Another Cup of Tea?
Mrs. Horncroft was sitting in her garden sipping tea and talking with her sister, Abigail. The two women were dressed in light colored cotton and sitting under the willow tree, which shaded them from the sun in the bright blue sky. There was no wind, but it wasn’t hot and the tea was still steaming out the spout of its pot.
Mrs. Horncroft laughed. “How’s your husband, dear?”
Abigail’s face clouded. “Oh, he’s just fine.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Mrs. Horncroft poured herself a cup of tea and stirred in a little milk with one lump of sugar. Abigail’s cup made rapid clinks against its saucer before she finally put it down on the table and leaned back, smiling against the back of the chair she was sitting.
“Is he still at the bank?”
“No, he…lost that job a little while ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Did he find another one?”
“Well, Thomas is asking him to go work at the steel mill with him, but he’s too stubborn to go.”
“Dear, it isn’t an honorable position; I don’t blame him.”
“But it’s a job.”
Mrs. Horncroft put down her cup of tea. She allowed her eyes to get appropriately wide enough, but here sister wasn’t paying attention.
“Thomas and his friends are still young and they have a little time to get a good job and settle into an appropriate position in order to find a wife. I don’t think someone his age should be looking for a girl, just yet. He’s only nineteen for heaven’s sake!”
Abigail nodded absent-mindedly. Her sister raised an eyebrow, but that also went unnoticed.
“Is there anything else you’re not telling me?”
Abigail looked at her sister. “No, not at all.”
Mrs. Horncroft cleared her throat daintily and poured more tea into her sister’s cup. Abigail’s hands had stopped shaking and she folded them in her lap as she waited for her sister to hand her the tea. She smiled, but Mrs. Horncroft did not return it.
“Darling, what is going on?”
Abigail shook her head. “Nothing.”
“How is Thomas, by the way?”
“He’s just fine. He’s going back to school in the fall; the contractor is letting him go. And he’s going to the university after that. All of the schools love his grades, so I’m sure he’ll be able to find an upscale school.”
Mrs. Horncroft smiled.
“But John hasn’t found a job?”
Abigail used the silence as an opportunity to take a large gulp of tea, which she uncomfortably swallowed down.
“He’s decided to go to the United States,” she said finally. “He thinks he can start a business over there selling liquor. He insists that his business will thrive there and won’t listen to me otherwise.” Tears started to well up inside her large brown eyes. “I told him not to leave his son and present a good example, but he told me he already set up the shop and has a ticket to travel across the Atlantic for Thursday.”
“Why can’t he get a job here?”
“He was fired from the bank based on some awful rumors that we had been harboring the serial killer, Jack the Ripper. I had never heard of such a lie, but apparently the bank didn’t want to risk it and let him go. He’s had a hard time getting another job since the bank is influential and has spread the rumor very fast.”
“But your son—”
“Thomas doesn’t know anything about it and unless this rumor impairs him, he doesn’t need to know.”
Mrs. Horncroft watched as her sister put down her cup of tea and wiped her eyes on a bleached white handkerchief. Then, Abigail took another shaky sip and put the saucer back down on the table.
“How is your husband, dear? And your daughter?” she asked.
“Oh, they’re well,” Mrs. Horncroft said. “Sarah says she found the perfect gentleman, but she won’t bring him home and she’s only sixteen. I worry about her choices.”
“I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about.”
Mrs. Horncroft took another sip of tea instead of snorting as was instinctive. “I don’t want her to end up in the family way.”
“I’m sure she won’t. She has wonderful morals.”
“That may be so, but I won’t dismiss what she does without thinking. Every child does it sometimes.”
“But she’s almost a woman.”
“Almost, but not quite.”
Abigail took a sip of tea and remained quiet. She swirled around the dregs as her sister sighed.
“I suppose you’re right to some extent.” Mrs. Horncroft picked up the teapot. “Another cup of tea, dear?”
This entry was posted on Monday, August 27th, 2007 at 7:44 pm and is filed under Fiction Prose, Realistic Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.