by Andrea Hurst
“And too big!” John laughed. “Last thing I want to do is see you hurting again, boy. After Denise died, you were so depressed I was afraid I was going to lose you too.”
“If it wasn’t for little Jason, that might have happened. But no way I would ever leave my son.”
The fire in the wood stove was waning. John added some fresh wood and kindling, and the flames licked the edges then burst into flame.
“So, Gramps, you seem to be the expert on women in this family. I sure could use some advice.”
John fell into his chair laughing. “Me? An expert?”
“Don’t laugh so hard, you know what I mean. You lost Grandma Carol and you still were able to love again.”
Ian watched how mentioning Carol’s name still brought a twinge of pain to John’s face.
“You really never get over losing someone you love, Ian. I won’t kid you, it hurts. I don’t want to use trite phrases like ‘life goes on,’ but the fact is, it does. And I believe the human heart can love again. When Maggie and I got together after we both had lost our spouses, I had all those feelings you have, too. Guilt about caring for another woman, confusion, and fear of ever having to lose someone I love again.”
The room filled with silence. Ian knew that each of them was remembering the common thread of loss that bound them together–losing a wife, watching her die. For John, watching Carol suffer a stroke right after their 50th wedding anniversary was devastating. She’d been paralyzed and unable to speak. With deep love and gentle care, he’d nursed her at home for months until she finally slipped away in her sleep. John had found her one morning, resting peacefully in their bed, the one they had shared for more than 50 years. Ian wondered how John had ever gotten out of bed after that.
“It is a hard, long road back, son. I never thought I’d wake up happy to see another morning after that. You gotta remember, I was almost 71 years old when it happened. You, Ian, are a young man, and you have a responsibility to your son to make a happy family life for him. Denise would want you both to be happy, you know that.”
Ian clenched his teeth, trying to hold back the sorrow and tears that blurred his vision. He wiped them away briskly with his flannel shirt sleeve. “See what an idiot I am? I still can’t even think of her without welling up in the faucet department.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t have feelings for another woman. I notice you’ve been over visiting that nice Lily next door.”
Ian jumped from the chair and began to pace the room. Then he stopped abruptly and met his grandfather’s eyes. “I asked her to dinner tonight. Yes…when I’m around her, I feel emotions that I thought were long gone. I don’t know what to think. She’s not even divorced yet, and it’s plain she is not ready for some guy hitting on her now. But I just keep thinking about her and then find myself over there offering to help out.”
“Just let yourself do what comes natural. She’s a real nice young woman and she could use some help about now.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Ian said as he grabbed his coat. “I think I’ll go out to the studio and do some painting.”
“You do that, Ian. I’ll heat up some supper in a little while and come get you.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lily looked at her watch. It was after four, and the nap had revived her. She wondered if Jude would like to meet for a glass of wine before dinner. She needed someone to talk to. Why did she turn Ian down for dinner? She really did want to go. And such a lame excuse, telling him she was too tired. And now, when he saw her drive away, he was going to know she was not too tired to do something else. When she got to town, she parked the car and headed to Island Thyme Café. Lily pushed open the door and almost bumped right into Jude.
“My, my, Lily, you look a little flushed. Hangover? In love?” She motioned to the bar. “Have a glass of wine, we’ll sit and talk.”
Lily plopped onto the barstool. “Why did I have to meet him? I sure don’t need another man in my life right now.”
“By ‘him,’ I assume you mean Ian. Spill the beans, let’s have it,” Jude said, pouring some wine.
Lily gulped down the flowery Chardonnay. “I’m finally free, building my own life. Ian is…just an interruption.”
Jude burst out laughing. “I told you he was a hottie.”
Lily glared at Jude. “Why does he have to seem so perfect? He’s kind, understanding, and those blue eyes…”
“Here, have a little more wine. So, what would be so bad about dating him?”
“When I’m around him, I feel like I’m melting, losing myself again, and I don’t want another man to control me, ever.”
Jude shifted on her stool. “Take it slow and see what happens. Ian’s a good guy, and you’ll know when and if it’s right.”
