Tea and Company

  “Are you OK?” The voice in Daniel’s ear was a slow trickle of honey spilled over rocks, sweet and rough. He dropped his slim brown hands, dotted with drops of bright crimson, into his lap.

The woman beside him, probably old enough to be his grandmother, clutched a beige tote bag between gnarled, leathery fingers. Her swollen legs squeaked against the plastic chair, a dissonant chord in the symphony of the white tiled waiting room— the buzz of the fluorescent lights, beeping monitors, and endless pages for specialists.

“Are you injured, young man? Do you need a nurse?

“It’s not mine, ma’am. EMTs checked me out at the scene. My wife, we were in

an acc—” Daniel’s shoulders shook, and tears flowed down his cheek.

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do right now to help you?”

When Daniel didn’t reply, the elderly woman reached inside her bag for a few items.

A few minutes later, he returned the tiny bottle of hand sanitizer and pocketed the package of tissues. “Thank you for all of that and for keeping me company. I’m Daniel.”

“I’m Pat.” Her grip was surprisingly firm and warm.

Daniel stifled a cough, and his skin erupted in goose bumps, an effect of the cool, germicidal scented air that turned his stomach, a few of the many reasons he hated hospitals.

When his younger brother Richard fell from his motorcycle the night after his high school graduation, Daniel spent a sleepless night, shivering and nauseous, in a chair less comfortable than the one he currently occupied, his worried parents flanking him as they waited for word.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Pat.”

“The pleasure is all mine, though I wish our meeting wasn’t like this. Have you been married long?”

“Five years. We’re having a little girl.” Daniel pushed the ring up past his sore knuckle. “We were on our way back from her appointment, she’s seven months now.”

Pat covered her mouth with a trembling hand. “Do you have any family you can call to wait here with you?”

“My parents are retired and vacationing in Southeast Asia, and my kid brother is backpacking somewhere in South America.” Daniel checked his watch and stared down the corridor. “I’m all alone here. Typical.”

“What do you mean?”

He chuckled and folded his arms across his chest. “It’s just, I was thinking about how my family acted when Rich, my brother, was in an accident. I drove 6 hours, nonstop, when my mother called. Then, our whole family rushed down, and he only had a broken arm.”

“Well, I’m glad he turned out OK.” Pat shifted forward in her chair. “I know you may not believe this, but despite what is happening now, know that everything works out for the best.” Pat fastened her bag and dropped it into the empty seat beside her.

“What?” Daniel’s fingertips clenched his pant leg, and he loosened his hold when he heard a rip in the fabric of his linen slacks.

Pat’s eyes widened, and she pulled back an outstretched hand as if she’d brushed against a hot object. “I don’t mean to upset you, Daniel. It’s just what I know. Even if it’s not our will, all things work for our good.”

Daniel bit his lip and swallowed the coppery bitterness with the words he wanted to spew at Pat, no matter how justified they were. Because how could the permanent injury, or worse, of his wife and unborn daughter ever work out for his or their good?

On second thought, Pat’s sentiments sounded similar to what his mother had told him when he was younger, upset over a bad grade in one of his classes or a rejected application for a post-grad program. With work and everything else, Daniel hadn’t been to a service or read anything devotional in far too long.

“Please forgive me if I offended you.” Pat reached inside her tote again and unearthed a fun sized candy bar, a squishy soft lump. “I know it’s not much, but you look like you could use something sweet now.”

“Does it have nuts? I’m allergic.”

She rolled the wrapper on its side and scanned the label. “I think it’s safe for you, just full of sugar.”

Daniel chuckled. “I gave up sweets when Andie had to change her diet. You know, to encourage her. That “we’re in this together” thing.”

“That’s so supportive.” Pat bit a morsel of chocolate. “My husband would have never.”

“How long were you married?” Daniel shifted to the edge of his chair.

“Too long. Forty years until he passed away. It was hard, but I kept the vow.”

A pair of physicians deep in conversation whisked by, and Daniel eyed his watch again. This time, Pat covered his hand with her own.

“Oh, Daniel. I wish there was something I could say, or do, to bring you some type of comfort right now.”

“What I could really use now is a cup of chai. My mother brought me back some years ago from their many travels somewhere in India, and I love it.”

Pat grinned, her laugh lines reminded him of his mother’s. “There’s a cafe on the corner. How about I go and get us some?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that. I can go down there, and be back before you know it.” She straightened her back and rose slowly. Daniel watched Pat lumber down the hallway, then turned back to wave before she stepped inside the elevator.

A quick check of his phone revealed that the battery was in the red, his charger lost in the wreckage of the car. The truck had come out of nowhere. The impact of the collision spun their coupe and silenced Andie’s piercing scream. Blood seeped from wounds to her head, and he couldn't find a pulse. Beads of sweat mixed with his tears, and the acrid burnt rubber wrinkled Daniel's nose as he watched the painstaking process of extracting Andie, her hand laid across her abdomen as they loaded her up. He walked away with barely a scratch, only the pounding ache in his head, inconsequential compared to the monumental pain in his heart.

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and pictured Andie in their garden, a tall glass of tea with mint in her hand, reclining on her chaise like a goddess in sky blue, perfect and ethereal, the best friend he could have ever asked for.

“Mr. Smith?”

Daniel’s knees gave way when Dr. Berry delivered the news, and she caught him by the elbow before he hit the floor.

Pat appeared, a beverage carrier in one hand, and a paper bag in the other one. “Daniel, I doubt this is as good as your mother’s, but I thought it might he—” She stopped short at the sight of Daniel’s face twisted in grief and shock.

Pat wrapped Daniel in her arms, the tea and pastries forgotten. Later, they prayed together, and Daniel thanked his Heavenly Father for the kindness and comfort of a stranger, now more like a friend.

“Daddy, are you OK?” Bella’s whispery voice and grip of her tiny fingers grounded Daniel in solace and tenderness.

“I’m fine, Baby. Just thinking about the day you were born, when I met my friend.” He scooped her up and smoothed the ruffles of her pale pink dress, having vowed to carry his only child for as long as he was physically possible. The cool breeze brushed his forehead, and the sharp tang of freshly mowed grass filled his senses. Daniel felt grateful for the onset of another Spring.

Bella laid the bouquet of lilies in the vase nestled among the bright blooms that beautified this garden of stone. She handed the second set of flowers, orange poppies, to her father, for the other resting spot they planned to visit.

“Hey, Dan.” Richard laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You ready?”

“Yeah, man.” Daniel made the sign of the cross. “Rest well, Pat. Thank you for everything.”

“She was so nice, she gave me chocolates! I'll miss Ms. Pat, too.” Bella swiped a thumb across his cheek. “But, don’t cry, Daddy. Mommy will keep her company.”

Daniel looked at his gorgeous, precocious five year old daughter, the spitting image of her mother. “Yeah, I guess maybe she will.”