“Yeah, I’m just about packed and everything,” agreed Meg.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
“We’ll split a pot of Peach Paradise,” answered Denise. I went to prepare the tea and returned to the two friends, eager to hear more about their plans.
“So, where will you visit first?” I looked over all the books closely, yet kept my ears open to what was going on in the rest of the shop in case anyone else needed me.
“We land in Thailand, Bangkok to be exact. We’ll spend several days there, then eventually make our way to Angkor Wat. Our schedule is pretty loose, actually,” Meg said, sounding like one of my little brothers at Christmas, all bubbly and animated. She showed me a picture of the ancient temple, which looked like it was straight out of Indiana Jones. So cool.
“What an adventure.” I smiled. “Maybe someday I will do that.”
“Maybe someday you will,” agreed Meg. “Especially with Louisa’s blood in your veins. Is she here?”
“Yes, but she’s napping in back,” I announced solemnly. “I think it’s just a bit of a cold, but I said I could handle things so she could rest.”
“Well, it looks like everything is fine,” Denise said nicely. “The tea is delicious as usual.”
“Thank you.”
I checked on the patio and returned to the counter to do a few dishes and straighten our shelves. I adjusted the music volume a bit and made sure we had enough napkins fanned out on the tables. The door jingled and Zach Anderson walked in. I groaned. Not again.
“Hey, Green.”
“Zach. What a terrible surprise.” He was wearing a shirt and tie, which was very weird. He usually wore expensive, slouchy jeans with a track jacket. “You’re looking suspiciously respectable.”
“Well, I haven’t changed my socks in three days.”
“Ewww!”
“So this is where the magic happens. I’ll take an iced, tall, double, no-whip, skim, half-caf latte with a shot of vanilla.” He tapped his foot. I just stared at him. “Ha-ha, just kidding. I’m going to brunch in a minute. Can I have some water?” I filled a glass and looked at him with my eyebrows raised. As much as the Leaf needed new customers, I didn’t really want Zach to be one of them.
“What’s up, Zach?”
“I saw your poetry reading signs. I thought maybe I’d stop by and see if this would be a good property for my dad to knock over.”
“Very funny.” I remembered Mr. Anderson’s visit and shivered.
“And you’ll be happy to know that the TP has dissolved from my lawn.”
“Too bad.”
“So Genna’s party was interesting.” He made a clucking sound with his tongue. “Did you get in trouble for being out past ten?”
“It was fun. Such a pity you were there.” I narrowed my eyes at him and ignored his question. What was his problem?
“Oh, I get around. I even personally watered her lawn on the way home.”
“Very mature.”
“Thanks. Anyway, you might want to ask your friend what she said about this summer. After you left. Sounds like there will be one less Teashop Girl around.”
“Zach, as usual I have no idea what you’re babbling about, and I have work to do.”
“Fine, I’ll see you at school.”
“Unfortunately.” I glared at him as he wandered out the door with a wave. What was he talking about?
Annie’s To-Die-For Cucumber Sandwiches
* * *
INGREDIENTS
1 small cucumber, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon lemon juice
½ teaspoon sea salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon fresh garlic, finely minced
10 slices brown bread, lightly toasted
¼ cup unsalted butter
cup sour cream
* * *
Combine cucumber slices, lemon juice, salt, pepper, and garlic in a bowl.
Butter each toasted side of the brown bread and arrange the cucumber mixture on top of each in layers.
Cut sandwiches in half.
Add a small dollop of sour cream on top and garnish with a thin cucumber sliver.
Serves 5 (unless Zach is around, then serves 2).
Chapter Twenty-One
Meanwhile, let us have a sip of tea… . Let us dream of evanescence, and linger in the beautiful foolishness of things.
