“Next time you must stay for tea, and we’ll sit on a rock and sing a song to the moon...”
~P. L. Travers
Flora, put the book down and get your hands in the flour.”
“But Nonna, I’m at the best part,” the little girl, who sat at the kitchen table, argued.
“Do not ‘But Nonna’ me, piccolo ragazza. You could, how do you say it? Recite that book of yours word by word.”
“Let me finish this one part. It’s--.”
“I know, your favorite part. One more sentence, and then you knead the dough. My old hands cannot toss it around like I used to.”
“Okay, Nonna,” Flora sighed and hurriedly finished the one sentence. She reluctantly left the book on the table and walked over to the countertop. Her grandmother stepped aside to allow Flora the honor of pushing and pulling until she created the familiar lump that would soon become Nonna’s homemade pasta.
“...so, she was quick to pack up and jump across the pond, as they say,” Reveena explained.
Flora realized she had let her thoughts go back to another kitchen table in her mind while Reveena caught her guests up on her sister.
“How long will she be staying?” Cordelia asked.
“Oh, there’s nothing in writing yet. I’m sure she’ll figure it out along the way,” Reveena replied.
“She’ll stay ‘til the winds change,” Flora whispered to Meeka, who chose that moment to jump onto the woman’s lap.
“What was that, dear?” Reveena asked from across the table.
“Oh, nothing. Just reminded me of a book I know,” Flora deflected as she stroked the soft fluff on Meeka’s back.
“My ears were burning! Were you talking about me?” came a raspy voice from the hallway.
Flora turned to see the mystery guest walk into the kitchen, her colorful caftan flowing behind her. She was everything that Flora was not, she thought to herself. Where Flora tried to blend in with the wallpaper during any public outing, Reveena’s sister made a wonderfully grand entrance over every threshold she crossed.
“My goodness, you caught us, didn’t you?” Reveena chuckled, got up, and walked around the table to pull out the vacant chair. “Ladies, this lovely creature is my darling sister, Raina. She just flew in from across the pond, of course. Raina, dear, these are the girls.”
Raina sat down on the wooden chair with a contented sigh; her caftan billowed around her like a magician’s cape. Reveena shuffled back to her chair across the table.
“How was your flight, Raina?” Cordelia asked while pouring her a cup of tea.
“Thankfully, the storms held off, so turbulence was not as bad as I had feared,” Raina replied.
“Oh, that’s a relief! I, myself, hate turbulence. All those bumps and drops.” Reveena pointed out.
“I know! And it does such a number on my hair!” Raina cackled into her cup.
Three ladies chuckled while the fourth one nervously giggled, wondering just what type of tea party she was in for that night.
“Lovey, I hear you had quite the grandmother.” Raina looked over at Flora.
“Oh, um, why, yes.” Flora stammered, once again unsure why the spotlight of attention found its way to her.
Reveena glanced over at her sister. “Well, ladies, Raina does not beat around any bushes. I suppose we’ll get to the point of our little meeting now, shall we?”
Cordelia nodded in agreement, but poor Flora stared at the tablecloth in front of her. Oh, what did she get herself into now? This is what happens when you leave the house, she thought to herself.
Raina savored a long sip of her tea, placed the delicate cup back onto its saucer, and took a deep breath. Reveena and Cordelia watched and waited. Flora continued to count the cross stitches in the suddenly fascinating pattern of the cloth in front of her.
“My dear sister has kept me abreast of the comings and goings of this delicious little town, and there are some things that require our attention while I’m here,” Raina announced as she tilted her head towards Reveena and Cordelia. She kept her eyes focused on Flora. “There is work to be done.”
Flora lifted her eyes from the mesmerizing pattern to meet Raina’s gaze. She felt two more sets of eyes upon her. “Where do I come into all of this, then?” she finally asked the trio.
Just like that, the room’s mood shifted, and the breeze outside the kitchen window picked up. The moon overhead shone brighter, and the night owl hooted his solo strain. The murky clouds slid away from the house, and the toads belted out to the chickens that there was something brewing in the little cottage that night.
Raina leaned over the table as though the cabinets had ears and could hear. She whispered, “Flora, darling, you’re safe to be yourself with us. You are full of the most wonderful magic. I can feel it prickling off your skin as we speak. I can tell your grandmother and mother were amazing teachers; they set you on the path for a life full of fun.”
Flora scrunched up her brows and pursed her lips, and the others could see that she was forming her rebuttal in her mind’s eye. She finally let go of the breath she was holding in with an audible puff.
