“SiSi, honey, I know you do. You’ve been coming back to us all summer long, you and Peter, both.”
Sienna cleared her throat. “But I can’t pull myself back into the light by the hand of another woman’s husband.”
“No, you can’t.”
“I guess I’m just sad. I mean, I’m also afraid, but it’s the sadness that’s making me feel crazy.”
“What will you do if you see this man again?”
“I don’t know. Be polite? It’s just so hard to stay distant.” She remembered the drawing. “Oh! I forgot to tell you about the drawing. He drew me with wild bergamot in my hair.”
“Lord, have mercy!” Marnie said, sucking air through her teeth. “This is worse than I thought. He’s misusing his gifts.”
“And I think he knows it.”
“You have to pray for wisdom.” Marnie yawned. “And be careful. Don’t be alone with him. He’s a priest, so he has charism that could really confuse you if he turns it inside out.”
“Thanks, Marnie, for waking up to talk with me. I’ll let you get back to sleep. I’ll do what you say. Just promise to pray for me?”
“Always.”
Sienna put her phone in her pocket and pressed her hands against the rough red wall. The bricks had absorbed the day’s heat, and they relieved her cold hands. She had hidden in the kitchen all afternoon. Surely Greg would have left by now. One way or another, she had to go through the shop to speak with Tovah about the final preparations for the next evening’s history department bash.
A swift breeze fluttered the weeds clinging to the sides of the alley just as she turned to go inside. Her ears roared with it, and the wind rushed up her nose. She breathed in carefully but deeply, the way she took in incense on holy days at church. The very action was the highest prayer, the prayer of acceptance and welcome, of gratitude. For the first time in days, Sienna did not feel alone.
When she walked into the front of the store, Bethel Bailey caught her elbow.
“Sienna! Look at you, with flour all over your nice red top! Come and sit with me, will you? Or is that what you’re supposed to say? Oh, well, I would love your company, one way or another.”
“You know, Bethel,” Sienna smiled, “I could use a cuppa.” She walked back behind the counter and prepared a pot of her favorite brew. While it steeped, she popped in to the kitchen and returned with a plate of the thumbprint cookies. She set the lot on a tray and brought it to where Bethel sat at a central table.
“So, did you hear the latest?” Bethel began, diving right into conversation and the plate of cookies. Sienna knew that Bethel required no response, so she only smiled. Bethel paused to eat a cookie before she continued, “These are great, by the way.”
“Thank you.”
“I want the recipe. But back to my news. Granny is moving to Durham. She’s given up being queen bee back at Second, a.k.a. Bethel Baptist, and she’s moving in with Mama and Daddy and me. Can you believe it? I guess she ran out of things to put a plaque on after all.”
“Wow. That’s some turn of events,” Sienna mustered, trying to find an appropriate response to events in the lives of persons she did not know. “Are they happy?”
Bethel scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Mama has been hectoring Granny to get her hide down here for the past four years. She has no business trying to navigate down a country road with her head barely peeping over the wheel and her walker in the front seat, not now that the dog died.” Sienna was taken aback by the emphasis in the tale, which was on the fact of the dead dog.
“Well,” she began, “was the dog very important to your granny?”
“You ask me, Granny only had one equal in temper in her whole life, and that was Rufus. It was owing to him that she drove to the cemetery every day. Leastways, at first it was. But now, what with the heat and no Rufus to get help if she turns a spell, it makes Mama nervous.”
“Does your granny like Durham?”
Bethel chewed her lips in uncharacteristic silence for a moment. “Well enough, I suppose. She doesn’t approve, you know.” Bethel ate a cookie, keeping Sienna in suspense as to what Granny did not approve.
Sienna sipped her tea a few times and waited, but Bethel did not explain. At length, she attempted a way forward. “I hope her disapproval won’t lead to family discord.”
