The Tea Series

by Sheila Horgan

  “That’s okay. I don’t need a pity invitation.”

  “Teagan, if it weren’t for pity invitations, I’d never invite you at all. Besides, they didn’t make these arrangements until halfway through the night last night, and I was going to call you today to invite you. We are having Sin for dessert. In your honor.”

  “I can’t pass up Sin.”

  “I’m sure that Jessie counts on that.”

  “Funny. What time do you want me there this morning? Anything I can bring?”

  “Yeah, a list of stuff to make for your mother-in-law. Their freezer should be about empty now, and I think best when I’m puttering. I figure if I can get some cooking and cleaning done, I might just figure out the whole break-in problem, and A.J. will feel a lot better if there is someone here with me.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet he’ll feel really safe with me there, since I was the one staying with you when Barry kicked the crap out of you. Some bodyguard I turned out to be.”

  “Aren’t you the sister that always tells me not to take responsibility for things that I’m not responsible for? Pot, please meet kettle.”

  “Got it. You’re right. I’ll bring a list and a bunch of groceries. We can do the regulars, if that’s okay with you.”

  “That works for me. We can shop together if it’s easier. We can go to that new restaurant supply store.”

  “You have to be a wholesale person.”

  “I got a card through Adeline.”

  “Oh, good, I’ve wanted to get a look in there. It’s a secret they’ve been keeping from me.”

  “How about you pick up some donuts and head over here. If you get here in the next hour, bring extras for A.J. Anything with chocolate. If you’re going to be more than an hour, he’ll be gone.”

  “Donuts before breakfast with Morgan?”

  “You? Asking a question like that?”

  “Another good point. See you in forty minutes or less.”

  A.J. had just left when Teagan hit the door. Literally.

  “The door was locked. I almost broke my shoulder, Cara.”

  “Yep.”

  “Good. I don’t need that shoulder anyway. I’m glad you had the damn door locked. Really. Don’t worry about the arm hanging limp at my side. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  If I were Teagan before she got control, I’d have rolled my eyes. “Did you get cinnamon rolls for me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you doing tea or Pepsi?”

  “I’m doing milk.”

  “Really?”

  “They have a new donut. It’s chocolate, wrapped in chocolate, with a chocolate filling. The woman behind the counter — her name is Suniti — keeps some in the fridge. That way they are set really well, and she cuts them in half and puts a huge dollop of stiff whipped cream in the middle. Oh. My. God. You have no idea.”

  “I’ll stick to my cinnamon roll. Give me a couple of minutes. I’ll butter and warm mine and get everything on the table.”

  “No problem. I’m gonna use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

  By the time Teagan sat down, I had a huge mug of ice-cold milk, served in an ice-cold mug straight out of the freezer — yeah, I’m good like that — sitting at her place; the chocolate monstrosity that she’d bought was taking up most of a salad plate in front of her.

  My cinnamon roll looked kind of sad by comparison.

  “You’re getting married. I can’t believe it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know what I mean. Living together is one thing, but married is a whole other thing. It’s all about being grown-up and having a spouse and kids and a house with a little white picket fence. Not necessarily literally, but you know what I mean.”

  “If I could kick Troya out of Bernie’s house, that’s exactly what I’d have.”

  “Me too.”

  “So, are we going to introduce Troya to Harry?”

  “I thought we were talking about you.”

  “We are, in a minute, I just want Troya to have what I have.”

  “But you don’t want me to have what you have?”

  “You already have A.J. Trouble in that area?”

  “No, of course not. You just made it sound like Troya would be all married and everything and I’d just be Cara. Hanging out and making everybody food.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing. Just a weird day. I couldn’t sleep last night. Kept thinking about all the stuff that is going on with Adeline, and then there’s the fact that I can’t remember the last time I had any fun, and add the fact that you are living my life, and I’m just in a weird mood.”

  “I’m living your life?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. I guess all this stuff has me more weirded out than I thought.”

  “Cara, what has you weirded out is that you haven’t done anything. You have always been a leader, not a follower. Lately, you just stand in the background and wait for everyone to make a decision, and then you just go along with it.”

  “I stood up to Roland.”

  “You did. And that’s good. But the fact that you are pointing out the fact that you stood up to Roland, something you would have done without thought since you were about three, worries me a little.”

  “I know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “What did Vicky say?”

  “She said I’d been through a trauma. She said it was going to take some time.”

  “That sounds right.”

  “Teagan, I know I’ve been acting weird for a long time. I went out and got all my hair cut off. Me. The queen of the French braid. I got all those clothes.”

  “Cara, your hair is adorable, and your clothes look great on you, and we both know that has nothing to do with anything. Haircut and clothes do not change a person.”

  “I know. We’re talking chicken and egg. I’m not saying the clothes changed me. I’m saying that I was hoping they would. It’s like I’m stuck. It’s my whole height issue with my whole life.”

