Green Tea

by Sheila Horgan

  Adeline informed me that they call it the practice of medicine for a reason, a line I’ve used myself in the past, and told me that she had no intention of going to see a doctor. She insisted that she’s fine. She’s in great health. Her physical body isn’t what it once was, and her memory fades on occasion, she has her aches and pains, and a cough that comes and goes, but at her age, all of that’s to be expected.

  I couldn’t really argue with her logic so I decided that I’d simply broach the subject gently from time to time and maybe I could move her in the direction that I intended.

  Never works with an O’Flynn, but it was worth a shot.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I left Adeline at the side door, promised I’d see her in the next few days, and jogged for my car.

  Florida is famous for afternoon rain. The downpours don’t scare me, although driving in them can be a challenge, especially if someone decides to slow down simply because they can’t see ten feet in front of their car.

  It’s the lightening that’s scary. Seems like all summer long you hear about somebody getting hit. People don’t realize that just because you aren’t in the rain, doesn’t mean you can’t get hit by lightening. People think it’s no big deal to run across the parking lot or stand under a tree. It amazes me that every year, some of the people zapped are locals. Of course it always shocks me when locals swim in fresh water, where alligators are rumored to hang out in wait, but that’s a whole other issue.

  My personal rule: if you can hear thunder you are supposed to be under cover. Preferably at home. Preferably away from the windows.

  With that in mind, I ran for it just as the sky opened up and the lightening started to crash all around me.

  I hate that.

  I drove toward the apartment. Felt safer getting off the freeway where semi-trucks were barreling down the road at 80 miles per hour throwing so much water onto my windshield that the wipers called ‘uncle’.

  At a red light just before Old Town I texted AJ; still no response. Strange. I was kind of hoping that he would ask me to join him for a soda, or dinner, or something. No such luck. Some days are just like that.

  I thought about stopping by Steph’s office so that I could take a look at the stuff that was on the memory cards and it would give me a little time to hang out and wait for AJ to text me back. The rain would drown me between the parking lot and the office and I wasn’t sure I was ready to see anything so dramatic as something described by a lawyer as ‘salacious’ and ‘degenerate’ and ‘nefarious’. Just the thought made me queasy.

  I played the chicken card and kept driving straight to my apartment.

  When I came around the curve, I half expected to see Jerkface parked in my favorite spot. Or maybe 20 police cars. I saw neither.

  I pulled into my spot, took one last look around and ran for the door, just sure if Jerkface didn’t get me, the lightening would.

  Neither did.

  I took a quick shower. Really quick because lightening can find its way down the pipes and shoot out the showerhead and then the fire department has to drag your half-fried naked self out past all your neighbors, and that just isn’t good.

  Fortunately, there was no lightening strike.

  I called my mother to see if there was anything I needed to do to help with the wedding. She assured me there wasn’t, which really kind of disappointed me.

  I was about to fix a quick cup of tea when someone pounded on the door. It was the UPS guy. My alternate dress for the wedding had just arrived.

  The first choice dress was simply a dress that I had in the ‘Teagan made me buy it’ area of my closet. I’ve never actually worn it, so wearing it for the wedding would be fine.

  Teagan, knowing how I am, got online without my knowledge or consent and bought me a dress. She said I’m wearing it. I don’t get to vote. She won’t even tell me what it looks like.

  The truth is, I’m tall and streamlined and she’s all about short and curvy. I’m a whole other animal. But if there’s one thing that Teagan is reasonable about, it’s not making me look like an idiot. Not really cause she cares if I look like an idiot, she’d love me anyway and might even be seen in public with me, depending on her mood, but she has a reputation as a stylist to worry about.

  When she sees the dress she picked on me, she’ll see that she screwed up, and I’ll return the dress. No big deal.

  My dress, the one that has been hiding in the closet, is a deep eggplant color that Teagan insists on calling aubergine. It has a ballet neckline, which looks good on me, cause I have great clavicles even if I have no curves. The sleeves are really sheer and about three-quarter length, although I’m not convinced that they aren’t supposed to be bracelet length. The bodice is fitted, and does a little crossover thing that isn’t obvious but makes it look like I actually have a chest. It’s a little longer than tea length, and with sky-high heels and the right jewelry, which a sales lady will be happy to help me pick out, I’m sure I will be stunning.

  I haven’t decided if my hair should go up or down but I can do that last minute.

  I thanked Mr. UPS and opened the box with Teagan’s dress of choice. The dress looked a little flimsy. Trust Teagan to go all sexy on me. She has the body to be sexy. I prefer classic. She swears that means matronly. I disagree.

