor, selling me their products. And the prices! You would think these tea leaves were made of pure gold. They’re really pushing those pyramid shaped teabags, but you know how I feel about those, dear.” I did.
Some tea drinkers liked the three-dimensional nylon bags because they allowed more room for the tea to expand. But Louisa would never use them because the synthetic nylon wasn’t good for the environment.

  “I’m sorry, Louisa. Listen, I don’t know if this is a good time or not, but I’ve been thinking about a couple new ways to drum up some more business.”

  “Oh goodness, not you too. I suppose you want me to get all matching mugs or something.”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I think we should make the Steeping Leaf like it was … only better. Genna and Zoe and I want to make sure it’s still here when we have Teashop Girls of our own.”

  “I’m listening …”

  I flipped over the board and proudly displayed my list. I offered to work on planning events during my normal shifts between serving customers. It wasn’t going to be difficult, since I probably make only a handful of drinks each hour. Louisa couldn’t help but be impressed. Which was a good thing, because I already e-mailed every feature writer in the city I could find, and one of them was showing up in five minutes to interview Louisa about her shop.

  “Well, Annie dear, everything looks pretty interesting.” Louisa smiled. “Do you really want to do the extra work?”

  “Oh, yes. This place means a lot to me. I’ll submit everything for your approval before I go too crazy. I promise. Oh! And I want to call about maybe getting this building registered as an official historical place.”

  “All right, then. Carry on, love. You’ve got spunk.”

  “I’m very glad you feel that way, because Ally Livingston from the Isthmus is going to be here in about two minutes to interview you.”

  “Annie!”

  “What? It’ll be good. She said she had a piece fall apart at the last minute, so she’s going to put us in this week’s issue!”

  Louisa looked slightly dazed for a minute and then recovered, quickly surveying the store to see that everything was in place. I straightened out my apron and grinned.

  “What are these?” Louisa gestured to Genna’s prints, which were resting against the back of the counter.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Genna wants to know if you’d be interested in taking these on, um, consignment? She’s an aspiring artist, you know. She said to tell you that her influences are, um, Andy Warhol, Rene Magritte, and Annie Lebowitz? Does that sound right? If you don’t like them, it’s okay.”

  “No, they’re fun. I’ll put them over here. The walls are so bare; it’s making me nervous anyway. Tell Genna thank you for me.”

  The shop door jingled and a woman with a camera stepped over the threshold. I ran up to greet her, trying not to bounce too much.

  “Ms. Livingston? I’m Annie Green.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “And this is Louisa Shanahan. We’re so happy you’re here.”

  Here is a sketch Genna drew of our tea counter at the Leaf. It shows some of our many tea varieties and a triple layer cake minus the hearty piece Louisa and I ate. If only we could get her to do more drawings like this and less thumb art …

  Chapter Thirteen

  A Proper Tea is much nicer than a Very Nearly Tea, which is one you forget about afterwards.

  —A. A. MILNE

  I wandered home, sorry to be leaving the shop, but I had my tea paper to finish and, I was freaking out because I had waited until the last possible moment. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in… . I tried to think some calming thoughts. It could be worse. Everything was going to be okay. I could do the writing before bedtime and wake up a little early tomorrow before school and print it out. I already had a topic, an outline, and a rough draft, after all. I remembered that I wanted to add some things: June is National Iced Tea Month (how cool is that?), and there was once talk in Washington, DC, back in the 1920s, of making tea the national beverage. I walked through my front door just as the phone was ringing. Billy picked it up, still in a trance from his video game.

  “’Lo? … Yeah. Hey. No, she’s gone. I dunno.”

  “Billy! I’m here.” I rushed to the phone. “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” Zoe’s voice announced. “What are you doing?”

  “I have to write a paper. It’s due first period.”

  “Oh. Well, you can stay up late, I do it all time. I got us in at Samadhi Spa!”

  “What?”

  “You know, to help promote the shop!”

  “Wow, that was fast. Fantastic, Zo.”

  “My mom is friends with the owner. She says she’s really nice and definitely wants to meet us. Genna said she’d do the talking. Meet up at my place?”

  “Okay, sounds good. I just have to change clothes.”

  “’Kay.” We hung up and I went to my room, rummaged through my closet to find some nice clothes, and changed. Thank goodness my parents were at a concert. Wait, that meant Beth was in charge. Horrors. I put my hair into a ponytail and knocked on my sister’s door.

  “Hey,” I said. Dear sis looked up uninterestedly from her issue of Vanity Fair.

  “What’s with you?” Beth gestured to the dressy outfit.

