“Hello, dear.” I whirled around and covered my mouth with my hands to keep from screaming. Bea smiled at me and held up a tea kettle. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought you might like some.”
I lowered my hands and let out a laugh. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here. I was just, I had to, you know, go for a walk.” I was talking fast, nervous and awkward, but I couldn’t help it.
“Come here,” she said, and it wasn’t a command, but an invitation. I hesitated, then walked over. “Take some tea with me while the boys talk. I bet you had to escape all that cigar smoke.” She poured the kettle into a mug and rich brown liquid spilled from the bag floating inside. She poured a second and slid it to me. “I told his father, and I’ll tell him until the day I’m dead, smoking indoors is the worst thing you can do for a house.”
“He doesn’t seem like the type to care about that,” I said with a smile and raised the tea to my lips.
Bea held up a hand. “Wait one moment,” she said. “Let it steep.”
I placed it back down. I couldn’t remember the last time I had tea. Coffee, sure, I was addicted to coffee. Which was a bad thing, considering my living situation wasn’t exactly conducive to making a consistent cup, but still, I managed. Even the homeless found ways to brew the stuff.
“How long have you worked here?” I asked, just to make conversation.
“Oh, years now,” she said. “As long as Dean’s been alive. Don Valentino, I mean. I remember when he was a little boy, so it’s hard for me to call him Don.”
“I bet it is,” I said. “You probably changed his diapers.”
“More than his father ever did,” she said and laughed. She put me at ease with her calm and gentle mannerisms, and I felt my shoulders relaxing slightly, like I’d been carrying a weight on them and was only just beginning to put it down. “You’ll have to forgive some of his rough edges. His childhood wasn’t happy.”
“I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like,” I said, looking around. “Nice house though.”
“Nice houses can hide bad things,” Bea said with a sigh. “At any rate, he keeps on smoking, and I keep on complaining. It’s a vicious cycle.”
“Who do you think will win that one?”
“He will, dear,” she said, and took her tea bag out. “Go ahead, you’re all set now.”
I took a sip. It was hot, but it was rich and delicious. I’d had tea, but nothing like this before. “Thank you,” I said. “I really needed this.”
“Don’t mention it.” She touched my arm. “If you ever need some time away from the boys, feel free to come out here. Dean’s barely ever around and the house is quiet most of the time. We’ve got a pool and lots of space to walk around.”
“Thank you,” I said, grinning like an idiot trying to imagine myself out in the suburbs lying in the grass or whatever normal people did with lawns. “But I’m more of a city kid, you know?”
“Oh, I know, I can tell.” She laughed almost to herself as she put together another tray with more tea. “You’ve got that edge all those girls do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, head tilted as I took another long sip. I felt warmer and calmer than I had in a long, long time.
“Girls that’ve had a rough time of it look around like the next problem’s about to come out from behind the closet door,” Bea said, gesturing around her. “It’s a wildness, really. A fear response. Not that I can blame you, and I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I can guess.” She finished setting up her tray and smiled at me. “I mean it, dear. If you ever want to escape, come out here. I’d be happy to have you.” Then she left me alone in the kitchen, completely bewildered.
I knew what she meant about that wildness. I’d seen it in other street people, noticed it especially when I first started living rough. It was this look like something bad was about to happen, like they were prey and the predators were just over the next hill.
I stopped noticing it after a while.
Maybe because I started looking around exactly like that.
The thought wasn’t exactly comforting. When I lived with my parents, I was miserable and felt like if I didn’t get out of there soon, then I’d end up dead.
But maybe living on the streets messed me up more than I even realized. It was like I couldn’t remember how to be a normal person anymore.
At least drinking tea came naturally. I sat alone in that large, empty kitchen, and finished the mug until there was only the bag resting against the bottom.