“Oh, it won’t come to much so long as she’s at home. But I fret my nerves thinking of how we’ll take her out to eat every Wednesday and Sunday.” Bethel cast her eyes around nervously, leaned forward, and whispered, “It’s the liquor. Granny can’t abide it. She’s lived in a dry county all these years and accounts her happiness in marriage and widowhood to that fact.”
Sienna nodded and considered staying silent, but her conscience twinged. “Bethel, you know that we sell alcohol here, don’t you? Not for everyday, but at events.”
“Oh, that!” Bethel toshed. “Now, don’t you pay that any mind. I’m not Granny, and what she doesn’t know about this place won’t hurt her.” She emptied her teacup and refilled it. Sienna watched the golden liquid pour into the cup, a slight music ringing in the porcelain as it splashed. She smiled. Bethel looked up suddenly and caught Sienna’s eye. “Now, what have you been up to? You look like my old preacher man after he came out of a prayer meeting.”
“As a matter of fact, you’re not far off. I just got off the phone with my best friend and prayer partner, Marnie. She’s on pilgrimage in Wales.”
“Oh, tell me about her. What does she look like? I want to picture her.” Bethel closed her eyes in an exaggerated manner and leaned back so she could peek from under her lashes.
Sienna laughed. “Hold on.” She pulled out her phone and scrolled through a few screens, then held it up for Bethel’s inspection. “Here’s a photo. That’s us in the spring at the Plant Delights sale.”
Bethel dropped the pretense of peeking and grabbed the phone. “Oh, she’s pretty! I love the curly hair. And those bracelets! Where does she get them?” She held out the phone and tapped the image over one of Marnie’s wrists. Both of her arms were adorned with thick golden bangles formed with elaborate Celtic patterns.
“Some of them she picked up overseas, some of them she made in a jewelry class at the community college. She must have a dozen pairs.”
“Does she wear them all the time?”
“As far as I know. I’ve known Marnie for twelve years, and she’s never been without them. I joke that they are her Wonder Woman bracelets.”
“Well, they’re beautiful. She’s beautiful. And y’all pray together even when you have to pay overseas roaming?”
“I hadn’t really thought of that.” Sienna frowned slightly. “But yes. We help each other through our trials.” She looked down into her tea and held the mug with both hands. Bethel reached out and touched her wrist with a soft, warm hand.
“Listen, Sienna, I’m not going to pry into your trials. Don’t be surprised!” she added when Sienna looked up sharply. “But you and Tovah and the ladies have made a glorious place here, and I see God all up in you.” She moved her hand back to her side of the table and resumed her tea and cookies. “That’s my two cents, leastways, and I hope you know you’re worth whatever troubles your friends take for you, and more!” She bit into a cookie with finality.
Sienna sat with Bethel while the latter regaled her with stories of yarn bombing around downtown and Duke campus. A rash of decorated statues started in February when the camel statue on West Campus turned up with a crocheted masectomy bra, and they had gotten more flamboyant in the ensuing months.
“Isn’t that something?” Bethel concluded. “Before long, they’ll be yarn bombing cars!”
“I don’t know about cars,” Sienna concluded, setting down her mug after draining the last of her tea, “but I wouldn’t mind having a lamppost or a bike rack covered in crochet flowers.”
“Well, I’d better let you get on with your work. Thank you for stopping to chat.”
“Thank you for inviting m
e. I needed a little chat.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and Sienna stood to clear her dishes. On the walk back through the shop, she noticed the animated conversations in the chess corner as men and women of various ages discussed strategies and moves. The soft rustle of pens and papers came from an active manuscript table, where four adults and a little boy made words on pages. Rhythmic clicks filtered from the graduate student wall, and a low hum of laughter and gentle conversation filled in the spaces between the quiet jazz. She smiled as she made her way to the office.
“We have made a lovely place here, Tovah.”
“I’m glad you noticed.”
“Have I been that distracted recently?”
