Page 33 of Safety Net
The tabs upon tabs of set design research inundated my laptop. One tidbit about creating atmosphere led to wrapping my head around color theory. Colors opened the door to materials, leading to a whole new world, as I then started considering the influence of texture.
The rabbit hole was bottomless, and I was a dedicated diver. My focus became lasered, and time became slippery as sand. Halfway through an article on collaboration and unity with other departments, I considered how well Celeste and I communicated…which could use some work.
Thus began the great pivot. I’d started looking up ways to communicate and support someone with social anxiety disorder. Before meeting Celeste, I’d never heard of it, and a couple of hours online left me in even more admiration of her than before.
“She asked me to do a lot of the social labor, which you know I don’t mind at all,” I told Henrik as he set up the supplies. “But I was always reading this article about supporting partners with anxiety?—”
“Partner, huh?” he asked with a smile.
“It was a natural progression of my research,” I promised. “I’m not that presumptuous.”
“Sure, sure,” he teased.
I scoffed. “Moving on. One of the suggestions was that whenever possible, I helped provide tangible means of comfort.”
Tea was high on the list—especially those known for their calming benefits. And Naomi had shared Celeste preferred tea brewed at home. Making a cup seemed straightforward enough. But when I’d attempted it on my own with Henrik and Naomi’s combined collection of loose-leaf teas, I’d made something that could be found in a backed-up ditch after a thunderstorm. There would be no calming Celeste if I handed her a cup of my monstrosity.
“There’s a handful of teas to help with anxiety. Peppermint, chamomile, and lavender are the most popular,” Henrik began. He placed his hand on each tin as he explained. “I’ve personally found lavender to be most successful for me. But I do remember when Celeste was over one night, Naomi got her to try my peppermint tea, and she seemed to enjoy it.”
“Show me how to make both?” I asked.
“Of course.” Henrik nodded and picked up a metal orb that swung from a chain. “This is an infuser.”
Then he picked up something with a handle that looked like the orb cut in half. “And this is a strainer.”
“You’re starting the lesson already?” Finn came into the kitchen with his keys and a bag from a hardware supply store in hand. “I thought you were going to wait for me.”
“I was going to do part two,” Henrik promised. “I knew you were busy today and had to pick up Naomi tonight.”
“I have a small window now.” Finn set his things down and took the spot on the other side of Henrik.
“You’re learning, too?” I asked.
Finn nodded. “Naomi really loves it when Hen makes a cup. I want to figure out how to do it right.”
“Alright, so, heads up, Naomi likes her tea extremely sweet,” Henrik said. “But Celeste seemed to appreciate less sugar.”
I wrote that down in my notes app. Finn set up his camera and pressed the record button.
“Oh, shit, smart.” I pointed to the phone. “Send that to me later?”
Finn nodded, and Henrik laughed. For the first time in forever, I’m not in on the joke.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing, nothing,” Henrik said. “I just really appreciate the effort you two are putting in.”
I grunted and gestured for him to continue. “Come on, small window, remember? We need to stay on track for Finn.”
Henrik went into detail about loose leaf tea, the proper way to let it steep, and how to serve it.
“And if you want to get real fancy.” Henrik went to our cabinets and got out a glass teapot. “You can serve with this. But never put it on the stove or in the microwave.”
“Okay, so, how are we supposed to warm up the water?” I asked, poking the teapot because it seemed sturdy enough.
“You heat the water in the kettle like I showed you,” Henrik said. “And pour it in here.”
“Is this just for aesthetic purposes?” I asked.