  “Okay, you’re going to have to come up with different words for that.”

  “You know how I am too tall to be short but too short to be tall?”

  “Yeah. You’re too tall to get most of your clothes in a regular store, but when you buy from a tall shop, you have to have them all shortened. I have the same issue, but I’m not height-centric. I’m boob-centric.”

  “Right. Well, my whole life is like that right now. I feel too old to be young. I’m too young to be old. I feel like I’m too distant from the family to be close, but too close to be distant. I’m all whacked out about what it means to be an O’Flynn, because to tell you the truth, there is some O’Flynn stuff going on that I would have bet my life was very un-O’Flynn-like conduct.”

  “Cara, the O’Flynns haven’t changed.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “If the O’Flynns haven’t changed, then I’ve spent my whole life believing in something that never existed.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Cara, do you want my official non-professional diagnosis-slash-opinion?”

  “Yes, which shows just how screwed up I am.”

  “I think that you are just using comfort delusions the way normal people use comfort food.”

  “Okay, I don’t have any idea what that means.”

  “You know how people who have been through a trauma or are dealing with stress will go for comfort food?”

  “You mean the sixty-two pounds of chocolate and chemical goodness that God never intended for us to eat but is sitting in every cupboard in my kitchen?”

  “Yeah, that would be it. You don’t go for comfort food; you go for comfort delusions.”

  “Using the same words isn’t going to help me, Teagan.”

  “Sorry. When thi
ngs are hard for you, you go into that place where all things O’Flynn are perfect, and I’ll bet if you asked a hundred people that are kinda like you what they would do if they had a whole attempted-assassination thing happen to them, their answer would be that they would protect themselves. For you, that protection is old school and a little bossy and to blame everything you’re thinking on the O’Flynns so that you don’t have to take total responsibility for it.”

  “That sounds real healthy.”

  “If the O’Flynns can be a buffer for you while you heal, then it is a healthy thing.”

  “It doesn’t sound healthy.”

  “Cara, it is what it is. That’s the way you deal with problems. Always has been. It’s kind of like in fifth grade when that Randy guy was mean to you.”

  “I had such a crush on him. All the girls in the class did. He wasn’t mean to me; he just didn’t fall in love with me like he was supposed to.”

  “Well, at the time you thought he was mean, and you stood over by the swings and screamed at him that the wrath of O’Flynn was about to rain down on him and that he would be sorry. You pulled out all the stops. You’re just doing a semi-adult version of that now. You’re enveloping yourself in your O’Flynn delusions for comfort.”

  “Would you stop saying delusions? You make me sound like a crazy person.”

  “I’m not using the word delusions like you mean, like hallucinations.”

  “Silly me, sounded like it.”

  “I’m using the word like misinformed, no, like false belief. You have always looked at the O’Flynns a little differently, and that’s fine. Actually it’s good. The problem now is that you think the whole world should look at us the way you look at us, and I think you’re going to really get your feelings hurt.”

  “How?”

  “Remember when we were little, if we got mad at each other, Mom would make us hold hands until we could be nice?”

  “Of course. I still have the scars. You used to bite me when she wasn’t looking.”

  “Still would if she made us hold hands. The point is, Cara, you can’t force people to get along, and you can’t force them to like each other. Not when they’re adults.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you? Cara, chances are good that somewhere along the line at least one O’Flynn is going to jump the tracks and you’re not going to be able to get him or her back on them. We aren’t little kids anymore. Mom isn’t going to make us hold hands. We all have our own way of looking at things and doing things, and that’s okay.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that. You make me sound like an idiot.”

  “So if Mom and Dad don’t accept Maeve’s girlfriend, you’re okay with that?”

  “No. But Mom and Daddy wouldn’t do that.”

  “Seamus might. Seamus might have a problem with Maeve’s girlfriend. He won’t keep his mouth shut, either. At first he will be polite, just in case they break up and Maeve sees the light, meaning that she figures out that she isn’t gay. If that doesn’t work, he’s going to start making snide comments behind their backs. If that doesn’t work, he’s gonna do a full-court press. He is not going to quietly accept that his beautiful, feminine sister is gay. Because for Seamus, it is always about Seamus, and having a gay sister is not going to reflect well on him.”

  “I know he isn’t going to be happy, but he loves Maeve…”

  “And he is going to want to set her straight. He wants to set all of us straight. No pun intended. And his version of straight is that we do what he thinks is the right thing.”

  “I’m not sure…”

  “Cara, don’t argue the point. Think about it. Name one time in the history of O’Flynns that Seamus bent to the will of the masses. It’s not going to happen. Ever.”