  I pulled the dress out of the box and almost had a heart attack. First, she spent a fortune. Second, the thing is completely see through. Completely. But, she did get the color right. I have blue eyes, and there’s this one shade of blue, kind of a mix between sea blue and teal blue, but in a really deep tone and when I wear it my eyes pop, my complexion looks flawless and my hair is shiny.

  She got that color right.

  Based on the color, I decided I would try the dress on and if it was fabulous I’d just have to find some kind of slip or something.

  I carried the dress and box into my bedroom. I tossed the box on the bed and headed for the bathroom with the dress. The light in there is better for these things.

  I’d made it into the bathroom when I heard the box hit the floor. Being more than a little OCD about such things, I went back into the bedroom to pick up the box before I tried on the dress. When the box fell, the packing tissue went everywhere and there was a slip thing that went with the dress splayed on the floor.

  It was beautiful.

  It was just a simple silky sheath, but it had several colors in a really pretty pattern. I slipped it on, put the sheer dress over it, and ran for the bathroom.

  Teagan has some skills.

  I’ve never looked so good and I didn’t have any makeup on and my hair wasn’t done or anything.

  I called her.

  “Dress just showed up.”

  “What do you think?”

  “Teagan, it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Does it fit?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “Good.”

  “But it was so expensive.”

  “Not really. I got a great price on it. I’ll show you the receipt later.

  “Promise?”

  “Yep, well within budget.”

  “Okay. I’ve gotta find shoes.”

  “No problem. I found them already. Just run over to my favorite place, there’s a round display just as you walk in the door. Don’t look at those, you’d kill yourself, but I bought the pair on the left, the ones with the straps, anyway, you go to that display and look to your right. There’s an endcap with your shoes right there. They are exactly the color of the purple in the silk underdress. Buy them.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Go now. They’re beautiful and they’ll sell out. They’re even on sale.”

  “I’m on my way. Anything I can do for you?”

  “Nope. Jessie is picking me up in like an hour, we’re going to Saint Pete for dinner, then we’re going to Old Town for drinks at that bar with the sing along thing every night. I know it sounds dorky, but it’s actually a lot of fun, and Jess
ie has a great voice.”

  “Well, I’m glad one of you does.”

  “Yeah, my voice is bad enough that no one even tries to make me get up there and sing.”

  “Well, if they ever do, get in touch with your inner Dita Von Teese and you’ll do fine.”

  “My, my, Cara, our good little girl is breaking right out of her shell.”

  “I said for you to do it, I’d never do that.”

  “Never say never. You and AJ have a great night tonight, I’ll call you tomorrow and we can do lunch and talk over my problems for a change.”

  “AJ is MIA, but I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “MIA? What does that mean?”

  “Missing in action.”

  “I know that Dingleberry, I mean why did you say that he’s MIA?”

  “No biggy. I’ve texted him a few times today and he hasn’t responded.”

  “Is that like him?”

  “No, but he has a bunch of work to do. He’s doing all the promotional work with the bar to help Morgan and Jovana out, and he’s trying to help Sara out.”

  “Sara?”

  “The designer who’s working with Morgan, doing the whole barter thing.”

  “Right. Sorry. Forgot her name.”

  “Anyway, he’s doing all of that, plus his regular workload. He said that he’s now working full time making the same money he used to make working one weekend a month, so the last thing I would do is comment on how many hours he has to work, but I still wish he would check in every now and then.”

  “I can see that. All of our clients in the service industry have been challenged. The economy, then the natural disasters, then the manmade disasters, seems like it’s one thing after another, but the good news is, it seems to be picking back up.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears.”

  After changing clothes, again, I hung the dress up in my closet.

  I went into the kitchen and tried to decide what was next in rotation. In my reality, it’s pretty much moo, then cluck, then oink and I throw in an occasional gobble to keep it interesting. On the rare occasion that I’m trying to be a little more circumspect with my diet, I might throw a swimmer in rotation. I must be getting older because I do that a little more often these days.

  I decided to do slow cooked pork chops, with garlic, which for me is a very adventurous spice, with some mashed potatoes, no surprise there. Steamed veggies for AJ and ice cream for dessert for me, but he can have some too.

  I pulled out my electric skillet, I have no idea why, but the pork chops just cook better in the electric skillet.

  I tried to decide how late AJ would be but the beauty of my pork chops is that it doesn’t matter if I cook them for 30 minutes or 3 hours, they come out great.