Tovah tightened her lips over her first response and looked at her friend with compassion. “For good reasons.” She nodded slightly. “Did you just stop in to congratulate us on the place, or…?”
“I just wanted to make sure everything is on par for the history department bash tomorrow night.”
“It is. The wine came in while you were baking.”
“Did it? I didn’t notice.”
“Good. Then you probably did good work.”
“We have enough thumbprint cookies for the party and the weekend chess crowd. I can set some aside for the sorority party as well, if you think they’d like them.”
“About that,” Tovah began, worry edging her voice, “we no longer have to concern ourselves with the likes of those particular Greeks.”
“What do you mean?”
“They canceled. Said this place was not right for them after all, and that we could keep the deposit, as they would not be rebooking.”
“What?!” Sienna plopped into the club chair and sank forward. “That sounds sort of hostile, no?”
“Very hostile. I imagined that the girl who called to cancel had venom seeping out around her smile.”
“I wonder what they could mean by it,” Sienna sounded perplexed, even to her own ears.
“Well, let’s not concern ourselves with them any more, as I said. This history department gig will give us an in with university sorts, and that’s a good thing.”
“Right.” Sienna held her breath for a moment. “Do you think it’s because I haven’t been here much when we advertised a resident tea master? Or is the store missing something?”
“Honestly, I think the sorority has its own hidden agenda. Look, Sienna, you know I always miss you when you’re gone, but you’ve done well here. Our staff is trained, and everything has gone well when you have been out.” She eyed her friend’s gray face. “Which you should be now. Why don’t you head home now—go see Peter. Take him a cookie or one of those chocolate cookies from Hearth that have made me gain two pounds.”
“You’re right.” Sienna patted at the flour that still clung to her shirt where the apron had not protected it. “I’ll go now while it’s daylight. I haven’t been outside except for phone calls and walking into the hospital. I want to get in the garden. Or maybe hug the dogs. I’m just not sure what to do first, with Peter sick.”
“Go hug the dogs, then weed your favorite flower bed, then shower, and then go see Peter. He’ll like the look of you better if you’re happier.”
“Thanks, Tovah. You always say the right thing.”
“It’s a gift.” Tovah held her hands out and shrugged. “What else can I do?”
The dogs were very loud about her entrance into the visiting pen. Pogo barked as he leapt to kiss her, and Jonquil lectured her in dog speak rich with pathos. Sienna rubbed Jonquil’s head and knelt to get in a good ear scratch.
“I hear you, girl,” she spoke into the dog’s large brown eyes. Pogo squirmed and wagged eagerly next to her, pressing himself to her side as if to keep her there. “I am chastised. I should have visited more frequently.” She transferred one hand to Pogo’s ears and gave both dogs a good petting. “Your daddy is not feeling well. I haven’t been able to get out much.”
Jonquil answered in dog, her sad eyes indicating that she understood.
“Thank you, honey. I had hoped you would understand.” She stood up and pulled two balls out of her pockets. “Now, who wants to fetch?” She threw them to the far end of the yard and watched as the dogs dropped their sadness and became the very sight of joy.
When her arms were tired and the dogs had mellowed, Sienna hugged them both goodbye. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She knelt and let them lick her face, then left them in the capable care of Jonathan, who was clearly their favorite keeper.
On the way home, the dog spit stiffened on Sienna’s face in the breeze from the car’s air conditioner. The feeling reminded her of summer, when sweat and dog kisses made up what she jokingly called a free facial mask. She would have to rinse before she weeded or her canine beauty treatment would make her itchy.
At the house, she paused in the entry hall to inhale the rich layers of cedar, beeswax, tea, and paint that made up their life. She thought of Marnie’s words, that she had been coming back all summer, and she understood with sudden clarity that her life was filled with joy. Hot tears washed over her cheeks as she made her way to the kitchen. She put the kettle on and watched it begin to boil through bleary eyes. Tea meant Peter and home.