  “Oh, it’s for the Leaf. I have to go back to work.” Well, in a way.

  “Whatever.” My sister didn’t even question it. “It’s your turn to empty the dishwasher and clean out Truman’s cat box.”

  “Okay.”

  I hurried over to Zoe’s place and met her and Genna. Both of them looked very determined; I was so sure nothing could stop us … not even rain this time. We all headed down to the shopping area near the Leaf on our bikes, talking all the way about how the Samadhi Spa could help our cause.

  “I bet they could use Louisa’s tea in their waiting room!” Genna cried, gesturing so much she almost fell off her pink vintage cruiser.

  “Or in their skin treatments,” Zoe agreed. She carefully steered around a pothole. “A tea facial. Or a tea bath!”

  “Mmm, sounds nice,” I said. I’d never been to a spa, but I could imagine how fun it would be to have good-smelling things rubbed on my face. I carried the Handbook with me just in case, and it turned out to be a good thing. Genna wanted to take a look at the “Health Benefits of Tea” page. She’s hoping to turn it into posters made of rice paper from the art studio at school and have it proudly displayed at lots of places like Samadhi Spa. I just hoped the owner there would steer customers in our direction. After all, they were a local business too. I was sure we could help each other.

  We arrived at the spa just as the sun was starting to set. The orange light filled the tranquil front room, and I breathed in its perfumed air. A receptionist with stick-straight hair welcomed us. The place was super fancy. I was impressed. All the furniture was low and plain but looked very expensive. There were a few white candles arranged on the tabletops, and a large bamboo tree in the corner. On the front desk sat a bonsai plant. Genna, armed with the Handbook for courage, stepped forward and was shown to another room to meet with Samadhi’s owner. I was so glad she had volunteered to talk. I would have been so scared.

  Zoe and I sat in the waiting area and were quiet for several minutes. It just seemed like the kind of place you weren’t supposed to talk much. We stared at a small waterfall trickling near the front desk. Finally, Zoe leaned over to me to whisper.

  “What do you think she’s saying in there?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” Then I said, “Well, I’m sure she’s explaining the Leaf’s troubles and hopefully getting the Samadhi Spa to help. Don’t you think it would be nice to have afternoon tea after a massage or whatever?” I wasn’t sure exactly what went on in spas, but I was pretty sure a massage was part of the deal.

  “Definitely. Annie? I have a question for you.” Zoe looked hesitant, which was unlike her. Usually she looked like she was on her way to take over a small nation.

  “Okay, what is it?”

  “Well, you know how I hit Zach with a serve?”

  “Sure, I think it’s awesome,” I replied.

  “I know, everyone does. Bu
t it bothers me. I’ve never totally lost it like that on the court before. I was so angry,” she said.

  “We understand, Zo. Anyone would be.”

  “Maybe. But the thing is, I don’t really want to be like that. I know my parents disagree, but it really is just a game.” I thought about Zoe’s parents for a minute. They usually seemed mad about something. I guess I was pretty lucky to have a mom and dad like mine. “Anyway, remember when Louisa used to talk to us about monks in Japan? How peaceful they are? I want to be more like them.”

  “You do?” I wondered if any monks had ever won a tennis match.

  “Yes, I do. So … I was thinking maybe Louisa could give us, like, a meditation lesson.” She picked at her fingernail and looked at me. I was surprised. Zoe was so practical and scientific about things that it seemed odd she wanted to learn how to think about nothing. But that’s just what she seemed to want. I was kind of happy for her. I knew Louisa would enjoy teaching the practice of meditation. She had meditated every day for many, many years. I believe my grandfather had done it as well, often right out on the patio at the Leaf.

  “I’m sure she would be happy to, Zo. Why don’t you come by the shop tomorrow after practice?” I offered.

  “Okay, I will.”

  Genna came out then and gave us the thumbs-up. We shook hands with the owner lady and were on our way. On the ride home, we interrogated Gen.

  “Sooooo? What did she say?” Zoe asked.

  “She was really nice,” Genna said, drawing out the suspense. “She said that she would be happy to hand out tea samples and include an afternoon tea at the Leaf as part of some of her packages.”

  “Yes!” I whooped, clapping and almost falling off my bike. “Good job, Gen.”

  “Yeah, totally,” agreed Zoe. We all smiled as Genna continued.

  “She’ll be calling Louisa tomorrow morning to work out all the details.” Gen paused, thoughtful. “I’m going to also talk to the people at my theater, and see if maybe they’d give us a deal on advertising both the teashop and the spa in the Much Ado About Nothing playbills.”