The Diva Serves High Tea

by Krista Davis

  “Did you see Hunter in the back?” Francie asked.

  “I can’t believe he came.” Callie flushed.

  “I hear you had a date last night! Was it with Hunter?” Velma seemed eager to hear details.

  “I’ll never tell!” Callie chuckled and swept away.

  Velma and Francie turned to gaze at the man working on the laptop. He noticed them and gave a little wave.

  We helped ourselves to delicious treats as the auction began. Toward the front of the tearoom, where cases displayed their yummy goodies for take-out, a gentleman at a podium welcomed everyone as a younger man walked through the room, carrying the first item to be auctioned: a two-foot-tall Chinese vase.

  After he passed us, Velma turned to Francie. “Why would Callie have been evasive about a date with Hunter?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t tell you everything about her life,” suggested Nina.

  Francie selected a lavender macaron. “She had no qualms telling us how she left her husbands.”

  “Most odious men,” added Velma.

  “And she has told us tales about the bakery where she used to work.”

  Velma dabbed her mouth with a white napkin. “And about her deceased father, who wasn’t much better than that first husband of hers. Callie has had a hard life.”

  Nina raised her hand and waved it.

  “Did you just bid?”

  Nina grinned. “It’s such a rush, isn’t it? I love those Staffordshire dogs.”

  The man carrying them brought them by our table. The two dogs were white spaniels that appeared to be in good condition. Someone across the room was bidding against Nina.

  Miffed, she stood up to see who it was. When she sat down, her cheeks blazed, and she stopped bidding. Her opponent won.

  “Price get too high for you?” asked Francie.

  Nina swallowed hard. “No, that wasn’t it.”

  I rose up just a bit to see what was going on and my breath caught in my throat. Alex German, the attorney whom I had been dating, was celebrating the win with a disturbingly attractive brunette. Long, sexy bangs hid half her forehead, but there was no mistaking the high cheekbones and lovely face. I plopped into my chair, wondering who she was.

  “I’m sorry, Sophie.” Nina reached over and placed her hand on top of mine.

  “What? What happened?” demanded Francie. She held on to the arm of the sofa and stood up. When she sat down next to me, she spat, “He doesn’t deserve you. And to think I liked that boy!”

  Velma was next to crane her neck and stand for a better look. “Ohhh. Is that your boyfriend?” Her voice was low with disapproval. She sat down. “He’s very handsome. From the adoring way she’s smiling at him I don’t think she’s his sister, though. You’ve got trouble with a capital T, honey.”

  A queasy shiver rushed through me. It wasn’t like we were a big item. And heaven knew our relationship had been shaky up to now anyway. I sipped Irish Breakfast tea, feeling just a little bit numb. But the tea and a calm moment brought me to my senses. Maybe she was his adoring sister or niece. Maybe she was a client. The wife of a friend, perhaps? I eyed the cake with the lemon curd and helped myself, certain I would feel much better if I ate it. “Maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. After all, I go places with Bernie and Mars, and it doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Riiight,” Nina drawled, leaving no doubt that she didn’t believe that for a minute.

  I was grateful when another auction item was paraded by us. This time a stunning sapphire pendant drew our admiration. I dared to bid on it, knowing I wouldn’t win it for the low price where the bidding started. Suddenly, three people were vying for it and the price shot up. I was out.

  “I can’t believe you bid on that,” Nina wolfed a mini éclair.

  “I’m an opportunist. I didn’t think I’d really win a sapphire set in gold for that price but it was worth a shot.” While I enjoyed the heavenly sweet tart flavor of the lemon curd cake, the other three began to bid. A few minutes later, Francie won a stay in a honeymoon hotel with heart-shaped tubs in the Adirondacks.

  And then they rolled in the ghastly sideboard I had seen in Natasha’s garage. The laughter and joking in the room quickly subsided. The auctioneer kept talking but the room was so still that we would have heard one of the light-as-air macarons hit the floor.