—OKAKURA KAKUZO, THE BOOK OF TEA
Genna, what is with you today? I said Orlando Bloom or Jason Sinowski?” Me and Zoe were chilling out in Genna’s pool. We were playing one of our favorite games—Who Would You Rather Be Stranded on a Desert Island With?—before Gen and I had to go back to the Steeping Leaf for its first Official Event. Zoe had refused to write, or listen to, any poetry. She said she’d go to Louisa’s herbal remedy workshop, though. Her elbow was always a problem.
“Um, Orlando Bloom. I don’t care which football player you offer me, Annie. I’m always going to go with the movie star. Hel-lo. How would Jason Sinowski help me get discovered once we were rescued?” Genna was subdued; I figured it was probably because her parents weren’t too happy about the pool party reports and were being much more attentive.
“It’s not about what happens when you get rescued,” Zoe pointed out. She was floating on an air mattress.
“Okay. Andy Roddick or Jonathan Schultz?” I asked Zoe. Zoe would play the game only if an athlete was included as one of her choices.
“Right. I’m really going to choose Barista Boy and have you start gnawing on my arm. Roddick.” Zoe splashed me and Genna floated away.
“Tom Brady or Justin Timberlake?”
“Tom Brady.”
“Gen, you look like you swallowed a bug. Come on, your turn,” Zoe urged. Genna paddled back to us and tried to come up with something.
“Annie. Sam Jones or Greg Gonzales?” Genna named two cute guys in our class.
“Eh, either. I don’t care.” I was only interested in sharing my island with one particular boy. I sat on two water noodles and shivered.
“You have to choose!” Genna said loudly. “I mean, there are other guys in the world besides Jonathan.” She added, more quietly, “Look, Annie, before you got to my party, Jonathan and I talked a little.”
“Really?” I splashed her and my ears perked up. “What did you talk about?”
“Not much.”
“Genna, what did you talk about?”
“Well …” She paused for a long time, as if trying to decide how to tell me something bad. “I hate to be the one who has to say this, but your boy is in love with your sister.” I saw Zoe and Genna exchange a look, and I sighed a loud sigh. It wasn’t anything I didn’t know. I just felt really embarrassed that my friends had to tell me. When they got crushes on boys, the boys usually crushed right back. It was so humiliating! Why did my mom have to make Beth help that day at the Leaf? Why, why, why?
“I know,” I said in a tiny voice.
“Maybe once we’re in high school …” Zoe offered feebly. I sent her a thankful look but still frowned.
“I’m sorry, Annie. He’s not that cute,” Genna said. She floated over to me and took my hand sort of awkwardly. “I’ll help you find another guy, but I don’t think it’s going to happen this summer.” Again, she exchanged a glance with Zoe, and I started to get really worried. Zach’s ominous comment, the one I had pushed right out of my mind the moment he said it, reappeared in my head. Why would there be one less Teashop Girl?
“What’s up, Gen?” I asked, meeting her eyes.
“Well, I’m going away for a little while. I got accepted into this theater camp in upstate New York that starts right after school and lasts for the summer.”
“What?” I said. “The whole summer?”
“Yeah,” said Genna, “the director in Spring Green recommended me, and it’s a pretty big deal. I need to spend these last few weeks of school working with my acting coach to prepare. I can’t help anymore with Operatio
n Save the Leaf. I just found out yesterday.”
“Oh.” At first, what Genna said didn’t seem like that big of a problem. I mean, after all, people went to camp all the time. I had even gone to camp last year, and it was really fun. Normal camp, that is, not theater camp. But then what Genna said sunk in a little. Just when the Leaf needed her most—needed the Teashop Girls the most—when we were making real progress, she was abandoning it and abandoning me. Why did Genna need to go away to some stupid camp that would turn her into an icky, skinny actress who only went to awards shows and stupid fancy restaurants with one-word names? Was she too good for us now? Why wasn’t Madison enough for her? I suddenly felt really angry. Everyone seemed to have forgotten the Leaf, and Jonathan liked Beth and not me. And now my best friend was leaving me when I needed her most. I felt so helpless, and at that moment, the person right before me was Genna and her stupid New York theater camp. All these weeks of working and trying and failing and trying again and stressing about Louisa and the teashop and everything and everyone. I was ready to explode.
