Page 18 of A Spot of Tea
Joey walked in behind her. “Hey, do you have any idea where we could find a wheelchair?”
The barista looked up, thinking. “You might be able to borrow one from the senior center. Or I think Grace at Whale Gifts has one she loans out. Do you want me to call and ask her?”
Small towns. Everyone knowing everyone. Joey found it weird. Wasn’t it better to be anonymous, to take what you need and get out? Who had the energy to build these relationships?
“No, it’s okay,” Eliza said. “We’ll swing by.”
The guy leaned in. “I didn’t get to tell you. I stopped by the tea shop last weekend and I tried those new apple crumble miniature pies.” He closed his eyes. “They’reincredible. “
Eliza smiled a shy smile. “Thank you. That was one of my new creations. It’s simple, really. Just add more butter than any person should ever consume, then double it.”
He laughed. “Butter: the secret ingredient.”
“Always.”
Joey’s eyes darted between them. “Well, thanks for your help. Eliza?”
She nodded. “We’ll see you around.”
They stepped outside and Eliza pointed down the hill. “The gift shop is down there. You can’t just go around asking people about wheelchairs, you know.”
“Why not?” Joey shrugged. “I need to borrow one. For my broken-legged relative.”
She shot him a side-eye glance. “Is that the story you’re going with? I’ve never heard a bigger lie than when referring to a nondescript ‘relative.’”
“Fine. My mom? She broke her leg. How about that?”
“Fractured her femur skiing,” Eliza said. “If you make it specific and horrible, people are less likely to question it.”
The image of a broken femur popped into his mind and he winced. “Where did you learn that trick?”
“Freshman poetry class. The professor made us write two truths and a lie. She was the only one who got away with her lie because she made it so specific and bizarre. It’s stuck with me.”
“Such a good student,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a shame you’re stuck here with me when you could be off at university, learning.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on.”
The souvenir shop had a small wooden patio overlooking the harbor. An older woman was outside, squinting into the setting sun from behind dark sunglasses.
“Hello!” Eliza called out as they approached.
“Oh, hi there! I didn’t see you coming!” The woman laughed. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
Joey studied the woman, trying to memorize her outfit. White sneakers. Blue shirt. Purple pants. Her name tag said Grace.
Check.
He stared at her, trying to find at least one detail Eliza would be impressed with. Her shoelaces were striped. Was that something?
“I’m looking for new tea towels,” Eliza said.
“Oh.” She turned and pointed to the door. “Those would be inside. I have a few out here, too.”
An elbow flew into his side and he snapped out of his study. “And I’m looking to borrow a wheelchair. My mom is coming to visit, but she broke her femur skiing.”
“Oh, poor thing.”
“I’m working on the island for a bit for Russell Westwood. Do you know him? I’m flying planes out to his whale sanctuary out on Stuart Island.”