  Martha Carter’s face drew tight as no one bid. Natasha was turning a shade of red I had never seen on her before. It was, after all, her donation that had brought the entire auction to an abrupt halt.

  Even the immensely dignified Robert Johnson tugged at the knot of his tie with discomfort.

  Callie looked on, wide-eyed, chewing her bottom lip nervously.

  I did not want that horrid thing. But I did want to rescue the auction. I bid fifty dollars in the hope that someone, anyone, would bid higher.

  Robert placed his hand on his chin thoughtfully and gave me slight nod of appreciation.

  Callie saved me when she bid, too, and then Martha bid an amount so large that the auctioneer slammed the gavel down and declared, “Sold!”

  We broke into applause. Martha took a red-faced bow and said to the room, “That ought to buy a few books for the kids!”

  The auction returned to full swing after Martha’s reminder that it was all for children’s literacy. We relaxed in the comfy sofas and chairs that were a lovely change from sitting at dining tables. No wonder Francie and Velma had adopted The Parlour as their favorite haunt. I sat back, sipping tea and indulging in the little sweets and sandwiches. They were too cute not to try each of them!

  By the time the gavel had banged down for the last time, Velma had won a basket containing two dozen cozy mysteries, Nina clutched a certificate for a day of pampering at a local spa, and an ornate metal garden bench of intertwined vines and flowers was to be delivered to Francie’s house. I had managed to accumulate a window-mount birdfeeder for Mochie’s amusement, a black feather wreath with a skull on it, and a six-foot-tall skeleton for Halloween that was hinged and could be posed.

  The string quartet had begun to play again as people filtered out.

  I made my way to the auction cashier but turned quickly when I saw Alex in line to pay. I wasn’t ready for that confrontation. Maybe I was a chicken, but I really didn’t want to break up in front of half of Old Town. We would be fodder for gossip for the next month. I could just hear them asking one another, “Were you there? Did you see poor Sophie when Alex walked out with another woman?” So I dodged him and sidled toward the pastry display to wait.

  As I gazed at the marvelous creations inside the case, including horns of pastry filled with cream, I couldn’t help overhearing Alex’s new flame telling Martha how wonderful her new boyfriend was. Blech.

  Her long lashes touched the bangs that emphasized her lovely facial structure. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Robert watched her rather openly.

  “It’s interesting dating someone I’ve know for so long,” the new girlfriend said. “I already know all his deep dark secrets.”

  Martha cocked her head. “Alex doesn’t seem the type to have any secrets.”

  “That’s sweet.” She cast a glance at Robert and flashed him a smile. “But all men have secrets. It’s up to us ladies to ferret them out.”

  I turned my back to them and examined shelving that displayed so many different patterns of china that my head spun. Like Martha, I had a small addiction to collecting china. My budget didn’t go very far, but I loved picking up sets at auctions and yard sales.

  “Where the devil did that knife go? I just had it in my hand.” I recognized Martha’s voice without looking. She enunciated precisely and spoke with great caution, as though she feared she might say the wrong thing. “I dislike disorder. While I’m glad for the business, and I’m grateful to see so many new faces here, we would have been much more organized if a cer
tain someone had pulled her weight today.”

  “Give her a break, Martha. You would be upset and distracted, too, if you had been attacked.” Callie spoke with a distinct Southern accent. She sounded like the people where I’d grown up.

  “At least I don’t have that to worry about.” Alex’s girlfriend again? “He’s so protective of me. It’s like he can’t be away from me for even a moment. It’s adorable.”

  Ugh. I stepped outside for a minute and took a few deep breaths. Alex and the new girl turned the other way and didn’t notice me when they left.

  Nina and I were offering to help Velma carry her books home when Natasha sidled up to me, her skin ashen in spite of her ample makeup.

  “I need a huge favor.”

  She seemed so desperate. “What’s wrong? I thought the auction went pretty well. Are you sick?”

