Birthday Tea

“Move out of the way, Henrietta!" I tell the tabby cat curling around my leg.  "I don't want to be late. Elizabeth is coming today!"

I pull on my pale lemon yellow tea-length dress and smooth out the wrinkles.  This is my birthday party dress. Today is Elizabeth's birthday and she is coming for tea in barely a few minutes from now. 

My hair is pulled into a very neat little bun at the nape of my neck.  I put on my very stylish hat - well, stylish for the 18th century. It is resplendent with ribbons and ostrich plumes.  Elizabeth and I always wear hats when we have tea together, and this one is her favorite.

Slipping into sandals that match my dress, I check my reflection in the full-length mirror.  Perfect! I look fit to have tea with the queen herself on this very special birthday.

In the kitchen, I hear the tea kettle begin to whistle.  Henrietta follows me there, and I pour the steaming water into the teapot. 

It's a beautiful porcelain teapot with a blue floral design and gold accents, passed down through three generations of Maxwell women.   A matching plate is piled high with finger sandwiches filled with cucumber, smoked salmon, and egg salad with watercress. I don’t particularly care for any of them, but Elizabeth and I determined long ago that these are what one has at a tea party

I place the teapot and the plate on a serving tray, along with the milk pitcher and sugar bowl, and carry them upstairs to the tea room. The walls of what used to be my childhood bedroom still have rows of delicate pink roses on them.  And the child-sized bed, now pushed off to one side, holds a collection of teddy bears in all shapes and sizes. They sit in organized chaos on top of the quilt my Grammy made when I was a child. I’ve tried to not change the room much.

I’ve already set the table - which sits in the middle of the room now - with my finest cloth table covering, my best china plates, my best silverware, and of course the teacups with saucers.

The lilacs in the center of the table make the room smell heavenly.  I can hear tiny birds chirping outside the open window as a light breeze rustles the sheer curtains.  This is the perfect kind of spring day that Elizabeth will love! 

I sense her before I see her.  As I set the tea tray on the table and turn around, a lovely little girl with blond curls and bright blue eyes comes bounding into my arms.

“Ginny!” she cries, her eyes sparkling up at me.  “You’re here!”

“Why wouldn’t I be, my dear Elizabeth?” I ask, hugging her close to me.  She’s exactly as I remember her the last time I saw her. “I’m always here on this day.  Happy Birthday, dear friend!”

“Ooh!  You’ve served tea.  Let’s have some!” Elizabeth cries, clapping her hands together in excited glee.  She moves to take a seat at the table, and so do I.

My knees are up around my chin on these child-sized chairs.  But they are perfect for Elizabeth. And after all, this party is for her.  So I will manage as best I can.

“Will Grammy and Auntie Beatrice be coming today too?” I ask my friend as I spread my napkin in my lap and smooth it as I believe a proper lady would do.

“We’ll have to wait and see if they can get through.  There’s only a small window for arrivals, and we just never know who will make it.”

“Shall we wait for them?” I ask in my most proper voice, lifting an eyebrow.

“Nope.”  Her smile is conspiratorial.    “Let’s have our tea while it’s still warm.  If they come, we’ll pour them some then.”

We giggle behind our hands at our recklessness.  One should always wait until all the guests have arrived before serving tea.  But then, who will tell on us? We giggle some more.

Her little girl giggles are so musical.  My heart blossoms at the sound. Elizabeth could always cheer me up, no matter what was going on in my lonely little life.  How I wish I could hear those giggles every day.

“Oh, Ginny!  I wish you could come live with me.  It’s really pretty there. And it always smells like spring.  It’s sad that we only get to see each other once a year, on my birthday.”

The melancholy I’ve felt often since Elizabeth left nudges at the corners of my consciousness.  I’ve missed her so much. But for her, I’ll put on my best face. No sadness today.

“I know, sweet girl.  But let’s not be sad. Not today.  Let’s just have a splendid tea party in this special room where we’ve shared tea since we were three.”

“Yes, let’s.”  She flips her napkin and spreads it in her lap.  Her smile warms my heart, and I just want to hug my best friend and never let go.  We sip tea all afternoon and talk about nothing in particular. Elizabeth always wants to know of my joys and my sadnesses since last we talked.  That’s the beauty of true friends - no matter how long you’ve been apart you come back together like you haven’t missed a beat. And I am more than happy to share with her.

An overwhelming feeling grips me and says that today is the day that I must ask her about it.

“Elizabeth, what was it like?”  I’m surprised I’ve never asked her this question before today.  We’ve been having tea on her birthday for almost 30 years now. I’ve wanted to ask her.  But it never seemed right. I guess I was never ready to hear her answer. “The accident.  Did it hurt?”

Her clear blue eyes turn thoughtful.  

“No pain.  Just the sound of the crash.  And then only warmth and love, like Mommy’s baking days.  Everyone wanted to hug me. And I felt safe and yummy.”

This makes me smile.  It gives me peace to know that my childhood friend feels safe and loved, even though I often feel so sad and alone without her.  She was so precious to little girl me. And she is still precious to all-grown-up me.

“C’mon, Ginny.  Drink tea.” She lifts her cup and saucer slightly, aimed in my direction.  I pick up my saucer and grab the cup’s handle.    

“Don’t forget to stick out your pinky finger!  We are real fancy ladies today, ‘cause it’s my birthday!”

And all too soon our day must come to an end.

“I have to go,” Elizabeth states, getting up from her chair.  “I’ll see you the next day, my best friend Ginny!”

I stand up and hug her tight.  Oh, Elizabeth. How I wish we could be together again.

With that, she fades through the same wall she had used to enter earlier.