“Well that’s … really dumb.”
This ad is funny because it is all about trying to get men to drink tea. Which they totally should! Tea helps to prevent some kinds of cancer and heart disease. And it’s good for your teeth. And what guy doesn’t want nice teeth? Well, probably Zach, but that’s another story.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I always fear that creation will expire before teatime.
—SYDNEY SMITH
I bit my lip. The three of us had never really fought before or said anything even the tiniest bit mean to each other. After all, it was against Handbook rules. But the words hung in the air, and I wished that I could grab them down. Zoe looked back and forth between us. My face flushed red. Genna got up and ran upstairs.
“Annie …” Zoe awkwardly put her arm around me. I could tell she didn’t know what to say. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“How could she leave, when we promised to save the shop?”
“It’s a really good opportunity for her. That place is, like, famous.”
“So?”
Zoe was silent for a long time. “Hey—it’s not about you.” I frowned at her.
“But how could she go behind my back like that and even apply to this place? She’s my best friend!” Genna and I talk about every tiny detail of our existences. Once we chattered for four hours about how to decorate our locker doors (we made magnets with my mom’s glue gun; it was totally awesome). It was impossible that something as huge as this could’ve gone completely undiscussed. I didn’t understand how Gen could just decide something without me. I’d never even heard of her “famous” camp.
“Let’s talk to her, find out the details. It’s not the end of the world, Annie. I’m still here.” I blinked back tears and sniffled, following Zo out of the pool. “Genna? Come out. Where are you?” Zoe called.
“I’m in my room.” A small voice came from upstairs.
“Come down.”
After an eternity, Genna came out. She looked annoyed and glared at me. “It would be nice if my best friend could be happy for me.”
“How long are you gone for?” I glared back, crossing my arms. I’m not proud of it, but it’s what I did.
“Look, aren’t you even going to apologize and congratulate me?” Genna pouted a bit. Her dramatic side wasn’t making the situation any better. I could feel my cheeks flush red in anger.
“We need you here.”
“No, you don’t. Not really. I mean, come on. How much can we do anyway? We’re in eighth grade. If the Leaf closes, it closes. Tough cookies, life goes on.” Genna crossed her arms. So there.
“I can’t believe you. I thought you had faith in us. Was all of that work a joke to you? Does the teashop even matter to you?” I could feel this terrible weight on my chest. Genna didn’t think we could actually make a difference. Perhaps she never thought we could, and was only humoring me and my little-girl world.
My eyes filled with tears. Maybe helping out at the Leaf was just a phase for Gen. She didn’t really care about it after all. I couldn’t hold back my anger. All my frustration came pouring out in one rambling sentence.
“You get whatever you want, Genna, and when you’re bored with something you are done with it … now you’re bored with helping with the Leaf and you’re probably bored with me and now your dumb theater camp is more important to you than the place where we spent our childhood and it’s more important than our friendship.”
“Get a grip, Annie. It’s just a stupid teashop. We’re too old for it anyway.” Genna shot back. It was as if she was talking to me from very far away.
“How can you even say that?” I felt like I might explode.
“How can you call my camp dumb?” Genna replied, her eyes flashing.
“All right, we’re leaving.” Zoe could see that I was too angry to be reasonable, so she dragged me out of there. I glared at both of my friends but left with Zo, mostly because she had my wrist.
“So much for the Teashop Girls,” I muttered as we collected our bicycles and started to ride home.
“Annie.”
“If it’s not about her, she doesn’t care about it. She’s unbelievable. You can’t be too old for tea.” I was shaking.
