(advent) December 15

Monday, December 15

Molly looked out at the tea room, checking to see who might need more tea or treats. Her little cafe was fuller than normal, since Goldie was sitting at the table next to Schrodinger’s cat bed, a set of gold reading glasses perched on his nose, a large book in his hands. She couldn’t tell if he was actually reading or watching the door. Knowing the pirate, probably both.

It was odd to know he was there to keep her safe. Molly still couldn’t believe that Caliban would actually harm her, would use her to get at the Snow Queen. But given the last two days, she couldn’t deny that he might.

Shaking her head, she went back into the kitchen, filled a thermal carafe with hot water, stuck some random tea bags in her sweater pocket, and then went out into the store. She stopped by Stephen and Lucille’s table first, refilling their cups and admiring the sweater Lucille was making for her artist son Robert, who lived outside the Cove but always came up for Christmas.

“He’s bringing up the new projects he’s working on,” Lucille told her, beaming. “I can’t wait to see what he’s come up with now!”

“He’s still doing the beaded brooches, right?” Molly asked, and the older woman nodded.

“He’s branching out, though,” she said. “Doing some really interesting things with calligraphy.” She leaned forward and said conspiratorially, “There’s a rumor that he’s going to have a big show in the spring. In New York!”

“That’s awesome! I hope it’s true!” Molly smiled down and then went over to where a couple of tourists were sitting enjoying some of her gingerbread scones and tea. They asked for a pot of her apple cinnamon tea, so she went back into the kitchen. Molly, Drew and Schrodinger loved hitting the flea markets and yard sales in the summer, looking for tea pots, cups and saucers to stock the tea shop, so she had an ever-changing supply. She considered what she had on the shelves in her pantry currently, then pulled down a lovely green teapot with holly berries on it.

Leaving the full teapot with the tourists, along with a timer so they could take out the tea balls in time, Molly went over to Goldie. As she neared, she realized that not only was he actually reading, but he was reading Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” out loud to Schrodinger.

“I didn’t realize you were a Dickens fan,” she said, when he stopped for breath. She held up the carafe suggestively. “More tea?”

“Yes, please.” The pirate looked up at her over his glasses as she filled his mug (he’d asked for larger than the normal tea cup, and Molly had been happy to oblige). “And do you know people who aren’t Dickens fans? Really?”

“Really,” Molly told him, laughing. “He’s not for everyone.”

“Well, maybe not Bleak House or David Copperfield,” Goldie allowed. “But I have yet to meet anyone who does not like A Christmas Carol.”

I’m enjoying it, Schrodinger said, raising his head. He’d actually slept about half the night last night, since Jack and Pavel had been as good as their word and sent guards to the farmhouse. Even still, he hadn’t been able to sleep all the way through, and Molly knew he’d done several rounds of the farmhouse. Still, he didn’t look as tired as he had yesterday, which made her feel better.

“Well, you liked the movie, so I’m not surprised,” Molly said.

“Well, that depends on which movie,” Goldie amended, and there was a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Which movie did you see?”

You mean there’s more than just the Muppets Christmas Carol? Schrodinger said, mock astonishment coloring his mental voice. Really?

Molly and Goldie laughed. “Well, yes, there are, but that’s my favorite too,” the pirate admitted. He looked up at Molly. “You know, I think I’ll tell the captain that I’d rather be here than the ship. You have better food.”

Molly laughed again. “You know you’re welcome any time, Goldie, but don’t you think your reputation as a terrible pirate will suffer if you keep hanging around a tea shop?”

“Of course not,” Goldie said. “Everyone knows tea is far more hardcore than grog.” He winked at her. “Besides, the clientele is more gentile here.”

She couldn’t argue with that, so Molly went on her way, refilling tea cups and taking orders for scones, sandwiches and cookies. There were two other pirates lounging throughout the store, and Molly, rather than feeling smothered, felt amazed that they would give up a day off to keep her safe. This was friendship, she knew.

