Teacup of The Hearts

A small mahogany table with sturdy legs sat in Lucy’s kitchen. Sitting on the top of it was the perfect setting for a tea party for two. Lucy, a small, petite woman with black hair that could rival the color of darkest night, stood at the stove in her old blue bathrobe with the tear at the sleeve. She couldn’t bear to part with the robe which her beloved husband, Oliver, had given her on their 56th anniversary. That was the last gift he gave her. She wore it every morning while she made her cup of morning tea. This was the part of her day she loved the most. The small house was quiet. Long gone were the noises of the children that Lucy and Oliver raised over their long marriage. Long gone was their pet dog, Bernie, who used to jump up and down each time she smelled the aroma of bacon, begging to have a small piece. All the bedrooms were empty except for the childhood twin beds that Lucy kept in them. Her neighbor, Mrs. Paul had not come over yet as she usually did around noon to gossip about the people in the neighborhood and in between gossip sessions watch her favorite daytime show, General Hospital. 

Lucy loved the morning chill in the air that filled the house before she turned on the heater to heat things up a bit. This morning was perfect though. She didn’t need any extra heat other than the heat of her well worn robe. She cinched the belt a little tighter and turned on the burner under the tea kettle. Her favorite mug was the one her oldest daughter, Ari made for her when she took that one and only art class, it was her “I wanna be an artist” period when she was about 12 years old. The only thing that came from that class was a mug that said, “I love Mom.” Lucy used that mug every morning for her tea. It was always on the shelf next to Oliver’s mug which suited him too, a green frog saying “ribbit.” Oliver loved frogs and the color green. Lucy liked green too but had to draw the line when Oliver wanted to paint their bedroom green. She couldn’t imagine waking up in a bright green room every morning. As a compromise she let him paint his office in the loft green. She would go up there from time to time to enjoy her tea and think of Oliver and all the days and nights he spent up there reading or working on one of his cases. 

Lucy took both mugs off the shelf and she smiled as she set them down on the table and waited for the water to heat in the kettle. Her cat, Siber, came and sat on the chair near the table. Lucy swore that Siber thought  he was human. He would come every morning at the same time, look up at Lucy and jump on the chair, Oliver’s chair, at the table and purr. Lucy smiled at Siber and petted  his fluffy orange and white fur which kept his body warm all throughout the winter. 

The whistle of the kettle filled the air of the kitchen. Lucy walked back to the stove and grabbed the boiling kettle and turned off the burner beneath it. Siber jumped from the chair he was occupying and walked back into the bedroom which he now thinks is his. He jumped on top of the twin bed and sat there looking out of the window as he usually did after he knew that the tea was done, after the whistle blew.  Lucy put two Earl Grey tea bags in the mugs and she poured the piping hot water over the tea bags. She blew the smoke coming from the hot water and tea in the mugs and sat the tea kettle back on the nearby stove. She would read the newspaper while she waited for the tea. She would separate the sections of the paper and place the sports section on the table next to Oliver’s mug. She sat happily reading the headlines and turned to her favorite section, the comics, and laughed aloud. She placed the paper down after a few minutes and stirred the hot tea with the bag still in place seeping in the mug. She had forgotten the sugar. She got up from the table and grabbed the porcelain white flowered sugar bowl which was part of a China set her mother had given her on her wedding day. Lucy cherished that bowl and many times had to place it on the high shelf so that her rambunctious children would not break it as they ran back and forth into the kitchen chasing each other. The sugar bowl was placed on the table in the middle so both Oliver and Lucy could reach it. Lucy took two teaspoons of sugar and Oliver took one. Lucy also took just a small squeeze of lemon in hers. Oliver didn’t understand how she could sweeten her tea with sugar and then sour it with lemon. Lucy didn’t understand it either but that was the way she liked it. Her grandmother had always given her tea that was sweetened with a little sugar and then she would squeeze just a few drops of lemon in the cup. They would pick up their tea cups, pinkies up, and take a sip and laugh and say that was some good tea. Lucy laughed at the thought of her childhood memories of her grandmother. 

Lucy stirred the tea once more and took out the tea bags from both mugs. She knew that Oliver was no longer with her to enjoy the morning tea but she enjoyed having his mug on the table with her. It was like he was having morning tea with her from heaven. She was not ready to give up that tradition. Lucy took the fresh baked blueberry muffins out of the oven and set them on the counter to cool. She loved baking blueberry muffins early in the morning to have with her tea. Oliver preferred cranberry muffins but he would scarf down at least two blueberry muffins with her every morning before he departed to his loft office for the day. Lucy smiled at the thought. 

The muffins cooled and the tea cooled enough for Lucy to take her first sip. She set the muffin on a small saucer which matched the sugar bowl and took a butter knife and cut the muffin in half. Slowly she savored each bite of the muffin until all that remained on her plate were crumbs. She got up from the table and removed the saucer and the now empty mug and placed both into the sink. She moved Oliver's full mug off of the table and poured the tea in the kettle for later. She rinsed out both mugs and set them in the dish rack near the sink. 

Lucy smiled and walked to the room where Siber was. She picked him up in her arms and whispered in his ear, “Siber, morning tea is done until tomorrow.”