“I don’t know what I want. The only thing I do know is what I don’t want, and that could fill a book. I read some entries in my grandma’s Guestbook, and the couples all seem so happy. Sometimes I think I want that for myself. Then I remember Brad.”
“All men are not Brad. Or like your father. It’s an unfair comparison.” Jude raised her glass. “Let’s toast. To happy endings.”
Reluctantly, Lily lifted her glass and echoed the sentiment. “To happy endings.” She sighed. “You know, I even love his grandfather and his kid. Can’t you see us as one big, happy family? Do things like that ever come true?”
“Ask Kyla,” Jude said holding up her glass for a toast. “She’s the tea leaf reader.”
✦✦✦✦
Lily had just come into town to look at another view of gray, and now here she was letting Jude drag her over to Kyla’s for a reading.
Jude gave Lily’s arm a little tug. “Come on, Lily. Kyla’s not going to bite, she’s just gonna read a few tea leaves for you.”
Lily was not so sure about that. There was something different about Kyla, something that spoke of secret knowings and mysterious powers. She had opened up at their slumber party a little, but still. “I’ve never done this before. How does she do these things? What’s her background?”
Jude stopped on the entry step to the quaint shop and turned to face Lily. “It’s not like you’re going to a witch’s den or some TV psychic. Kyla’s the real thing.”
“How is that supposed to make me feel better? Just what exactly is the real thing?”
Jude chuckled and leaned in close to whisper in Lily’s ear. “A Green Witch, not to be mistaken for a sandwich!”
Lily pulled away with alarm and started back toward the car. “I suppose you think that’s really funny. I’ve heard of people who work with plants and herbs being referred to in that way. I just never heard of them doing tea leaf readings. I think I’ll pass.”
Jude caught up to Lily and put her arms around her. Patting her fondly on the back, she said, “Lily, I’m sorry. You just looked so scared, I couldn’t resist teasing you. Really, Kyla is the most amazing reader. Her insight and healing methods will blow you away…gently, that is. Just try it, for me?”
Lily looked warily at the sign above the inviting wood door: Tea & Comfort. Both sounded pretty good to her right now. And she was curious. It couldn’t hurt to give this a try. With all the other new things she was doing, she just might find this quite intriguing. “Oh, all right,” she exhaled sharply. “Let’s go.”
They heard the tinkling of chimes as they walked through the doorway. A portly Siamese cat sat perched on the windowsill, obviously hoping for a few weak rays of sun to pour through. The shop smelled woody and spicy. Shelves filled with glass jars packed with herbs and dried flowers lined the walls. Other antique wood shelves were lined with teapots and cups in every shape, size, color, and pattern. Near the cash register, a low table was covered with baskets filled with homemade soaps in scents from jasmine to lemon verbena. Tall pillar candles lined the windowsill, each wrapped with a ribbon holding a fresh herb knotted into it. Jude was right, this place was amazing. Lily wandered around sniffing each item, admiring the herb and flo
wer arrangements resting on ledges atop the windows and doors and the hand-painted floral designs on the walls and shelves. Enchanting was the only way to describe it.
Kyla emerged from behind some deep-violet curtains. “Good morning, ladies, welcome. I just brewed a fresh pot of chamomile tea with rose petals. How about joining me? Just sit anywhere and I’ll bring it out.
Jude and Lily walked over to the other side of the store, where there was a small tearoom filled with round tables covered in lace or floral-print tablecloths. Each table was set with fresh flowers in a bud vase.
An affirmative chorus of “ahhh” filled the tearoom. Lily picked a table by the front window where she could pet the Siamese cat that sat on the sill and they could look out between the lace curtains to the flowerpots outside. Even in early March, with all this rain and cold, Kyla had flowers and herbs growing out there. She really did have a green thumb. Lily sank into the comfortable chair. Just the girls having tea; she liked the feel of that simple act.