  I grabbed some pork chops out of the fridge. I got those really thick ones, boneless, on sale the other day. I’ll just butterfly them. Not exactly the same as a regular chop, but it will work.

  I turned on the electric skillet, which was now sitting on a thick wooden cutting board that I’d laid across my kitchen sink. Normally I put it over the stove and cook there since I can use the overhead fan if something starts to smoke, but this particular recipe is more likely to splatter and I can clean that up more easily in the sink area. I put a silicone pad, one of the ones made to protect the bottom of your oven from drips, under the skillet on top of the wood. Starting the house on fire would create even more of a mess than browning a piece of pork.

  Normally I have the TV on for background noise, but the lightening’s hitting so hard and fast that chances are good I’m gonna loose power a few times before the night is over. I’m always worried about my TV blowing up, so when big storms hit I unplug that puppy. I’ve got a Zap Cap on the electric meter outside because it’s supposed to be a really good surge protector and I’ve got everything plugged into surge protection inside, but a couple of years ago I was at my parent’s house, when lightening hit the house down the street. By the time everything was said and done, there was one hurt fireman, several traumatized neighbors, including me, and half of the house gone. The house was rebuilt better than new, and they now have a second story on it, but they lost things they can’t replace. Now I’m a little paranoid.

  I slapped my pork into the electric skillet, love that sizzle noise, was a little over generous with the garlic, added some white pepper, some ginger, and let them brown. Once the first side was done, I repeated the process on the second side, and then added veggie broth to the meat, turned the electric skillet down, and covered it.

  That done, I grabbed some potatoes to peel.

  Having a conversation with myself is pretty normal, if Teagan isn’t around, who else really wants to listen to me? “Great Cara, you covered the stupid sink, where are you going to peel potatoes?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  I looked up and saw Jerkface. Right there. In my living room.

  It is not an exaggeration to say that I almost had a heart attack.

  I considered fainting, but couldn’t decide what he would do while I lay helpless on the ground. Helpless is bad. I decided not to faint. Not yet.

  I couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to do or say, so I just stood there, peeler in hand, skillet bubbling away, Jerkface drenched like a drowned rat, standing in my living room, dripping on my carpet.

  “Aren’t you going to say something Cara?”

  “I kind of figured that you were in charge. I figured if you wanted me to talk you would ask me a question.”

  “Smart woman.”

  “I hope so.”

  We stood there for a while. Lightening hit right outside my window. Scared the ever-loving bejeezus out of me. I jumped.

  “Scared Cara?”

  “I think anybody in their right mind would be a little nervous. You’re in my apartment. You were not invited. I don’t know why you’re here or what you want. Being a little jumpy is probably the only reasonable thing to be.”

  “I’ve tried to talk to you Cara but you just won’t listen.”

  “I’m listening now.”

  “Yeah. You’re listening now that you’ve ruined everything.”

  Okay, I admit it, he pushed a button, and unfortunately, at those times in life when a normal person would be quiet, I get loud. I can’t help it. It’s a blurtation issue.

  I may have been loud, “I ruined everything? Excuse me? I didn’t do anything at all. If you weren’t following me around and lying to me and everyone else, your life wouldn’t be what it is. You did this to you. All I did was a favor for the family priest. I didn’t start this. I still don’t know what the hell this even is.”

  “You’re a smart woman, Cara. That’s what everybody says.”

  “Obviously you aren’t talking about my family, so just who is ‘everybody’?”

  “You just can’t shut up. You always have to be a smartass. I’m trying to help you.”

  “Yeah, you want to explain that to me, cause you’re dripping on my carpet, uninvited, unannounced, and unwanted. I don’t see that as particularly helpful.”

  “I told you to get out of the way.”

  “You told me that you were working on an undercover operation for the police. If that were the case, what the hell happened in the parking lot? The police didn’t seem to be involved in your actions, or was that all an act just to make the bad guys think you were doing something you weren’t?”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “I agree. So why don’t you tell me?”

  “You really want me to do that? You really want to know what’s going on Cara?”

  “What I really want is for you to turn around and leave. I’ll sop up all the water on my carpet, you stay away, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

  “Too late.”

  “It’s never too late. Life is cause and effect. Everything you do changes the outcome of everything to date. You can choose to make the outcome of this situati
on different by the decisions you make right now.”

  “Good theory, but haven’t you ever heard of momentum? This whole thing started a while ago. Now it’s rolling down hill. I swear to God I thought it was all gonna be okay, but then everything went to shit, and still, I thought I could turn it around, just like you said, but then I couldn’t find it. I looked everywhere.”