6

I turned and saw the Bird Woman peering into Lily. I couldn’t get to her at the moment, which was probably fortunate. My way was blocked by the stretcher which now bore Mrs. Garcia’s body, tactfully covered with a blanket. The paramedics eased it out of the parlor and I hurried past them to open the front door. I had half-expected more disruption than they’d actually caused, and was beginning to hope that my patrons would be able to enjoy their tea after all.

But what if it was the sandwiches?

No, it couldn’t be. Our food was completely fresh and of the highest possible quality. I’d watched Julio making the sandwiches myself.

I'd also eaten some of the scraps.

Brushing aside doubt, I saw Kris returning with the tea tray for Jonquil and followed her. The Bird Woman and her friends were standing at the window, watching the paramedics take Mrs. Garcia away.

“Wouldja look at that!” said the Bird Woman to her friends. “Last time somebody croaked here I didn’t get to see it!”

“Your food is here, ladies,” I said brightly.

“Just put it on the table, honey,” the Bird Woman told Kris. “We’ll get to it in a minute.”

“Shall I explain the menu?” Kris asked, glancing doubtfully at me.

“Nah, I know what it is,” said the Bird Woman, standing on tiptoe to peer over one of the crosspieces of the window. “Already had it once this week.”

Kris and I withdrew, knowing when to accept defeat. I returned to Lily, where I found Tony picking up the bits of plastic wrapping the paramedics had left behind.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, reaching for them.

“Figured you’ll probably be needing this space.” He glanced at his collection of evidence bags and containers. “Um, do you have a bag or a box I could put these in?”

“Of course.”

I took away the trash and returned with a wisteria-colored shopping bag from the gift shop. Tony gazed at it briefly, then shrugged and started loading his evidence into it.

“I’ll get the china and silver back eventually, I hope,” I said.

“Yeah, you will. Probably sooner than later. Hey, don’t worry. This is just a precaution.”

He glanced toward the window as a police squad pulled up outside. The ambulance was already gone. I hadn’t noticed its departure.

Tony picked up the shopping bag, then looked at me. “You OK?”

I nodded. “Yes. Thank you for stopping by.”

“You know, anyplace where a lot of older people come this is going to happen. The casinos get one or two a month, seems like.”

I smiled. He’d meant it to be comforting, but I found the thought of coping with dead customers on a regular basis to be rather distressing.

He was still gazing at me, dark eyes intent. “Should I call you, later?”

My heart gave a little jump. I nodded. “Please do, especially if you hear any news.”

“OK.”

We went out to the hall, passing Kris who was showing a newly-arrived party to their seating. Tony paused by the front door, giving me another long look. Finally he smiled and squeezed my upper arm, then went out.

I stood in the open doorway, watching him stride down the path to meet the policeman at the squad car. My arm tingled slightly where he had touched it, and I absently rubbed it.

Why, I wondered, was I so strongly attracted to him? He wasn’t at all the sort of person I ordinarily spent time with.

He liked motorcycles and rock music. I liked china and lace and Mozart. I spent my days creating a delightful place for people enjoy a quiet cup of tea, while he devoted his to resolving some of humanity’s uglier problems. He did clean up quite nicely, though, when he cared to make the effort.

I watched him get on his bike and leave, followed by the squad car. A moment later a sedan parked at the curb and three ladies got out.

More customers. Time to get back to work. I closed the door and glanced into the front parlor, then into the gift shop where I found Kris looking over the reservations list.

“Kris, can you hold the fort a little longer? I need to go talk to Julio and Rosa.”

“Sure.” She gave me a somewhat doleful look. “Give Rosa a hug for me.”

I nodded. Bracing myself, I walked back to the kitchen.

Julio was taping a note to the door of the oven. The kitchen was clean; he'd shut down for the day. He looked up as I came in.

“The last batch of scones is in the butler's pantry.”

I nodded. “Julio, I have some bad news.”

He straightened, turned, and stared at me. “Abuela?”

I nodded.

“That's what the sirens were.”

“Yes.”

“Is she dead?”

I swallowed the sudden tightness in my throat, and nodded.

He stood very still, blinking. I found my voice.

“I'm so sorry, Julio. They said it might be a stroke.”

He nodded.

“You don't have to come in tomorrow.”

“Yes I do. You need me.”

“We can manage, if...”

“I'll be here.”