  “We’re off track, and, besides, today is a day of celebration. You’re going to get married. What are we going to do? Are you making any plans? Have you looked at dresses? Are you going to do the whole princess thing, or do you have something else in mind? Is Jessie going to wear a tux?”

  “I know you are trying to change the subject, but could you at least do it one question at a time?”

  “I can do that.”

  “Cara, the whole O’Flynn discussion isn’t over. You know that, right?”

  “Yes. But, Teagan, I just can’t do it today.”

  “No problem. I know where you live, and I know how to turn off the alarm.”

  “Funny. Let’s go to the restaurant supply place and see how much of your money I can spend.”

  “We can do that.”

  The restaurant supply place looked pretty much like any big box store, but there was ice left to thaw, more like just dumped, in several areas of the parking lot.

  That was weird.

  “What’s it like in there?”

  “I’ve never been in there before. Adeline gave me the card, but then she had her runners do the shopping instead of me, so I didn’t get to check it out.”

  “Oh, to have runners.”

  “I don’t think I’d like it. Someone else to do my errands sounds great, but I don’t want to share so much of my personal space with other people. I don’t want someone snooping around in my pantry and cupboards so that they can decide what I want and then run off to buy it.”

  “Dingleberry, if you can afford runners, you can afford enough living space that they wouldn’t be in your way if they lived in your house, which I don’t think they do, right? Anyway, I would love to have someone that could stand in line at the post office for me. I spent over an hour in line yesterday.”

  “Why were you at the post office?”

  “Mom asked me to pick up a bunch of stuff and ship it over to the house. Stuff she noticed they might like that she thought is more American than Irish.”

  “Like what?”

  Before Teagan could answer we were at the front door. The place was huge. So huge, a big box store would fit in it twice. Maybe more.

  I swiped my shiny new card and picked up a couple of brochures that told me the specials of the week.

  If I wanted to buy fifty pounds of salmon, I was in the right place. A hundred pounds of potatoes might actually come in handy if the whole family is going to be around or if we have a family party or wake.

  It dawned on me halfway down the first aisle that this will be a great place to buy everything for Teagan’s wedding reception. And rehearsal dinner. And engagement party. I wonder if she is going to have an engagement party. Our family runs at about fifty percent for those. I wonder when she’ll end up getting married. Before Sinead has the baby or after?

  “Oh. My. God. Look at this.”

  I wandered over to where Teagan had a big plastic bag. Kind of looked like the inside packaging of a cake mix, but bigger.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s soft-serve ice cream stuff.”

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  “I’m going to make soft-serve ice cream.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’m going to buy a machine, dingleberry.”

  “Don’t call me that around food. You’re going to gross people out. Teagan, hate to bring you back to reality, but I’m pretty sure those machines cost thousands of dollars.”

  “I’m not buying the big industrial model. I’m gonna buy one of those little machines that make ice cream and frozen yogurt.”

  “That bag is six pounds. How are you going to do that?”

  “It makes a couple of gallons. I’m going to do the math.”

  “Arithmetic.”

  “Whatever. I’ve just gotta turn the pounds into ounces and then figure out how many ounces go into a smaller machine.”

  “Or you could just run through the drive-through.”

  “Buzz kill.”

  We wandered up and down the aisles.

  Who needs to buy a pallet of napkins, and if you need a pallet of napkins, wouldn’t you want them delivered? I assumed this place was f
or small mom-and-pop type providers, but if it is, Mom and Pop are going through a lot of to-go containers and canned sauces.

  The meat area was outrageous. It was as big as a small grocery store, but it was all refrigerated. They had jackets hanging outside the door for anyone to put on. Put on your jacket, and push your way through the heavy plastic slats that helped hold the cold in the room, and you were in another world.

  Huge pieces of meat.

  You could probably get a whole cow.

  It was obvious you could get a whole pig.

  The salmon was beautiful and cheap. I was shocked that I could buy just a little bit, comparatively, and they wrapped it up for me just like a butcher. Or I could have had them pack it in ice — I think it was even dry ice — and have it shipped somewhere. Amazing the things I’ve never seen before.

  To that point, Teagan and I had been wandering around just trying to take everything in.

  Seeing the prices on meat, and the fact that we could buy family size, or at least O’Flynn family size, we went out and got a cart. The meat was really great quality, and it was unbelievably cheap.

  I found my new favorite place to buy food.

  I thanked the vacuum-pack gods for creating a home version.

  Teagan and I thawed out while we wandered the rest of the store, loaded up the car, and headed back to my place.

  The downside of doing all of this cooking for Teagan’s mother-in-law-to-be is that I don’t have all that much counter space, only four burners, and my fridge isn’t big enough.

  Note to self about what I’ll need in my dream house.

  In an effort to create a new me — actually, to make the old me more like I thought she was — I encouraged Teagan to help me in the kitchen.

  We are back to the good-news, bad-news thing.