A reminder of how simple , thoughtful exchanges provide some comfort in our times of need.
Seagulls squawked above, cars whizzed by. But it was the sound of the wind rustling softly through the trees outside that comforted her the most as she sat motionless in her armchair. A gentle reminder that she was just a wee speck in the grand scheme of things. Carol got out of her armchair, walked the short distance to her small kitchen and flicked the jug on. A cuppa always did the trick.
A clock ticked methodically away in the kitchen, and the jug whistled happily away. Her dog Hector lay on his side, snoring peacefully without a care in the world as Peanut the cat watched with slitted eyes from her perch on the arm of her favourite armchair.
Carol went to the pantry and chose her favourite mug. She'd been given it by one of her grandkids. Probably from a $2 shop. It said “To The Best Nana In The World”. Silly, but somehow it always cheered her up. Even though two year old Sophie wouldn't have even known what the brightly-coloured letters meant. Carol put in a tea-bag. It was always bell tea. She'd tried those herbal teas but they weren't very appealing at all. Her daughter Laura was always trying to get her to try them. Putrid. Bob always said that they tasted like dish-washing water. Dear Bob...she sure missed sharing cups of tea with Bob.
Damn it. She was all out of gingernuts! Bob had always made sure they had a good stock of gingernuts in the pantry. He didn't need any fancy biscuits and used to say a cup of tea without a gingernut was like apple pie without cream. How right he was. Carol wiped an escapee tear away, and shook her head. Pull yourself together girl.
With a violent thud the jug switched her off. Carol fingered the photo in the silver frame on the kitchen sill of a tanned and lined Bob proud as punch holding up a huge snapper that he'd caught in the sounds just last Summer. Just two months before... Now, stop that, don't go upsetting yourself again.
There was a rat-a-tat-tat at the door. Hector woke up with a start and rushed to the door, barking madly. Shhhh Hector. Peanut jumped off her armchair and fled around the corner, her tail fluffed up in annoyance. Carol sucked in her breath and smoothed her skirt. She looked down at her well-loved baby-pink fluffy slippers, sighed, and then decided to leave them on. She sure hoped it wasn't The Stevens. They meant well, but she wasn't up to all that good-neighbourly garbage.
Oh, Billie. Thank goodness. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Dear Billie with her slightly disrevelled blonde bob and her mismatched red skirt and pink jacket. She was her daughter's age but she was like an old soul. Probably because she'd had her own share of woes in her short lifetime. Billie held out a plate of freshly baked muffins.
“I made these for you.”
“Thanks love. Come in. I was just about to...Would you like a cuppa?” asked Carol.
“That would be lovely” smiled Billie.
So Carol went to the pantry and got out another cup. Without looking she grabbed “I Love You Grandad”. She hesitated for a second and then put in a bag of earl grey tea, Billie's tea of choice. She passed it to Billie, avoiding eye contact for a moment. Billie looked at the cup and smiled.
“How are you?” Billie touched her arm lightly. It was hard to not look up then.
Carol cleared her throat and shook her head. “I, um, gosh those muffins look scrumptious – blueberry are they?”
Billie nodded. She understood. She'd lost her husband four years ago and knew that sometimes company was all you wanted – not the words.
And so they sat down in the armchairs that enveloped the occupant like a huge hug, the muffins before them on the formica coffee table, their cups of tea steaming. Seagulls squawked above, cars whizzed by. And the wind rustled softly through the trees outside.
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