“Go ahead, dear. Say what’s on your mind,” Reveena said.
“They prepared me for a life full of work,” Flora responded.
“Oh, that is true. But can’t work sometimes be fun?” Raina countered.
This made Flora stop and think. Had she lost the element of fun in her dreary day-to-day life? Had things become just too monotonous for her to notice that the mischievous glint of her grandmother had all but disappeared from her own eyes? “My fun days died with my Jonas.”
“Oh, Flora,” Cordelia sighed. “I get it. I thought I had lost everything the day I walked into my house without Jacob. But I soon realized I still had family around me to keep me laughing.”
“But you see,” Flora interrupted, “that’s where we are different. You have a family.”
“So do you, my dear. You just need to see it,” Reveena reminded her.
“Well, I appreciate that. But I have no one to pass my grandmother’s story to. You know that already.”
“Why, yes, you do,” Reveena answered.
“Who?”
“Well, a little birdie told me that someone across the way may have indeed fallen off the path of fun and is now stuck in the mire of work,” Reveena mentioned and casually pointed towards the house next door.
“Someone who has magic just jumping off her,” Cordelia added. “until it sparkles like fireworks!”
Reveena sat and shook her head. “Pity that she just can’t see it yet.”
Raina contributed her own sigh and head shake. “All the more pity that she is so close to someone who has so much to teach, ready to burst from waiting to be shared with someone.”
Cordelia heaved her own sigh and picked up her teacup to sip a woebegone slurp.
Flora sat back, Meeka still gently snoring on her lap, looking at the three gloomy faces in front of her. “Okay, I get it. I give up! I’ve never heard so many sighs and huffs in one place in all my life! If it were not summer, I’d think the windows would have steamed up from all the hot air in the room.”
“Oh, yay!” Raina smiled an accomplished grin.
“Oh, goody!” Reveena beamed and clapped her hands together.
“Darn tootin’!” Cordelia celebrated with another slurp of her tea.
Flora continued to stroke Meeka’s back, a smile returning to her face, and the familiar electrical buzz flowed through her veins again.
One hundred and twenty ribbons later, the wedding favors were on their way to getting started. The coffee pot brewed decaf, and Cecelia turned on the overhead light for added illumination.
“Just a few more to be safe,” Lilia said after re-counting the stack of carefully measured pieces.
“Expecting extra guests?” Cecelia asked.
“You never know,” Lilia mused as she pulled a container of rice from her bag.
“Hungry?” Cecelia smirked.
“Hahaha. No. It’s the next step.” Lilia pulled small empty jars from her now seemingly bottomless bag.
“Please tell me you don’t have over one hundred of those in there?” Cecelia teased, a glimmer of the old Momma shining through again.
“Hardly,” Lilia replied but quickly added with a wink, “but almost.”
She arranged a few small jars in front of her and searched her bag in search of something else.
“Aha! There they are!”
Cecelia sat back, amused, and watched her cousin lean over her tote bag until her head almost disappeared into it. Lilia soon righted herself and placed two measuring cups on the table.
Zelda bounded up the basement steps to place her empty chili bowl into the sink. Humming to herself, she seemed lost in the song but soon noticed the hustle and bustle at the kitchen table.
“Can I help?” she asked her mother and aunt.
“You don’t even know what we’re up to,” Lilia teased.
“Well, there’s a purple ribbon, so it must be wedding time.”
“Always the observant one,” Cecelia laughed and patted the empty chair beside her.
“We’re scooping out the rice and depositing it into these glass yogurt jars. Then we’ll add the essential oils, top them with the lids, and wrap bows around them. Voilà! Rice Diffusers! Just pop the lid off to use,” Lilia explained in one long breath, finishing with a flourish of jazz hands.
“Cool,” Zelda declared and plunked herself into the vacant seat. “Let’s do this.”
“Is Aunt Cordelia back yet?” Zelda asked, filling up a jar with uncooked rice.
“Not yet,” Cecelia answered, “but if she stays much longer, she should just call it a sleepover.” She looked up from her workstation to see two frowns. “I’m just kidding!” she laughed a familiar Momma chuckle.
The three ladies fell into a filling, adding, and tying rhythm. Ernie soon found his way to deposit his dinner bowl into the sink, cautiously tiptoeing into the kitchen.
“Hey, it smells good in here!” he exclaimed. “It smells like a ... umm, what’s it... you know...” he thought aloud.
“A day spa?” Lilia offered.