“I baked some of those anise-lemon cream scones you like, Jude, so help yourself.” Kyla placed a white china plate edged with a rose pattern onto the middle of the table. The scones were warm and smelled of a fresh garden. The teapot looked like a rose garden trimmed with spun gold, and when the tea was poured into the cups, it glowed with a golden hue.
Lily tasted the scone. “It’s like biting into spring. I feel like I’m sitting in a garden basking in the early morning sun.”
Kyla laughed. “You’re an easy one to transport! Now let me see that dainty hand of yours.” Kyla took Lily’s right hand and turned it over to look at her palm. “Hmm, strong-willed and very creative.”
“My hand says that about me?”
“And much more,” Kyla answered. “But you’re not here for this. I have some imported black tea brewing in the back, and we’ll see what those leaves have to say.”
After sipping the fragrant tea together for a while, Jude rose from the table. “Well, girls, I think I’ll go do some window shopping and pretend I’m on vacation for an hour before I have to go back to the café. Have fun. Lunch tomorrow, my place. Okay, Lil?”
“See you then,” Lily said.
Kyla led Lily through the velvet curtains and into a small back parlor with a kitchenette. An overstuffed couch was laden with colorful pillows and a small table flanked by two wingback chairs stood by the wood stove, catching its warmth. The table, covered with a multi-colored, embroidered silk scarf, held a scented pillar candle flaming in the center.
“Take a seat,” Kyla said, pointing to one of the chairs. She handed Lily a wide-rimmed, petite cup of hot liquid. Loose tea leaves floated on the surface and others sank slowly to the bottom. “I like to use white cups because they make a clean canvas for the reading.”
“We drink it first?” Lily asked.
Kyla laughed. “That’s usually what you do with tea. Just enjoy it. Think about those parts of your life where you’d like some clarity as you sip it down.”
Lily finished most of her tea and waited for what would happen next.
“Now,” Kyla said, “put the cup in your left hand and swirl the tea leaves around three times in a clockwise direction.”
Lily watched the leaves float around in a circular motion and thought of her life, swirling all around her in much the same way. She laid the cup down. “Okay, what’s next?”
Kyla took the handle of the cup and tipped it sideways, slowly draining the last bit of tea into the saucer. Then she set the cup on the table in front of her guest with the handle pointing towards Lily.
Lily watched as Kyla leaned over the cup, how her gaze softened and her eyes clouded over after she took a slow deep breath.
“Much to see, much to tell,” Kyla said. “Coming from darkness, but moving to light. Detours, the leaves show two paths, one is lit and ends in heart-pink roses; the other is dry desert and ends in tears.”
Lily let out her breath, unaware that she had been holding it. “Do you see that in the leaves? How do you know what it means?”
Kyla’s eyes focused back into the room. “I was taught the skill from my Irish grandmother, and my mother. This tea ritual has been in our family for generations. You can Google Tasseography if you want a definition.”
“I will.”
“It’s not what you may think of as magic,” Kyla continued. “The patterns and symbols are an excellent tool for tapping into the unconscious. Of course, my grandmother believed it was a lot more than that.”
“How does it work for you, Kyla?”
“I use the ancient interpretations, but I also listen and see what I am shown in my head and heart as well. Look yourself at the leaves and tell me what you see.”
Lily stared into the cup, waiting for impressions to form. She could feel Kyla’s eyes on her and felt a bit exposed. She pointed to a cluster of tea leaves near the top of the cup. “This image looks like a picket fence.”
Kyla turned her focus to the spot Lily was pointing too. “Yes, it does, and near the rim, too. Generally symbols near the top of the cup mean something will happen soon, or are happening now. A fence represents a block, a temporary setback that prevents you from moving in the direction you need to go.”
Kyla’s eyes scanned the inside of the cup then closed. “The leaves show a split mind and a wavering heart that wants to be set free. The wings of your soul seek flight, to rise and reach the freedom of the stars. But, there is still a small amount of murky water around your mind. It is not clear yet, time and choices. It is your path to claim.” With that, Kyla opened her eyes and looked directly at Lily.