When we arrived at my doorstep, she hugged me and said, “It’s going to be okay. Go take a nap for a little while and try to calm down. I can still help, and Gen didn’t mean it. She does care about your shop.” I noticed Zoe said “your shop,” not “our shop.” I frowned at her.
“You sound like my grandmother.” You know what the thing is about people who are all reasonable and Zen? They can be really annoying.
I ran up to my room, shut the door, put on some music, and pulled out my homework. Since I was probably going to die without ever kissing a boy or saving the Leaf, I might as well get straight A’s.
Louisa has a silver tea service a lot like this one. It was given to my great-great-grandmother Sarah on her wedding day. Her parents escaped the famine of Ireland and she was the first child in the family born here in the United States. It makes me happy to think of so many generations of women using the same tea service.
Chapter Twenty-Three
There is a great deal of poetry and fine sentiment in a chest of tea.
—RALPH WALDO EMERSON
The poetry night was pretty much a disaster. I was too distressed to read the Pablo Neruda poem Louisa helped me pick out. I quietly introduced the five people who showed up, including Mr. Silverman. He could tell I wasn’t in the mood to talk poetry, and I could see that he was disappointed and a touch confused. Zoe came to make me feel better and read the poem that Genna had written for the event but was too busy practicing with her acting coach to come. I tried to figure out its hidden meaning, but it sounded like complete nonsense. Even though I was still in a fog of icky feelings over my fight Genna, I couldn’t help but smile a bit at the faces Zoe made while trying to get through the strange verses. Her voice wavered slightly as she read:
“My heart
like gravy or a growing vine
the ocean reef, the new bird’s song
Who needs to hear
a word a whisper
forever forever or never never
ask no questions, it will be tomorrow soon.”
Zoe was a girl who usually read things like Lance Armstrong’s autobiography, not stream-of-consciousness teen babble. She had to practically shake herself off when she was done. Louisa and Zoe chatted for several minutes. My grandmother asked after her parents, her meditating, and her tennis game, and Zoe tried some of the shop’s newer tea varieties. We didn’t mention Genna, and Louisa, noticing my cloudy face, didn’t ask.
Though my grandmother seemed unconcerned at the low turnout and reassured me that it was an enjoyable evening, the quiet night had put me in an even worse mood. After it was over and everyone had shuffled out, I put away the microphone and stared at Louisa’s herbal remedy chart.
Astragulus: diuretic, strengthens lungs, enhances immune function
Chamomile: soothing nerve tonic, aids insomnia
Echinacea: immune-system stimulant
Feverfew: migraine headache prevention
Garlic: blood pressure regulator, detoxicant
Ginger: digestive aid, fights nausea and stomach ailments
Gingko: increases blood flow to the brain, stimulates all blood vessels
Ginseng: energizer, immune-system strengthener
Milk thistle: treats liver disorders by stimulating production of new cells
Parsley: diuretic that helps eliminate all kinds of fluid retention
Red clover: anti-inflammatory
Rose hips: source of vitamin C, nourishes skin
Sage: stimulates the brain, improves memory
St. John’s Wort: treats headaches and mild melancholia
Yerba mate: powerful stimulant, weight-loss aid
• • •
It seemed clear that there was a cure for practically everything except a broken heart and a disloyal best friend.
“Would you like some rose hips, dear? Your color is a bit off.” It was just like Louisa not to ask me exactly what was the matter. I nodded and we sipped her restorative brew quietly. After a long while, I asked her a question.
“Why do the things we care about have to change?” I said this sort of into my teacup, but Louisa heard me. She brushed a strand of my curly hair back behind my shoulder and rearranged her scarves.
“I don’t really know the answer to that, sweetie. But I do know that sometimes change can be for the better.”
I snorted, wondering how. She smiled kindly.
“Sometimes things we care about move away to make space for other things. Take Beth for example. She’s going away to college, which is sad for us. But now you get a bigger bedroom, right? The universe provides. But not always according to orders.”
The Teashop Girls Page 12