Ernie shook his head no, still thinking hard.
“A summer flower garden?” Cecelia suggested.
“Noooo...” Ernie drew out the word, clearly searching for the correct term.
“Reveena’s potting shed?” Zelda offered.
“No, but close,” Ernie answered. “Aha!” he exclaimed, “a menthol cough drop!” and wisely exited the room.
Before anyone could respond to the boy, the back door opened wide.
“Well, look who the cat drug in,” Lilia teased, never looking up from her jar.
“We just lost track of time. No harm, right?” Cordelia said, glancing over her shoulder to Flora, who followed closely behind her.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Flora added.
“Miss Flora, there is nothing to apologize for. Here, sit down and grab some ribbon.” Cecelia said as she got up from her chair and moved over to make room for the late-night guests.
They worked in mutual quiet for a while, finding a natural rhythm in their assembly line.
“Where is the bride this evening, anyway?” Cecelia asked Lilia.
“Oh, she and Patrick left today for a quick visit to an old friend, Kassie. She’s planning on throwing the couple a surprise engagement party while they are there.”
“Oh, how wonderful!” Flora exclaimed.
“I just have one question,” Zelda piped in, “who in the world ate one hundred and twenty jars of yogurt?”
The older ladies laughed at the thought, but Cecelia glanced over at Lilia.
“Yeah, how in the world did you get so many of these so quickly?”
“Oh, I’ve been saving these suckers in the basement for years. I hated throwing away such good jars. I knew they’d come in handy someday!” Lilia answered.
“Oh, good. I thought you had put Jack on a mandatory yogurt-only diet for the last month!” Cecelia joked.
They fell into a companionable routine and continued to chug along, creating the favors. Eventually, Cecelia straightened her back, stretched her arms above her head, and yawned.
“My, it’s late!” It surprised Flora to see how the time had flown by.
“Yes. We better get home before the car becomes a pumpkin!” Cordelia stated, entirely straight-faced.
The women chuckled loudly at the magical reference, stood up to collect their belongings, and began the ritual of goodbye hugs and kisses, only to start them again at the front door.
Cecelia’s guests walked onto the front porch. Cordelia looked back as if she had suddenly remembered something important.
“By the way, honey, I invited Reveena and her sister over for tomorrow’s picnic! Thought we could show them a true American summer cookout!” she exclaimed and shuffled down the front steps. Flora followed closely behind her.
Cecelia caught Lilia’s eye with an exasperated look. Lilia stared back with a shrug of her shoulders. In silent cousin-speak, she reassured Cecelia she had no clue what the older woman was up to now, but she would sure find out about it on the way home. Cecelia nodded in agreement and closed the door, locking it for the night.
“Now, what are they up to?” she asked Bentley, who had accompanied her to the door to ensure she was safe from the roaming raccoon rascals.
Nothing worse than those masked marauders other than those bossy squirrels, he thought, climbed onto the couch, circled twice to create his nest, and finally flumped down so that his tail rested on his nose.
Cecelia watched his technique and asked, “Not sleeping with E tonight?”
He met her with a sleepy “humph” and a grumble. “Okay, then. Nighty night,” Cecelia whispered and trudged up the steps.
Flora took her time climbing up her apartment steps. It had been decades since she was out so late, let alone so often in one week. Poor Dolce, she thought to herself, not used to being alone for so long. She walked into the darkened kitchen, lit only by the glow of the living room lamp, and heard the familiar rustle of a frustrated rabbit confined to her hutch for too long.
“I’m sorry, little Dolce. They held me up for a while longer than I expected,” she reassured the impatient bunny and crossed the room to unlock the cage’s door.
Dolce stood on her hind legs and stretched out for her evening hug. Flora opened the top door and reached in to pull poor Dolce from her domicile. The rabbit instinctively curled herself around Flora’s hand and nuzzled her arm. She couldn’t stay mad at her dear owner for long, for she had never met a kinder soul during her brief life.
“Yes, I had a fun time, thanks for asking,” Flora told the bunny, who looked up at her with big quizzical eyes. “I think I may have found my protetta, my apprentice, as Nonna would have said. Does she know it yet?” She replied to Dolce’s head tilt, “I think she might have an idea.”
Dolce nestled into the crook of Flora’s arm as they made their way to the bedroom. Flora had picked up her well-worn book along the way for some nighttime reading. Far off in the distance, they heard the familiar blasts of a passing barge.
“Two short blasts, passing on the starboard side,” Flora whispered to her roommate.