Tea Time

Babs sat in her favorite rocker on the back porch of the old house, drinking sweet tea. Her grandson had just rebuilt the deck and it didn’t creek as loudly as the old porch. She closed her eyes and smiled, remembering the sound.

Babs and Tom had all kinds of plans for updating the house when Mama had passed it on to her after they’d gotten married. But between raising two very active twins and working full time jobs, she and Tom had found little time to even think about new cabinets or open concept kitchens and such. They could barely keep up with the general maintenance. Her son Tommy, Jr. had other things on his mind when he had moved in with his own three boys after his wife Cathy had passed away from cancer. Finally, his youngest son, Lloyd was moving his family into the old place, so he and his crew had taken on the task. They were completing the work in record time. Of course, it helped that he was general contractor and Margo was an interior designer.

Margo came out to check on her. “How’s the tea, Grandma?”

“It’s exactly what the doctor ordered for this heat.” She took a sip as if proving her point. “Hiding from the work, kids or both?”

“Both.” Margo leaned on the porch railing with a sigh. “The kids are finally unpacking in their rooms and the guys are taking a break on the front porch.”

“Tea time.” Babs laughed remembering something her daddy used to say. Margo turned and looked at her quizzically.

“Well, I’m going back inside to unpack some more and check on the kids,” she paused at the door and said, “I think the crew is done for the day, so it should be quiet enough for you to take a nap, Grandma” before disappearing.

The second floor had been completed before the family moved in and the first floor was coming along nicely. The only exception to all the renovations was the guestroom on the first floor, where Babs now slept because she’d grown too old to climb the staircase. Their next destination was the backyard.

Babs was grateful the yard was too small to install a pool. She hoped they’d be able to restore the grass and replant the butterfly garden her parents had been so proud of. It had been a long time since the yard was green. Babs could almost feel the cool grass between her toes as she reminisced about her childhood running barefoot playing with her dog, Jessie. She especially hoped Lloyd would be able to restore the old treehouse. Its remnants had resisted the passage of time and weather. It would be a pity to tear it down.

She could still hear the leaves rustling as the hammer blows shook the tree while Daddy nailed the climbing steps up to the little house. Every once in a while, a few leaves would fall and Jessie would try to catch them in midair, barking whenever he missed one. Since then the steps had been replaced several times, but now after years of disrepair they were missing altogether.

Babs got up and slowly approached the tree she’d played in for hours during her childhood. The tree seemed so much smaller than it had all those years ago. She remembered all the times she’d pretended her yard was a wondrous kingdom she ruled, or a vast sea she sailed in search of treasure. Even though Jessie couldn’t climb the steps, he was always part of her imaginary games. He was buried at the foot of the tree when he’d died of old age shortly after her twins were born. Junior and Patricia had become the new rulers of her treehouse and played their own games.   

Lloyd’s children, Jake and Olivia had leaned a metal folding ladder on the tree with the intention of inspecting the little treehouse earlier this week, but they'd been called back into the house for lunch before they could and the ladder had remained there, forgotten. Babs decided the ladder was safe enough to climb. She was sure her family would disagree, but she slowly climbed anyway. When she reached the top of the ladder she stepped onto the landing which protested loudly under the strain of her weight. She slowly peered into the treehouse. It was clear no one had been inside since the last time she’d played with the twins.

There among the dust and leaves that now inhabited the tiny house was a small table surrounded by long forgotten blankets and stuffed animals. On the table was a set of tiny tea cups. She smiled as she was transported to the first time she’d sat at the table one summer afternoon a lot like this one. She could hear her dad’s car pull up the driveway as he arrived from work.

Her dad knocked on the side of the door “Bibi? Can I come in?”

“Of course, Daddy.” She was placing all of her stuffed animals around the table, preparing for a meeting of some kind.

“I’ve got a housewarming gift for you,” he said as he presented her with a box.

She giggled excitedly as she opened the box to find a tiny tea set inside. The little plastic cups and saucers were the perfect size for the tiny table. She placed a cup for each stuffed animal and one for her dad on the table. With a flourish and what she thought was an English accent she asked, “Would you like some tea, sir?”

“I would love some tea,” responded her father with bow of his head and a similar accent, as he sat at the tiny table.

Every day after, at around the same time she would make sure the table was set because whether he had just arrived from work or he was taking a break from chores around the house, her daddy would join her in the treehouse for Tea Time. Every day, that is until the day he didn’t come home.

She had waited for him as always until she’d heard the front doorbell, followed by her mother’s awful wailing. She jumped down from the treehouse completely by-passing the steps and ran into the house to find two policemen trying to comfort her mother. Between sobs, Mama turned to her and said, “Daddy’s been in a car accident, Babs.” That was all she could say before collapsing onto the floor.

After all these years, the memory of that day was still painful. It wasn’t until Patricia was old enough to climb the steps up to the treehouse that Tea Time had been reinstated. Once her children how outgrown the tea set, neither of them had daughters to pass on the tradition.

As she looked around the tiny house with its abandoned residents, she heard Olivia and Jake arguing over who would climb the ladder first. She smiled when she heard the familiar “Rock, paper, scissors” and moved as far from the doorway as her old bones would let her. Slowly, she decided to sit on the floor next to the table. Apparently, Olivia had won.

“Grandma, what are you doing in here?” the little girl asked once she’d climbed the ladder.

In response, Babs simply asked in her best English accent, “Would you like some tea?”.