Teddy, who’d been looking over the extensive list of teas, was glad for a recommendation. She didn’t know the difference between an oolong and a pu-erh, or what on earth rooibos was. And then there were emerald greens, and leaves, and pearls… The only words that looked familiar werechaiandDarjeeling. “The zhen pearl tea sounds great—”
“As long as she don’t burn it,” Maxine interjected. “Orbry knows you don’t brew white tea or green tea higher than one-seventy, but she brought me a jasmine pearl green once and it wassinged. Nearly burned my tongue off, and there was a bitter aftertaste—”
“One seventy-five, you mean. And that was because Annie was new,” Orbra snapped. “I know better than that, and you know it, Maxine, so quit your tattling. Annie was new and she poured the wrong temperature water over the tea leaves, and now Maxine won’t ever let me forget it. That wasten yearsago, for crying out loud.”
Teddy glanced at Oscar, who seemed just as fascinated—if not taken aback—by the complications of tea brewing as she was. “I didn’t realize you had to brew tea at certain temperatures,” Teddy said, deciding she could put that in a book someday. “You really have to do that?”
“It’s like serving wine at the right temperature,” Juanita explained. “It’s not that itruinsthe taste—”
“Itscaldstheleaves,” Maxine grumbled. “Boiling water’s okay for herbals, but—”
“—but it just tastes better at the right temp.” Juanita smiled. “I owned a few restaurants before I sold them off and retired, and we were very careful to keep the wines we offered at the right temperatures. Just makes the picky people happy,” she added with a meaningful eye-roll at her friend.
“Her restaurants—they were called Nita’s—were written up inMidwest Living,” Maxine said. “So you can bet your patootie Neety did it all right. Damn it, I sure do miss that chicken mole you used to make, with the crispy fried spinach on top. And your homemade corn tortillas. It was just the right amount of spicy and peanut-y. And your rojo sauce.”
Juanita smiled. “I’ll make them again, just for you, Maxie. As soon as you beat me at Scrabble.” Her grin turned crafty.
“All right, all right,” Orbra said, slamming her hand on the table and making the Scrabble tiles jump. “Knock it off, you two. Teddy and Oscar will never come back if you don’t stop talking about jumping bones and arguing. Now, what can I get for you, there, young man?”
“Don’t order coffee,” Juanita said in a stage whisper. “There’s not one bean on the menu.”
“Um…I like Tetley tea,” Oscar replied.
“Tetley?” Orbra sounded as if he’d just ordered roadkill. “Tetley tea?”
Maxine’s eyes went wide, and she looked at Juanita, and they both looked at Iva, and all three seemed to be holding their breaths. Under her breath, Maxine was makinguh-ohsounds.
“You mean the stuff they sell in thestores…intea bags?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Oscar said. “My grandmother—she’s from England—she used to always serve me Tetley tea when I was sick. She’d put honey and very, very thin slices of lemon in it because I didn’t like milk the English way.”
Orbra seemed to deflate a little. “Well, that’s good and fine, young man, but I’m afraid I don’t have any Tetley here. We only offer the finestloosetea at Orbra’s Tea House, sourced directly from the growers. But I can make you a nice Darjeeling with honey and very thin lemon slices, and I venture to say it’ll be just as good—or better—than what your granny used to make.”
The ladies at the table released their breaths, and Teddy winked at Oscar, who was either oblivious to the undercurrents or didn’t care.
She rather suspected it was the latter. He was fun like that.
“Very well. I’ll get those pots going for you, and I’ll be bringing little sandwiches out shortly. Egg salad, cucumber, chicken salad, and pimiento cream cheese.” Orbra, who towered over the table, arched a brow as if to challenge anyone to ask a question or decline a flavor. Then she whisked off to the kitchen.
She’d hardly left when Iva closed her hand over Teddy’s arm. “So you have aghostup at Stony Cape Cottage!” Her eyes were dancing with delight.
“Yes, that’s right,” Teddy replied, a little shocked by the sudden change of topic. “How did you hear about that?”
The three ladies burst out laughing. “Honey, there’s no secrets in Wicks Hollow—especially when it comes to ghosts,” Juanita said, petting Bruce Banner’s tiny head so enthusiastically that it bounced a little. He didn’t seem to mind. “And Iva here can sniff out a supernatural event better than a bloodhound.”
“I’m very sensitive to the metaphysical,” Iva said as she patted Teddy’s hand. Her round cheeks were pink with pleasure, and her blue eyes danced. “I read a little bit of tarot, and I’m currently rearranging my condo usingfeng shuiapplications. If you ever want someone to look over your office—where you write your books—and make sure it’s got goodfeng shui, you just let me know. But that’s enough about me. Tell us about your ghost!”
“Well, it appears to like to hang around at the top of the lighthouse,” Teddy said slowly. Oscar, she noticed, wasnotparticipating in the conversation. Instead, to her surprise, he and Maxine appeared to be in an intense conversation of their own—and for once, the octogenarian’s voice was at a normal volume and didn’t dominate the table.
“Does it manifest into a specific shape?” Iva asked. “Does itdoanything?”
“It screams,” Juanita said. “I told you that.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Iva replied impatiently. “But I want to hear it from Teddy herself. Otherwise, how will we figure out what to do?”
“What to do? You mean…like how to put it to rest?” Teddy asked. Not that she hadn’t had a similar thought herself—after all, that was the reason for ghosts, wasn’t it? Something had to be fixed in order for them to rest in peace.
“Well, obviously something’s wrong, or it wouldn’t be haunting the place,” Iva said. “Now, tell me all about it.”