When she finally got back to the kitchen, Jack was waiting for her, a large bag on the island. “I wasn’t sure you were going to be around today,” Molly said, putting the carafe away and picking up her own mug. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please,” Jack said. He indicated the bag. “I’ve brought you a gift, and unlike Caliban’s, it has no strings attached. It’s a thank you, for putting up with me and helping me when you didn’t have to.”

“You didn’t have to do that!” Molly said, blushing. She went for another mug and two of her special Christmas tea bags. Jack had earned the right to have some, she decided.

“I know,” he said, smiling at her response. “But I wanted to.”

Once the tea water was poured, she opened the bag eagerly. Inside were apples, but apples unlike any she’d ever seen: a deep, deep red outside, and when she cut one open, the flesh was golden and the juice that dripped down was sweetly spicy. “These are amazing!” Molly said, looking up at Jack. “Where did they come from?”

“They come from a special tree from my realm,” he told her. “They don’t really have a name – the seed was given to me by a people who no longer exist, when they knew their world was dying. They wanted to make sure it would continue somewhere.” His smile dimmed a bit. “It’s not as much as I could have done, I know now, but at least it’s something.”

Molly laid a hand on his arm. “You can’t save everyone,” she said quietly. “Thank you for this. I know just what to do with them.”

She pulled out her peeler and went to work. Within an hour, she’d reduced the bag to golden slices, soaking in a bit of lemon juice and water. While Jack watched and chatted with her, Molly pulled pastry dough from her freezer and thawed it, then rolled it out and cut it into squares. The apples went into the squares, and she frowned.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Try this,” she said, dusting a bit of cinnamon on top of one of the apple slices and handing it to him. “What do you think?”

He chewed thoughtfully. “It’s good,” he said finally. “Spicy, but not too spicy.”

“Good.” She dusted the squares with the cinnamon, and folded over each square, pinching the edges together with a fork. Then, as the turnovers baked in the oven, Molly sat down and warmed up her tea.

“Tell me about your realm,” she said, and Jack looked surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been to the Snow Queen’s realm,” Molly said. “But you’re a fall spirit. What is your realm like?”

He looked over her shoulder, into the distance. “Well, it’s wild,” he started. “The days are warm, but there’s that little nip in the air, and it snows occasionally. At night, the stars twinkle in the sky. The leaves are all colors, and it smells like apples and wood fires.”

“Do you have a castle, like Jade?”

“No.” Jack laughed. “I’m a bachelor, remember? With not a lot of friends. I have a little log cabin, actually. It’s enough for me to sleep in, and that’s about it.”

“You’ll have to add a kitchen now,” Molly teased him gently. “Imagine, a fall spirit, with all those harvest treats, who doesn’t eat!”

“Well, I do now,” he said, chuckling. “Will you come and teach me some more?”

“Absolutely,” Molly said. “I’ll even help you design the kitchen.”

Jack sniffed the air. “As long as you teach me to make these and pizza, I think I’m good.”

“Spoken like a true guy,” Molly said, laughing as she got up to pull the turnovers out of the oven. She dusted them with cinnamon sugar, and then handed him one.

Jack’s expression was one of pure bliss as he chewed the first bite. “If I promise to keep giving you these apples, will you keep sending me these?”

“Deal,” Molly said, pleased. Then she paused. “Jack, can I ask you something?”

“If you refill my tea and let me have another turnover, you can ask anything you want.”

“Such a guy,” Molly said, shaking her head, but she put another turnover in front of him and refilled his mug.

“Ask away,” Jack said.

“If Jade does accept you as her consort, will you leave your realm? Or will she?”

Jack chuckled. “Neither, and both.” When she blinked at him, confused, he said, “We’ll share, and set up some personal Gates. So we will each have our own space.”

“Then you’ll definitely need to change your cabin,” Molly told him. “Jade likes to cook.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

She watched Jack eat, marveling at the changes in him. The man who had come to ask for her help two short weeks before was gone, replaced by a friend. Something she wouldn’t have expected.

Suddenly, she thought about Jade. Old Man Winter had said she was still in seclusion, and that she wouldn’t come out for anyone. Molly looked at the turnovers, and realized that it was time to start softening another heart.

Originally published at The words of Valerie Griswold-Ford. You can comment here or there.