He went into action suddenly, grabbing his music player, his thermos, jacket. I watched him head for the back door like he needed to escape.

“I'll be here,” he said again over his shoulder. The screen door banged behind him.

I took a deep breath, then went upstairs and found Rosa in the hall, sitting by the front window where I had placed a couple of chairs overlooking the garden. She stood up as I approached.

“I heard the sirens...”

“Rosa, I’m so sorry.”

“She’s dead, isn’t she?”

I nodded. Rosa nodded, too, and raised my handkerchief—which was quite soggy by now—to her eyes. She dabbed at her face, then broke into fresh sobs. I gathered her into my arms and let her cry.

“Take the rest of today off, and tomorrow, too,” I told her when the bout of tears had subsided. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

“N-no, I can manage.”

“Would you like me to call your father and let him know?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” I said, though it wasn’t a call I looked forward to making. “Go on home, then. Take care of yourself.”

“Thank you, Ms. R.”

I walked downstairs with her and saw her off. Kris was straightening Lily, and together we returned the pedestal with the flower urn to its normal place. I walked into the alcove and stood looking around.

All trace of the tragedy was gone. Fresh place settings already gleamed on the table, awaiting the next customers. The fragrance of the peace roses hung in the air.

On impulse I stepped to the window and opened it a little, letting in a warm breeze, letting out the spirit of the departed, if indeed she was still here. I didn’t remember where I had heard of that, but it seemed to make sense at the moment.

I said a silent prayer for poor Mrs. Garcia, and for Julio and Rosa and all their family. A sad day for them.

For me, the day was still full of obligations. I closed the doors to Lily and went out to meet them.

First order of business was the call to Rosa’s father. I went up to my office for that, and fortified myself with a cup of tea before calling El Vaquero. I spent a couple of minutes on hold until Mr. Garcia came to the phone.

“This is Rick.”

His voice sounded brusque, the voice of a restaurant manager whose hands were full. I wasted no time, getting straight to the point of my call.

“Mr. Garcia, it’s Ellen Rosings, from the Wisteria Tearoom. I’m afraid I have bad news for you. Mrs. Garcia took ill during her visit here this morning.”

“Mama’s sick?”

“I called emergency, but the paramedics weren’t able to help her. I’m afraid she died. I’m terribly sorry.”

“Died?” He sounded stunned.

“Yes. The paramedics said it might have been a stroke. They left a number for you to call.”

I read it to him and offered to help in any way I could. The silence on the line was heartbreaking. I knew I had ruined his day.

“I sent Rosa home,” I told him. “She can take as much time off as she needs.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Garcia.”

“Thanks. Thanks for calling.”

His voice sounded broken as he said goodbye and hung up. I put down the phone and finished my tea, wishing I could have offered more comfort, but of course, nothing could change the awfulness of losing a parent, as I knew all too well.

I went back downstairs, and remained there the rest of the day. With Rosa gone I was shorthanded, and it being a Friday, we were booked solid until closing time at six. Kris stayed late to help, bless her. By the time the last customers left with their take-away boxes in hand, I was exhausted.

Kris came downstairs, carrying her black shoulder bag and a small shipping box. I looked up from locking the front door.

“Is that the samples from Empire?”

Kris glanced at the box and shifted it, tucking it more tightly under her arm. “No, it’s something I ordered for myself. You said it was OK to have things sent here.”

“Of course.” I smiled. “Thanks for staying, Kris. You were a huge help today.”

She smiled back. “No problem. Do you need me tomorrow?”

“Yes, if you don't mind. I told Rosa to stay home.”

As she turned away I started for the gift shop to cash out the day’s receipts from the register. The sound of a heavy tread on the front portal stopped me. Someone tried the front door, then a moment later pounded on it.

The front door is solid oak, surrounded on the top and sides by the small, single-paned windows called lights that one finds in older houses. I opened it to Tony Aragón, his jacket slung over one shoulder. His black t-shirt had a bosun neckline that showed a nice glimpse of his shoulders.

He smiled and gave an upward jerk of his head. “Hi. I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d just stop by instead of calling.”

“Come in.”

I opened the door wider and he stepped inside. Kris had wandered back, but now she turned away again.

“What’s in the box?” Tony said.

Kris paused and glanced back at him. “Just something I ordered.”

“Can I see?”

She turned and faced him square on, holding the box protectively. “Not unless you have a warrant.”