Lily stared back, feeling a sudden, inexplicable, deep connection with the woman across the table. Kyla’s words rang true. They touched her, yet frightened her as well. Lily pointed to an image that looked like a large, thick branch. “And this image?”
“Hmmm, an injustice is weighing heavily on your mind and heart. But there is a perfect circle further down, do you see it?” Lily nodded her head. “And next to it, what appears to be a star. These are very positive indicators of triumph and happiness, but they are in the distance, not quite in sight yet.”
Lily waited for Kyla to focus back to her again. “Can I ask a specific question?”
“Of course.”
“There is someone I worry about, don’t trust. Can you see anything on him?”
Kyla pointed to a wavy trail of tea leaves. “This looks like a snake, perhaps apropos of this man?”
Lily laughed uneasily. “I’d say so.”
“The snake can mean an enemy, someone quiet and deceptive ready to strike. But remember, Lily, if you rise above its lowly crawl, snake medicine is one of great wisdom. By its placement in the cup, I see it forcing you to gather strength and encouraging you to find greater self-knowledge.”
Lily paused, taking it all in. Strangely, it made sense and reminded her just how important her choices were now and not to underestimate Brad or the strange letters.
“All in all, Lily, this is a very positive reading. Tears line the bottom of the cup, but the strong image of the sun is in your future. It is up to you to choose to follow its bright rays.” Kyla stood, stretched, and inhaled deeply. Then she picked up the teacup brought it to the sink and rinsed it out.
Kyla’s words resonated deep within Lily. Disturbing emotions played at the surface of Lily’s heart, but she also felt a well of strength building up inside. Jude was right. She did feel amazing—lighter and more clear-headed.
“Thank you so much, Kyla. That was very special and meant a lot to me.” She felt the urge to embrace the slim woman standing before her, but something kept her from reaching out.
“Come on in the front, Lily. I’ll make you a special tea blend to take home, and I’ll give you an herbal candle to help with focus and calmness.” Kyla pulled some jars off the shelf and began preparing the special formula.
Lily picked a brochure off the counter and read over the afternoon tea menu. She could almost taste each
item; finger sandwiches with Devonshire cream and fresh fruit preserves, fresh greens and herb salads, and an amazing array of teas graced the page. She wandered around again, enjoying the soaps and candles. “I love your shop, Kyla. I feel so comfortable here. The name Tea & Comfort is perfect. Do you make the candles too?”
Kyla measured then poured herbs into a clear plastic bag and labeled it. Without looking up, she answered, “I grow many of the herbs in my garden and have a large barn where I make the candles, soaps, and lotions. I do have a young helper, so I can’t take all the credit.” Kyla handed her a glass jar labeled Calm & Serenity. “This is an aromatic jar. Leave it on a kitchen counter or your coffee table, and whenever you walk by it, lift the lid and take a whiff. The herbs will uplift your spirit and calm any anxiety.”
Lily lifted the lid and inhaled slowly. The smell was divine, probably in more ways than one, she thought, chuckling quietly to herself. “What’s in this heavenly concoction?”
“Fresh, dried herbs mostly, some thyme, oatstraw, rosemary, rose petals, and a touch of cardamom. And here is your tea, made to order.”
Lily read the label, Courage & Triumph Blend.
“For you, I combined sage for concentration, chamomile and linden flower for calmness and confidence, and fennel seed for balance and joy. Be sure to add fresh island honey to the brew. And, as a housewarming gift—and to brew your tea in, of course—choose any teapot on the shelf that calls to your heart.”
“Kyla, you’ve been so generous already, please let me pay you for the teapot, at least.”
Kyla looked directly at Lily. “Receiving gifts is an art in itself. Now choose the one that speaks to you.”
Lily wandered over to the shelf of teapots. The English garden ones were beautiful, and so were the small Japanese pots. She ran her hand over a delicate midnight blue clay pot. Images of dragonflies were carved along the base and handle. This one was hers.
Kyla wrapped the pot in tissue and inserted it into a gift box. “Good choice. Dragonflies signify new beginnings and new unions…sometimes marriage.”