When the fisheye bubbles clung to one another and the low roar of excited water filled her ears, Sienna came to herself. She turned on the tap and rinsed her face in the sink, the tepid water cooling her hot skin. For her tea, she chose the special egg blue porcelain pot that made her think of her wedding night, added tea, and filled it.
Marnie had given them the pot as the “something blue” for their wedding. When they were leaving for the honeymoon, Sienna had noticed Peter holding a velum bag in his left hand. Their friends threw chamomile flowers or blew bubbles as they walked the path to the waiting car, hand in hand. She had been so happy that it had not mattered that chamomile stuck in her mouth, her hair, and bodice. At the hotel, Peter had surprised her by making tea while she changed into her night things. He had said there was no knowing how the night might develop, and it was best to start things out on a civilized note. He poured them each a cup, but most of the tea grew cold before they remembered it in the wee hours.
More than any other lovely object, Sienna thought of the egg blue teapot as their wedding china. She retrieved a thin green and pink cup and saucer set from a high cabinet and set it next to the teapot. The colors meant healing and life. She poured tea and turned the colors and memories into a prayer.
Instead of weeding the garden, Sienna sat on the back porch and sipped. At length, a sweet apple smell caught her attention.
“Chamomile,” she spoke aloud. The late sun must have reached the sheltered patch and warmed it until the fragrance spread. Its sharp sweetness was like the warmth that kept one in bed on a winter morning. Sienna could not resist its draw. She gathered a large handful of the longest stems and blossoms.
“Peter will like these.” She carried their bright smell into the house.
When she came downstairs after her shower, the air was lighter, richer, more complete. She smiled as she picked up the little vase that held the chamomile.
In the hospital room, Peter smiled before he opened his eyes. “Mmm. I know that scent.” He found Sienna’s face, and his eyes twinkled. “It’s my bride.”
“Hello, Beloved,” Sienna said quietly. She set the vase of chamomile on Peter’s bed table and leaned in to kiss him. “Did I really smell so herbal on our wedding night?”
“I’m in no condition to describe it accurately.” He spoke into her ear, “I’m too weak to act on the impulses that would call forth.”
“You’re so gallant.”
“I am.”
“But are you glad I brought it?”
“Oh, yes.” Peter leaned forward slightly and kissed Sienna again.
In the hall, a doctor was paged. Sienna stood up straighter, but held Peter’s hand.
“How are you feeling tonight?”
“Am I allowed to say
, even if it’s not gallant?”
“Yes.”
Peter cussed.
“So, better than yesterday?”
“Much better. They’re running tests right now, but they’ll poison me again soon. If you want to have your way with me, this is your window of opportunity.”
“You know how I like a man in a gown.”
“Oh, tell me more.” Peter pulled Sienna’s hand so that she was leaning over him again.
“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted from the doorway. “I knocked, but…”
Sienna straightened and turned, the smile not quite leaving her eyes. “Of course. Please, come in, Doctor?”
“Doctor Who?” Peter whispered, and Sienna swallowed a chuckle.
“Doctor Vager. I’m not here to prod or poke, just to say that Mr. Bannock here is responding well to treatment.”
“Which means you’ll do more treatment tomorrow?” Peter asked.
“Yes, exactly.” Dr. Vager smiled. “I just came on shift, so I can come back later if you would rather.”
“Thank you, Dr. Vager. I would, rather,” Peter said.
The doctor waved and departed.
“You are saucy tonight!” Sienna mock chided.
“I have not slept with my wife in over a week. Of course I’m saucy. A man has needs.” He pulled her back down and kissed her.
When she came up for air, Sienna was flushed. “I had tea from our wedding china tonight.”
“Ah. That’s why the chamomile.”
“No, the chamomile was because it smelled so strongly when I walked outside. It was like it was speaking to me, making all that scent right at that moment.”
“Hmm.” Peter was conspicuously quiet.
Tea and Crumples Page 8
