Page 43 of The Magical Tea Shop

They all frowned. “Which one is that, dear?” asked Hazel. “Surely not My Darling Mint To Be.”

“Or I Pine For You,” added Marjorie, with an apologetic glance at Ivy.

Ivy didn’t yet know what it would be but jumped in anyway. “I’ll have teas that were locally available here in Hazard in the 1700s. I know there’s a Martha Washington blend sold in Williamsburg. It’ll be like that.” She knew this because her mother had given it to her on her birthday. “I haven’t perfected my blend yet, but I’ll have it ready for the fundraiser, I promise.”

Lydia clapped her hands, and the others nodded. “Excellent.”

“But we won’t be using the tableware inside that I’ve acquired,” said Malory, obviously ill at the thought.

“Of course not,” said Ivy to be supportive. “What will we use for serving?”

Another lively discussion ensued. It was decided a special reception area would be set up outside. Serving platters from late in the mansion’s history would display the refreshments. Guests would have clear disposable dinnerware to sample the food items. This would be classier than paper and would not put any of the items Malory had acquired at risk.

Ivy’s hand was cramping by the time the meeting adjourned, but she had a better idea of what the society needed to accomplish to be successful. Really, their work was just beginning. It might not be so bad to be involved. She was excited about providing refreshments but knew Holly might not appreciate it. But really the division was fair, except for her having the tea blend, too. She needed to put substantial thought into that. She wanted a house blend for the shop. That could be the one.

Hazel and Malory had gone head-to-head over the script for Sundial Sands. Ivy had sought to smooth the disagreement but to no effect. They needed a peacemaker, but was she the right person? Someone needed to try, or they would lose Malory. The woman was a wonder, if Oleander House was any indication. Ivy couldn’t wait to come back and take the tour.

She was about to leave when Malory stopped her. “I can give you a tour now. I know it’s important to your aunt. I don’t mind.”

It wasn’t that late, and Ivy didn’t have anywhere to be, but surely the last thing Malory wanted to do was to give a private tour on a day she already had to work late. “You don’t need to do that. I can come back at the regular time and do the tour. I don’t expect you to go out of your way.”

Malory deflated a little. Ivy hesitated. Where had she gone wrong? “Did you want the practice?”

The haughtiness was back. Malory gave a tight-lipped smile. “I don’t need practice. I don’t have any trouble memorizing the scripts.”

“Oh, okay.” Ivy didn’t relish a private tour, and had a sudden thought. “Let’s go grab a bite. I don’t have anywhere to be, and I’d love to hear more about your work.”

“You’re humoring me. You grew up here. You must have bunches of friends to hang out with. I’ve heard all about how you and your sister are loved by the community and how successful you both are.”

“From my aunt?”

“From all of them.”

“Oh, well, Holly’s the successful one. I’m just me.”

“Not from what I hear.”

Ivy supposed it was true, if the last couple of weeks counted. And they should, right? “I don’t really have many friends here.”

Haughtiness combined with skepticism reigned in Malory’s gaze.

“Really, most of my friends moved away. They went off to college. Even I went to business school for a few years. But, unlike me, my friends never came back. They just moved on to bigger, busier places with fabulous career opportunities. Besides, I was never the popular one. That was my sister.”

Malory still looked doubtful.

“You want to go out to Kaylee’s?”

Malory arched one brow. “I thought you said you didn’t have friends.”

“Kaylee’s Refresher. It’ll be fun.”

At Malory’s bland expression, Ivy said, “You’ve never been? You’ve been missing out. Come with me. You’ll see.”

They exited together and stepped onto the front steps right into buffeting winds and drifting fog. It gave a surreal feeling to the property. Making their way down into the garden of towering oleanders, they were dwarfed by wildly waving shrubbery, wind whipping back and forth in a decidedly sinister fashion. Bits of twig caught in Ivy’s hair as they dashed for her Mazda. She had never been partial to oleanders, so pretty and deadly all at once. “Ride with me. It’ll be easier.”

Ivy started the car, the force of the wind almost rocking it.

“This weather; I don’t think I’ve ever lived anywhere this windy.”

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