Taking Tea

The heavy steam rose from the spout and danced in the air between them like a

flighty ballerina in show. It grazed her cheek with a kind hand, leaving a soft rouge just before disappearing in the air above them. She breathed in the scent of the mint tea with a soft smile and closed eyes. She was completely content.

Daniel sat beside her at the bar with his book in hand. The arrival of the tea caught his attention. He lifted his chin to see the beauty of the roses blooming in her cheeks. Her eyes opened and she looked rejuvenated, with a brilliance in the whites of her eyes that reminded him of when she would wake in the early hours of the morning. He put his book down and crossed behind her chair, taking the porcelain teapot in his olive hands, pouring generously into her cup first before moving to his own. He planted a soft kiss on her cheek, crossed back towards his seat, and placed the pot between them. They blew the dancing steam from the tops of their cups before sharing the first sip.

Daniel sat his cup down. “You put mint in it?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “Like you showed me last time.”
“Good memory,” he complimented as he reached for the sugar.
She put her teacup down and picked up the creamer, pouring lavishly into the

cup. The white cream frolicked in the brown tea until they mixed themselves into one. A nice cafe au lait color. Daniel looked over from the corner of his eye and watched her wrist as she stirred the spoon.

The cream, she thought, made the tea feel soft against her throat. It was like her insides were being wrapped in a blanket. It relaxed her, and that’s what she liked about it. She did the same thing with her coffee. In America, she would pour herself a dark brew when the pressures of her studies were looming over her shoulder. On days she wanted to relax, however, she poured milk and sugar so freely into her cup that the sugar grains would stick to the back of her teeth until long after the cup had been drank. She swore it made a world of difference.

She watched Daniel take a sip, and he smiled back with blushed cheeks. Her eyes danced down his neck, across his chest, and frolicked along the bar. They promenaded by the tea pot, and meandered towards her notebook, computer and books. Her essay sat patiently on her laptop, waiting to welcome her back to her studies. She sighed as she picked up her pen.

Daniel, who had been watching her keenly, was suddenly reminded of what brought them there in the first place. “I’ll let you work.”

She smiled and took his hand gently.

Only seven hundred more words until the paper would be done. When the paper would be done, so would her semester. And when the semester would be done, so would her time in London. She put her pen down.

She cleared her throat. “Feel free to distract me as much as you wish,” she chimed pleasantly as she picked up her teacup.

He cracked a smile and closed his book. “Sounds good to me.”

Pans clattered in the cafe as cooks prepared sandwiches and soups. Customers chattered over biscuits and tea about their families, careers, and the poor English weather. Groups of professionals discussed upcoming events and business meetings that needed tending to. Several people sat by themselves, chattering on the phone looking out the window at the steady stream of Londoners marching down Marylebone High Street. So much, yet so little, seemed to be happening all at once. She looked around the tea shop, looking at all the different walks of life that, for some reason, decided to stop in at the Conran’s Shop today for tea. Each person was completely engulfed in their own world.

Daniel touched her hand. “Next pot is on me.” He nursed the last few sips from his cup.

“Perfect,” she said with a grin. They sat together for a moment, holding each other’s hand. His dark brown eyes looked particularly lovely today, she thought. His light brown hair was tousled as normal. It needed combed. But his hair did not make his eyes look any less lovely.

“How is your play coming along?” she grinned with excitement.

He drew his hand back and ran it through his messy hair. A sigh escaped his lungs. “I haven’t written in forever…I just don’t have any ideas,” he said with frustration.

Surprised, she reached over and placed a loving hand on his forearm. “Maybe you just needed a break,” she suggested cheerfully. “Your semester just ended and you were under quite a bit of stress. A mind needs time to relax.”

“I feel so lazy when I have writer’s block,” he huffed as he sat back in his seat, looking at nothing in particular. “What kind of career can I make out of this if I can’t work for days at a time?”

She shook her head. “Don’t think like that. You’ll never feel inspired if you put that much pressure on yourself.”

He shrugged. “I need to go somewhere beautiful. Somewhere I can write and not have to worry about anything.”

“You deserve something nice,” she agreed as she pet his arm. “Would you be able to go on vacation when you go back home?”

“Maybe Italy. Somewhere on the Amalfi Coast, perhaps.” His eyes drifted off as he stared out the window to the street of busy Londoners. She followed his eyes, and wondered what he was seeing. “So long as it’s reasonably priced with good food, I’ll be alright,” he chuckled.