  Her hand fluttered like a bird. “It’s not that.” She gestured toward the window.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dear Sophie,

  What’s the difference between English, Irish, and Scottish Breakfast teas? I’m so confused. Are they all pretty much the same?

  —Tea Fan in New London, Connecticut

  Dear Tea Fan,

  Breakfast teas are all blends of black tea. English Breakfast tea may be preferred because it’s the mildest of the three. Irish Breakfast tea has a strong Assam component, which impacts the flavor. Scottish Breakfast tea is the strongest of the three, presumably to overcome the flavor of the water at one time.

  —Sophie

  A woman with silver hair cut like a young boy’s was waiting for traffic to clear so she could cross the street. I would have recognized Natasha’s mother, Wanda, anywhere. Frankly, I liked Wanda. I had never understood how she could be so different from her prissy daughter.

  “Please, Sophie,” Natasha said. “Take her home? I just can’t deal with her right now. Not here. Not now! She’s crossing the street! Hurry!”

  Natasha towed me toward the door but it was still too crowded to make much progress. By the time we reached the front, Robert Johnson was gazing at Natasha’s mother with astonished curiosity.

  She cut an interesting figure in tight camouflage yoga pants, a gauzy low-cut top over what I assumed must be a squeeze-and-lift bra, and a white jean jacket. “Baby doll!” She held her arms out to Natasha. “Are you okay?”

  Natasha appeared reluctant to hug her mother.

  Wanda promptly destroyed Natasha’s carefully coiffed hair by feeling the back of her head. “Darlin’, I don’t feel a knot. Did you have a doctor check you out?” Wanda drew back and examined Natasha’s face. “Well, you look as beautiful as ever. And I don’t think your pupils are off. Follow my fingers, baby.” She snapped her fingers and moved her hand in the shape of a cross.

  “You haven’t said hi to Sophie,” Natasha muttered.

  Wanda turned to me immediately for a hug. “I’m so glad you girls are friends. Thank you for taking care of Natasha last night.”

  While Wanda’s back was turned, Natasha made a swift attempt to get Robert out the door. He wasn’t budging, though.

  Wanda let go of me and smiled sweetly at her daughter. “Mama’s here to take care of you now.”

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  Wanda shifted her attention to Robert and held out her right hand. “Wanda Smith. I don’t believe we’ve met. I would have remembered you!”

  Natasha drew in a deep breath and appeared mortified. Wanda had an eye for men, and there was no mistaking the flirtatious nature of her remarks.

  “Robert Johnson. I gather you are Natasha’s mother?” He shook her hand, and it looked to me as though one of them held on a moment too long. “You must have had a long trip. Won’t you join me for tea?”

  “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing! I would like that very much. Natasha, was this all a ruse to get me up here to meet handsome Robert?”

  A confused smile hovered over his lips.

  “Don’t be shy, sugar. It’s always the straight-laced ones that are the most fun in the sack. Believe me, I know!”

  “Mom! You’re embarrassing me.”

  “Oh, Natasha. When are you going to grow up, honey? You’re livin’ with Mars without benefit of marriage. You’re hardly in a position to go gettin’ all goody-goody on me.”

  Robert led the way to a cozy nook with only two chairs.

  Natasha appeared to be frozen in place.

  “Natasha? Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Did you see that? This is a first. I’ve never had to compete with my mother before. He took to her like a cat to cream.”

  I had to admit that I never would have expected Robert, who gave the impression of being so dignified, to be attracted to wild Wanda. And then I realized what Natasha had said. “Compete? Are you dating Robert?”

  “What could he possibly see in my mother?” Natasha sagged against the baked goods case. “Give them five minutes. She can’t go longer than that without mentioning herbs and backcountry spells. I have nothing to worry about.”

  I noticed, though, that she didn’t take her eyes off them. “Was your lunch date with Robert?”

  “Of course.”

  This development was astonishing on so many levels I hardly knew where to start. “He’s almost old enough to be your father.”

