Sunday again. The house is quiet, the dogs are outside. My prayer, let it stay quiet. Last week I posted a little story I put together about my trees out front. I had a couple of comments from my nieces. So I went through some of my older stories. This one I wrote about three years ago. I know a blog is not the right place to try and run my stories through. But I just thought maybe the girls would like this one too. So here goes. I promise from now on I will keep my stories to myself.
MEET ME AT FOUR FOR TEA.
Miss Hattie looked in the mirror at the face that stared back at her. She squinted her eyes a little, trying to get a clearer view. What she saw was the face of an eighty-two year old woman. A face that was lined from years of life's up and downs. A still bright pair of brown eyes twinkled back at her. Wispy gray curls surrounded her face. She sighed a little. Should she put on a little more lipstick? She frowned; she didn't want to look like some old hussy. She laughed out loud at that thought. Maybe that's how she should end her life, just being an old hussy. She chuckled out loud at just the thought of such an idea. She leaned forward again, closer to the mirror. Maybe she should wear a hat. Ladies didn't wear hats much these days, not like they did back when she was younger. She patted her hair but a hat might cover up the fact her hair was rather thin these days. She stared a minute longer. "Yes," she aid out loud. "I will wear a hat." She hurried to her closet and took down a faded old hat box. Carefully she took out two hats that were stacked one on top of the other. The first one was a brown felt with a perky feather that was stuck in the band. Miss Hattie smiled at the sight; it had been one of her work hats. She had worked at the library over fifty years and back in the forties and fifties she always wore a hat to work. The remembrance of how she would take it off as she started to work, placing it carefully on the table behind her desk. Then putting it back on when she would start home at the end of the day. Oh she had many hats over he years but this one had been special at least she had thought so. The other hat was a thin crown of black with a wisp of a black veil that could be pulled down over her eyes. This one had been her one of her dress up hats, one for very special occasions.
She smiled at the remembrance of the night she had worn it to dinner with Carl Edwards. They had eaten at a wonderful place that had candles on the table and had drank wine. They also had danced to music furnished by a piano player that kept a glass of amber liquid close to his hands. It had been the most romantic night of her life. She had thought maybe Carl would be the one, the magical one that would turn her solitary evenings into a real life with a husband and family. But it didn't work out that way but she still smiled at the memory of that special evening when she had wore this wonderful hat. And had felt like a man had loved her.
She put the small creation on her head and pulled the veil down over her eyes. She looked at her image in the mirror. "Yes," she said to the empty room. I will wear this hat for my tea at four o'clock. She shivered with pleasure at the thought that soon she would be meeting someone special for tea. It had been a long time since she had went out for afternoon tea, a very long time. Days had become long and lonely for Miss Hattie these last few years. She had never married, so there were no children or grandchildren to brighten her long days and nights. Her sister had passed away a few years ago. She did have two nieces but they both lived many miles away from her. She had outlived many of her friends too, so her life was filled mostly with days spent at her front window watching the traffic go by and having her old yellow tabby in her lap.
But life had taken a sudden change a few days ago. She had seen a small ad in the classifieds. It was getting harder for her to read the paper but she still sat in her chair at the front window, with a magnifier reading all the latest news. Miss Hattie had a television one of her nieces had bought her but she didn't care for it really. The written word had been her life, books, books, and books. But it was getting much harder to read these days since these pesky eyes of hers just didn't want to cooperate with her. In the back of the paper she had read a small ad that stated, older gentleman in his eighties looking for a gentlewoman to meet for tea. Please call 623-0395. Miss Hattie's heart had given a little leap at the words as she read them. What a wonderful idea she thought, having an afternoon tea and with a gentleman too. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure at the thought. With trembling hands she called the number. The voice that answered was slightly shaky but still strong and deep. Yes he told her, he was the gentleman that had placed the ad. He would like very much to have an occasional afternoon tea with someone. So they had agreed to meet today at four for tea at Mary's Tearoom on west fourth. Miss Hattie had been there a few times over the years, a very nice place but it was not so enjoyable going alone. Today though she would not be alone for she was having tea with a gentleman friend.
So at three Miss Hattie left her house walking to the bus stop looking oh so elegant in her black suit and wispy black hat perched on her head, Of course she had to wear her white tennis shoes as she fell too easily to wear any sort of shoes with a heel these days. But Miss Hattie did not care, she didn't even think the strange looks of passer bys meant they thought she looked odd. She thought she must look oh so nice to have people stare at her this way. Oh she hoped Mr. Leonard Wright thought so too. Her heart beat so fast; this was so very exciting to her.
Miss Hattie left he bus stop and walked carefully the three blocks to the tearoom. She was getting a little nervous. He had told her on the phone he would wear a black suit and have a rose in the lapel so she would know him. "Oh dear," she thought. "What if he doesn't come? She arrived at the tearoom and entered the front door. She looked around squinting her eyes trying to adjust to the light inside. There were not many there, just a few scattered at tables around the cozy room. All of a sudden her eyes fell on a man sitting alone at a table. He wore a black jacket with a red rose in the lapel. His hair was a mat of soft gray ringlets. And his skin was dark, very dark. Miss Hattie gave a little gasp. Mr. Leonard Wright was a black gentleman. Her heart pounded. This was 2008 a whole different era then when she was growing up and living her life. But this was still the south and she was still a product of her era. Disappointment filled her. She had so looked forward to this tea and meeting Mr. Wright. She leaned a little forward, trying to see him better. He hadn't noticed her yet. He was looking at a paper he held in his hands and sipping tea from a rose-colored teacup. She gave a little gasp. There was a long stemmed yellow rose lying beside the empty teacup across from him. She shuddered with pleasure, why it must be for her. She involuntary began to take small steps towards the table even though her mind kept telling her the proper thing to do was to leave. But all she could see was the yellow rose and this handsome gentleman sipping tea.
His eyes rose to meet her face, he smiled. A real true genuine smile that lit his whole face up. If he was surprised at her pale skin he gave no inkling in any way. He rose to his feet, his hand out stretched. "Miss Hattie I presume," he said. His voice enveloped her with its warmth. "I am so very glad you came." He laughed softly, "I was afraid you would change your mind. I know a lady has the right to change her mind but I am so glad you didn't." He helped her into her chair. Sitting back down he pointed to the rose. "This Miss Hattie is for you."
She blushed with pure pleasure. She didn't see his dark skin, she saw the light in his eyes, and she saw the hand of friendship he had extended to her. She said very softly, "Why Mr. Wright I would not have missed this for the world."
He offered her tea from the dainty pot. She accepted. To on lookers they may have seemed sort of an odd pair. This older black gentleman who wore a black suit and a red rose in his lapel and white tennis shoes. And the pale old lady in a black suit too and a silly little hat perched on her head and she also wore white tennis shoes. But everyone would have agreed there seemed to be almost amagical air about the two as they sipped their tea and told each other of their life's. Lived so differently but yet ending up so much alike, alone. They laughed, they sparkled, two friends finding each other at last.
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