She grinned as she sat back in her seat. “That would be very nice.” In that moment, she imagined what it would be like to go on vacation with him. She got an image of Daniel writing furiously in a notebook with her beside him, soaking up the sun on her front as she caressing his scribbling arm. She felt the most love for him when she watched him work.

“I wish you could come with me,” he turned his eyes towards her.
The smile on her face chipped. “Me too,” she whispered.
He held her hand and stroked the back with his thumb. They let the moment

settle before deciding where to go from there.

He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “What about you? How is your work coming along?”

She sighed and looked back at her computer. “About seven hundred words left. It’s not coming out well at all,” she confessed with laugh.

He smiled. “I meant about your personal writing,” he clarified as he reached for his teacup. “Have you been working on anything recently?”

She thumbed through the files of half-finished stories and untitled documents. Most of them had a handful of sentences that came to her in fits of inspiration, but grew lackluster in the passing days.

“I have a few ideas,” she answered with a twitch in her mouth. “Nothing profound.”

A silence hung in the air.
“I would love for you to come to Italy with me,” he spoke softly.
A familiar smile reappeared on her face as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I

would love that too.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Maybe we can do a weekend in Italy when I teach next year. That would be lovely,” she suggested.

“It would be,” he replied as he sipped his tea. “How likely do you think you are to get the job?”

She let out a gentle sigh as she was reminded of the uncertainty of their future. “I think I have a pretty decent shot,” she answered. “They ask that you speak the native language proficiently, that you’ve had experience abroad, and that you have at least a

bachelor’s degree. I’ll have all of that when I apply,” she clutched the handle of the teacup.

“That would be really nice if you could get in,” Daniel with cautious excitement.

“Yeah,” she agreed, and swallowed again. “It would definitely save us a lot on travel expenses when we go to see each other,” she spoke with a deflated laugh.

“Wait,” Daniel started. “How much would it cost to fly from Kentucky to Germany?” He did not realize he had no idea until this moment.

“Twelve-hundred euros? That was about the cost of my plane ticket to London,” she answered.

His eyes widened as he almost choked on his tea. “Shit!” he exclaimed, as he put the cup down. “How are they that expensive?!”

She sipped from her teacup.

He shook his head. “My family would never pay that much for a flight.” he continued in the same astonished tone. “Our trips to Jordan only cost about four hundred euros round trip!”

She felt a sweat break on her temple. The tea is too hot, she thought. She sat it down and crossed her legs, folding her hands together. “That doesn’t seem that bad,” she replied quietly.

“We always book them way in advance to avoid paying that much,” he explained as he took another sip. “What if we were to book flights now for later next year? Would that make them any cheaper?”

She exhaled. “I booked my ticket to London about a eight months in advance.”

Daniel shook his head.
There was a sobering pause. She shifted uncomfortably under the pressure of

being weighed against the value of twelve hundred euros. Words boiled behind her lips as the sweat beaded on her temples.

There’s too much sugar in her tea, she thought. Her hands had a slight tremble. “I will buy the ticket when you put on my play!” she exalted. Daniel froze.

She realized she spoke louder than she had intended. No one in Conran’s seemed to care. They continued, completely uninterrupted, in their own worlds. She grabbed a napkin and wiped off her temples, fighting off a daring sob.

He rubbed his hands in his hair and dropped his elbows on the bar. A deep inhale rattled his lungs. He sat up before he spoke. “I wouldn’t want you to put up that kind of money on a…” he exhaled. “…a fringe theatre show.”

The pans continued to clatter in the kitchen, the people chattered away carelessly, and she sat beside Daniel unable to fathom how the world could continue. There was a time and place to think logically about the future. But now in Conran’s, while she was clinging to their last hours in London together, was not it. She was well aware that soon she would be sitting in a cafe alone in Kentucky, sipping coffee instead of tea, writing him lengthy messages in the mid afternoon while he would be getting ready to go to bed. With time, they would find other muses and forget about each other. It would not be torturous, just a dull ache. Every time she took tea with mint leaves, or read a German author she would think of him, as he would when he heard a southern

accent, or read about the mountains. But why couldn’t he pretend, for a moment, that their paths were forever intertwined?

“Daniel,” she spoke quietly. “I would buy that ticket. No matter what.”

He turned to her and smiled weakly at her forehead. “We’ll keep an eye on flight prices. How about that?”