  “Sophie, age is irrelevant when two people mesh.” She cocked her head and gazed at him. “Do you think my dad is as debonair as Robert?”

  Not even close. I chose my words carefully. “Natasha, I was seven when your father left, and I’ll admit that I don’t remember him very well, but Robert doesn’t begin to resemble the man I recall.”

  “You don’t know. That was a long time ago.” She inhaled like she was taking her last breath. “You have the nicest father in the world. He’s like a TV sitcom father. You have no idea what it’s like to not know what happened to your dad. Not know if he’s dead or alive. You never had to dream about meeting your father or wonder if he was out there in the world watching you, being proud of you.”

  I listened with deep sorrow. No wonder she worked so hard at being perfect and wanted to make a name for herself. She was trying to please a man she had lost decades ago and couldn’t find.

  “You have everything,” Natasha hissed. “Your mother wears sweater sets and pearls. She’s not some refugee from Woodstock who never got over her hippy days. You haven’t lived in fear that someone would catch your mother casting spells under the light of the moon.”

  I was horrified by her outburst, but she wasn’t finished. “And you got Mars’s beautiful house. And Mars.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Natasha had coveted my life for a long time but I had dismissed her feelings. I hadn’t realized how deep they went and how long she had seen me as the recipient of all that she didn’t have. It had clearly started when we were very young. As terrible as I felt for her, I couldn’t help thinking of Mars, who had been sweating their breakup when all the while, Natasha had moved her affections to Robert.

  “How long have you been seeing Robert?”

  “You make it sound like I did something wrong.”

  “Up until today you were living with Mars . . .”

  She glanced at me with annoyance. “You should know better than anyone that it’s wise to feather a new nest before you leave the old one.”

  I was so taken aback that my mouth fell open again. “Me?”

  “You weren’t prepared when Mars left you. You still don’t have anyone. Not really. I saw Alex here today with another woman.”

  “What happened to you?” I asked. “You used to stand on propriety. You were the model of decorum, looking down your nose at the rest of us who weren’t as perfect.” I kept my voice low so others wouldn’t hear. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but you’re acting with as little integrity as yo
ur father.”

  She winced. “That’s not fair. I tried, Sophie. You know I did. But Robert is more my type. He’s more polished and suave than Mars. We went to the opera last week.”

  “I didn’t know you were a fan of opera.”

  “Isn’t everyone?”

  Martha must have been listening because she piped up from behind the counter. “If only it were so. I’m delighted to know someone else who would like to see Die Fledermaus. Perhaps we can go together.”

  Natasha cheered up. “I would love that!” She turned a pleased face to me.

  I let it slide. Martha would know soon enough that Natasha was an opera neophyte. Maybe it would do Natasha good to befriend Martha. After all, she seemed very sensible and had opened a hugely successful business in Old Town. She might be just the sort of friend Natasha needed.

  Natasha might have planned on watching her mother and Robert all day, but I didn’t intend to. I turned on my heel and navigated through the crowd. Back at the table, I hoisted a basket of books, grabbed my skeleton and wreath, and asked if Nina could carry the birdfeeder.

  “Sure. What’s got you in such a tizzy?”

  “Let’s go.” I motioned to Francie and Velma. They all followed me to the door.

  Once outside I let out a deep breath. Why was I so upset with her? Natasha had done so many thoughtless things over the years. This wasn’t really new behavior. “You know why Natasha didn’t throw a hissy fit when Mars said he was leaving her? Because she’s already seeing Robert!”

  Velma sputtered when she asked, “My Robert? I mean, my deceased sister’s Robert?”

  “Apparently so.”

  Francie howled with laughter. “Why, that scamp!”

  “It’s the best thing that could happen to Mars.” Nina shifted her grip on the birdfeeder. “No guilt, no fuss. In fact, he can use it against her. He’ll have the upper hand if they argue about anything.”

  “And it’s the best thing that could happen to you, Sophie!” Francie’s eyes sparkled. “You better grab Mars before Natasha realizes her mistake and changes her mind!”